Made of black

Hey guys, here are some recent thoughts of mine.
Of recent,  there has been a campaign going on online. MADE OF BLACK.  This just stopped and made me think. What is black?  It seemed like such a little thought, but it made me realise so many things, and I thought I should share them with you.
I found myself asking myself so many questions. Am I made of black or that's just the topping? Black icing on the same cake as the one that has white icing? Is black me, my soul and all that I represent or choose to represent as a human being? does black define me ?  Then it hit me that black is more than just a colour. It is the identity we've given ourselves. It represents the burns we've gotten from our struggles throughout history, it is the forge that makes our blood boil hotter. It is the tears from the years of slavery. It is the spring in the step of the  negros.  Is black America?  Or is black Africa ?  Black has no home but it is the comforting spirit that envelopes us in one brotherhood. It is the hoarseness in the voices of those that spoke, it is the beauty of the dreams of  a future. A future and a dream. A dream that was born to be free. It is the wing of greatness, of different beautiful souls with regality.  Black is the sweat in the plantations, it is the souls lost on the sea. It is the lash from the curling whip. Black is strength and dignity. Durability even when it wasn't easy. Black is life. It just happens. Black is  the song of the lips, and the strums of the heart, it the hitch of a woman weeping and a man musing. Black isn't years of suffering, black is years of experience.  Black isn't years of constant oppression,  it is years of  resilience and determination.  Black isn't  in the bodies of those that are dead,  it is in their souls. Free alive and free in death. Black hasn't been put down, it has been pressed. Black has been pressed like fine wine to release all of the goodness inside. Black isn't segregation or discrimination,  it is being treated different because of fear, because black has substance.
     Black is the rise of the sun on an African hill, and the set of it in Alabama.  Black is in the curve of her womens' hips and the ride of their breasts. It is in her pride and royalty. It is in her duty and her mother hood to eternity.
Black lies in the ripples of her mens' muscles. It  is in their  refusal to be quiet, to sit for what is wrong. It is their willingness to be. Exist , right and free.
Black is in the compassion of children , the innocent of their souls in a dark world that doesn't want black. Black is not a Colour. It is not an identity. It is humanity.  The root of all sanity. It is  the wealth of life , of living it right. Black is the light, in a dark world full of hate. I'm me, I'm human and I'm made of black.
    Langston Hughes once wrote a poem that perfectly sums black up.
The negro mother
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face -- dark as the night -- Yet shining like the sun with love's true light. I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea Carrying in my body the seed of the free. I am the woman who worked in the field Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield. I am the one who labored as a slave, Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave -- Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too. No safety , no love, no respect was I due. Three hundred years in the deepest South: But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth . God put a dream like steel in my soul. Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal. Now, through my children, young and free, I realized the blessing deed to me. I couldn't read then. I couldn't write. I had nothing, back there in the night. Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears, But I kept trudging on through the lonely years. Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun, But I had to keep on till my work was done: I had to keep on! No stopping for me -- I was the seed of the coming Free. I nourished the dream that nothing could smother Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother. I had only hope then , but now through you, Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true: All you dark children in the world out there, Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair. Remember my years, heavy with sorrow -- And make of those years a torch for tomorrow. Make of my pass a road to the light Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night. Lift high my banner out of the dust. Stand like free men supporting my trust. Believe in the right, let none push you back. Remember the whip and the slaver's track. Remember how the strong in struggle and strife Still bar you the way, and deny you life -- But march ever forward, breaking down bars. Look ever upward at the sun and the stars. Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers Impel you forever up the great stairs -- For I will be with you till no white brother Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother.
I am MADE OF BLACK. I AM THE FUTURE. I WILL COME TRUE.
Written by; denikhe raks

I got an email from cynthia  telling me what makes her happy. Enjoy  I'm expecting yours.

Subject: What makes me happy :D

Food
Sleep
Scratching my forehead
Talking to seyi
When my cousins come back
Baths
Fast internet
When a movie that should download for 30munites downloads in 10.
Oh yeah gisting with tobi
being with the billionaire sisters
When my mum laughs really hard
Shopping
Writing
Sincere compliments
Did I mention food?
Getting good grades
Reading my twitter TL
Reasonable gifts
Movies
When Nepa brings light
Cold water after sports
Winning a race
When people say they love me first
Hot water
Lipton
MUSIC
Asa
Adele
Hot dark and tall boys
Sam smith
Singing
Dancing......................................................
Being alive :D (no cheesyness intented)