fire – Echo R.S

Land of the Thieves, Home of the Hypocrites

If we’re going to talk about immigrants, let’s start with the original ones. The ones who stole land, rewrote the Bible in the image and still want us to believe they’re chosen to lead.

Native Americans have been living throughout the Americas for thousands of years. Europeans showed up claiming the land and saying they had every right because they were backed by the Doctrine of Discovery. What that is, is a religious/ political claim that gave Christian Europeans the “right” to take ANY non-Christian land “in the name of the crown”. They planted flags, reported back to “the crown” and received more money, people, and troops who set up colonies. Indigenous people were forced to convert to Christianity or labeled as savages and treated like animals. If they resisted, they were killed, enslaved, or forcibly removed. Europeans brought disease like smallpox and the measles and wiped-out Native populations who were ill equipped and slaughtered the rest.

If that wasn’t enough, the colonizers didn’t want to tend to the land they stole themselves, so instead forced indigenous people to do so and later trafficked African slaves through the transatlantic salve trade to join in as well.

Colonizers renamed rivers, cities, people. They brought European languages, governments, borders, and values. Erasing the history, religion, and identities of indigenous persons. Much of like what they do today with black culture.

Colonizers call us “minorities” to keep us in a cage. To remind us that we’re lower than them. Lesser than. That they are more capable of leading because of their genetics.

They believe they are closer to God when a lot of them don’t even believe in one. The very countries that colonized the world in the name of Christianity, reject the very God they used to justify their conquest.

Colonizers always claim to be “building a better world”. When in reality it has always been about power, profit, and control. Many wars and racial systems in place today are direct result of colonization. Think about that the next time you want to call someone an immigrant.

Silence Isn’t Weakness — It’s Strategy

Let me talk about these two girls real quick. Yes, both of them have made appearances on my blog before, and yes — they’re back again because apparently, they don’t learn. And trust me, I’m trying to keep it respectful, but these girls be trying it. And I really mean trying it.

Girl #1.

She had the audacity to hit my phone going off about a blog post like I was supposed to be scared of her. As if I wouldn’t rock her sh—anyway. I let that situation slide. Never even got an apology, but I’m not the type to hold hate in my heart. I thought we were cool. Cordial, at least. Especially since we share someone we both care about — someone who wouldn’t want to see us fighting.

She came to my birthday. We were cool. But I realized real quick — she’s one of those people who takes more than she gives. I wish my dog could see that. He’s a good man. Solid. He does everything he can for her, and it’s never enough. She’s ungrateful. A social media groupie who thinks she’s Latto, Megan, and Nicki rolled into one, with zero talent to back it up. Just a chicken head clucking on the timeline.

She said getting my dog a pinky ring for his birthday was “too much” and got him a PS4 controller instead. But when it’s her birthday? Valentine’s Day? Christmas? She expects the world. Cluck cluck cluck, that’s all she really knows how to do.

But it gets worse. She put her hands on my dog. Yeah, you heard that right. On a man who doesn’t deserve that. A good man. And the crazy part? When she got called out on it, she laughed. Like it was a joke.

I wasn’t there, but I saw the video. And I swear, the revenge fantasies I had? Jail-worthy. But I have too much to lose. And I know God’s going to handle what I can’t. Because if the roles were reversed, and he laid a hand on her, he’d be in jail.

And all this? Over a missed text? Girl, are you okay?

She blew up because he didn’t respond fast enough while he was with his day ones. Next day, he’s scrambling to make things right with her. And I’m over here like — I can’t even defend him if this is what he keeps running back to.

She doesn’t love him. She wants to own him. She confuses control with closeness. And I hate that I’ve been dragged into it. But I’ve been forced in — intentionally and unintentionally. So now I’m watching his choices in women create problems for me. And it’s tiring.

Now on to girl #2.

I work with this one — thankfully, not for much longer. Not because I can’t handle her, but because she can’t handle me.

We got called into work early one morning. I had just finished a shift at midnight and had to be back by 8. I’m walking up, tired, annoyed, and she’s standing at the door holding it open for everyone… until she sees me. And lets it close.

Like, girl — are you blind? Or just stupid?

She’s lucky I didn’t kick that door down with her walrus-built body standing behind it. But another coworker saw and let me in. I greeted her and walked right past Miss Flipper like she didn’t exist.

Later, during the meeting, I hear her gossiping about me to the same girl who let me in. And of course, the story’s one-sided. But I’m not one to go backwards. I had moved on — or at least I tried to.

Still, I won’t lie: I wanted to stand up and snap. Slap her across the mouth on some Will Smith time and tell her to, “keep my f-ing name out of your mouth” But again — I’ve got too much to lose. I can accomplish way more using my mind than I ever could with my fists.

Here’s the thing:

I’m not mean. But people are pushing me. Testing me. And just because I care — about loyalty, about love, about doing right — doesn’t mean I won’t call it how I see it. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’ve got empathy and emotional intelligence — and that’s exactly why I choose silence over scenes, peace over pettiness, and growth over gossip.

I don’t need to get in anyone’s face. I don’t need to throw punches. Because writing is my punch. But just because I’m empathetic doesn’t mean I’m soft. Just because I think things through doesn’t mean I won’t call you out.

I’m not here to make everyone feel good.

I’m here to speak the truth.

This is 26 🎉🎂🥳

Let me start by saying: today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

And let me finish by saying: my patience is being tested at record levels.

We all know I don’t like when things don’t go my way. Now multiply that by ten—because it’s my birthday.

People love to tell me what they can and can’t do. It’s always me compromising.

I hate being there for people who don’t show me the same courtesy.

I hate when people don’t respond to my messages.

I hate when I ask a question and people act like they didn’t hear me.

I hate how inconsiderate people are.

I hate the games people play.

I hate that when someone disrespects me, I have to get out of character just to be heard—and still somehow end up the bad guy.

I hate putting others’ needs before my own.

I hate not getting everything I want.

I hate not being able to control everything.

I hate that my blog doesn’t get much traffic.

I hate how much I think about people who don’t think about me.

I hate how people always make everything about themselves.

I hate when my dog doesn’t listen.

I hate not being understood.

I hate people who play victim.

I hate compromising.

I hate failing.

I hate when God doesn’t talk to me.

I hate not feeling like myself.

I hate feeling insecure.

I hate feeling unloved.

I hate feeling ignored.

I hate feeling like I can’t be myself.

I hate feeling like I’m not important.

I hate feeling like I’m not special.

Though I’ve expressed my feelings through this post I still have so much anger. There is still so much left to say. I have a feeling at the bottom of my heart. Discouragement scapes the depths of my brain. Irritation is at the root of my emotions. On the edge of becoming numb and forgetting the world and its people. Forgetting that I care for people, forgetting they have emotions and they too need someone to lean on. But when am I going to stop letting people have full access to me when I barely have partial access to them?

I know this is kind of negative for my birthday—but honestly, what better way to start it off than with a little cathartic writing?