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The New Overseer Wears an Algorithm: Reclaiming Our Ashe from the Modern Plantation

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The New Overseer Wears an Algorithm: Reclaiming Our Ashe from the Modern Plantation Let’s stop playing nice and look at the scoreboard. There is a massive, systemic difference between actually living and merely executing a survival strategy. Look around our communities. Too many of our people are walking around exhausted, drowning in unspoken anxiety, and operating under a cloud of permanent systemic fatigue. We’ve been conditioned to trade our sacred, unrecoverable time for paper returns, lying to ourselves that we are "building a life." The hard truth? You aren't building a life. You’re just financing your containment. To understand why our families and communities are fracturing, we have to look at the mechanics of energy. We have to talk about Nia (Purpose) and how our collective Ashe —our divine, creative life force—is being quieted, funneled, and harvested to build empires that don't know our names and don't care about our ancestors. Let's drop the met...
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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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