diaryofanegress

Observations of an Invisible Woman

Archive for the tag “dreadlocks”

Confessions of a White Racist: Chronicle Four

“Can I ask you something?”

I looked up into the eyes of my patient. “Yes?”

“Why do you people twist your hair into ropes?”

****rubs temples****

As I contemplated telling my rich, white patient to go fuck herself, I wondered for the umpteenth time why EVERYONE has a fascination with our hair. The question brought me back to my childhood in Ameriklan where white children would ask to touch my hair then call me a Nappy-headed nigger. The Creator gave us spiral waves, in the exact form of hue-man DNA, as a Spiritual antenna to connect with the universe in all Her glory. Our hair, in its natural state, absorbs energies from Nature, animals, the soil and each other. Unfortunately, it also absorbs Demonic forces. These energies are then transmitted to our Chakras:

African Spirit or “Ba”

Which is why you often times “pick up on someone’s vibe.” It is very real and is currently being used to oppress us. That’s why, Black Family, I seldom go out without my head scarf.

Our hair, which is the MOST diversified texture on earth, can be shaped and styled to our liking and in many cultures throughout the diaspora, can represent ceremonial traditions, marriage or even Princedom. These are traits that many emulate and try to pass off as their own invention:

Wannabe

Dreadlocks, also called Natty Dread, locks or ras, are simply left to coil and tangle on their own without the use of combing. As old as time, Moses, Samson and Jesus himself were said to have dreadlocks. The Ras Tafari movement made this style synonymous with their deep connection to God, Nature and reggae music. Today, blacks sport many styles of hair:

Natural Woman

As for my patient, I thought about my mortgage before I replied, “To be one with the Creator.”

She said nothing.

Dreadlocked Man

He beckons me with his flesh, his voice, his sensuality

He taunts me with words that burn me alive, leaving me breathless…my brain ravaged

He tortures me with his poetry, gut-wrenching and soulful, taking me to dizzying heights of sadness and deep contemplation

He pains me with his torture…making it my own

I think him, see him, feel him, taste him, touch him, smell him, breathe him

I want more…gorging myself on his essence

His manliness fulfills me

His confidence thrills me

His raw sensuality excites me like no other

His skin a smooth velvet casing born of God’s divine wish

His hair a reminder of our people…proud and fierce

He is my mysterious dreadlocked man

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