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Delete the 'Mad/Sad' Program: Why Your Outrage Is Keeping You Unbroken

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  Delete the 'Mad/Sad' Program: Why Your Outrage Is Keeping You Unbroken Let’s stop playing games: half of us are addicted to our own suffering. We wake up, open our phones, and actively look for something to make us furious or leave us feeling hopeless. We wear our outrage like a badge of honor and parade our grief around like proof of our commitment to the culture. That isn't commitment. It's an emotional trap, and it’s draining your *axé* until you have zero fuel left to build a damn thing. We have been conditioned to stay locked in reactive loops—perpetually **Mad** at broken systems or collapsed in **Sad** over historical heartbreaks and personal betrayals. This emotional clutter leaves you fragmented, exhausted, and easily manipulated. You become a puppet to every algorithm and street-corner disrespect that comes your way. Today, as we walk the path of Self-Mastery on this Friday, August 7th, 2026, we lock into Principle 5: **Nia** (Purpose), illuminated in the so...
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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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