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Drop the Script: The Raw Truth About Kujichagulia and Mental Sovereignty

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  Let’s stop lying to ourselves for a second. Most of us are walking around claiming we want freedom, power, and self-mastery, yet we spend 90% of our daily energy reacting. We react to the morning news outrage. We react to the social media algorithm. We react to systemic disrespect. We react to other people’s chaos. If your entire emotional state depends on what someone else said, did, or posted, you are not free. You are just a passive player in a game you didn't design. On this day of Kujichagulia (Self-Determination) , bathed in the resonant frequency of Indigo and Dark Blue, we have to talk about power—specifically, who holds the pen to your life’s narrative. For generations in America, society handed us a pre-written script built on limitation, survival, and endless reaction. The real tragedy isn't just that they wrote it; it’s that so many of us accepted it as truth. Real self-determination isn't about hustle culture. It isn't about stacking ten new habits on to...
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Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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