Battle Ground

I sometimes wonder about things.

I wonder what other people wonder.

Do they see me, like I see me, in reflections?

I notice that when we all see something amazing, most of us say “ooo” or “awww” and usually a shriek or two in upper and lower differing octaves, but there’s always a few that sound…disappointed.

I hate tomatoes but, I love to grow’em.


I don’t know why I do, I just… Do.

Hate them, that is.

You love tomatoes but, I don’t hate you for that; our tastes are just different.

You see African Americans, I see niggers, pimps and hoes..

You see Mexican Americans, I see greasers, spic’s and beaners.

You see immigrants, I see welfare cases and terrorists.

You see America for what it stood for,in theory, at the beginning.

I don’t see America, anymore.

I see niggers, pimps, hoes, beaners, wetbacks, wops, dagos, queers, fags, homos, nazis, commies, rag heads, liberals and government conspiracy.

You see 2015, you see a future.

I see, 1984….

I wonder what you see when you look at me in passing.

Do you like my kind eyes or my sardonic smile?

Do you see my blue eyes and blonde hair and wonder if I have a Viking or Saxon ancestor?

When you hear my Southern accent do I seem stupider all of a sudden?


Well, I can tell you’re a Yankee, so I hate your guts and hope you die.

You probably grew up rich too, didn’t you?

You probably went to good schools and had sex with guys and girls, didn’t you?

I bet you ain’t worked a day in your life, have you, mama’s boy?

I bet you burned the flag at your commie college, didn’t you?!

I can look at you and tell….

I can look at you and know I don’t like you.

I know I don’t know anything about you but, I can tell.


Look at those brown eyes… Probably got some nigger blood in you, don’t you?

You talk funny too; probably a gay bastard, ain’t you?

I know I don’t know anything about where you came from or where you grew up but, I can tell you’re… different from me.

Yes, I like ice cream.

You do to, so what? Lots of people like ice cream.

You hate to eat tomatoes but like to grow them, also?

That’s weird, I didn’t know there was anyone else like me in this world….

I wonder what people see when they see me.

I wonder why I see things the way I do.

It’s dumb to act like I do?

You think I’m wrong?

Why should I be different than anybody else, what makes you think I ain’t happy like I am?


Things are just the way they are…

Ain’t nobody gonna change the world.

There’s always gonna be niggers, spic’s, commies and fags; rolling out our asses, begging for welfare and stealing kids from their yards.

You say I sound, stupid?

You say I’m acting like an asshole!?

I’m a prick!?

What did you say?

Before I speak, pretend I’m at church, that way I’ll watch my mouth?

I’m fine, just the way I am, thank you very much.

I wonder if they can see what I see, when I look at me?

Am I proud of what I see?


Am I proud of what they see?


And therein lives the paradox….

I don’t like the good they see in me.

I resent being judged by others.

I am a hypocrite of staggering proportions yet, I hate them with a vehemence I usually reserve for baby killers.

I am a racist and I don’t know why.

I don’t want to be.

I try NOT to be…

But, the hate and suspicion was there,long before I knew it was wrong.

Now, I know… And it pisses me off!

Prayer doesn’t work.

The Bible isn’t a good resource for such things.

God doesn’t strike me down for hating niggers, spic’s and hoes….

So, what’s the problem?

It’s wrong? Hell, I told you I know it’s wrong!

What do you mean you know what I mean?

I’m not the only one?


You, yourself, have things you don’t want the world to know or see?

I don’t like me the majority of the time.

But, I like me enough to keep trying to work thru my….imperfections.

I know I can get better

I know I can get more out of this life.

What’s left of it, I mean….

You get angry sometimes, and don’t know why?

You’re not perfect, either?

That’s weird, I didn’t know there was anyone else like me in this world….

Millions, you say?


What do you mean, The Shadow knows?

I’m not making any sense?!

Of course I’m not, that’s why I write it down.

[Authors Note] This is how I beat stupidity. I write, I read, I see…
I see what I can’t see.
I see what you see.
I am not…….. What you see.
I’m working on that.

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