"Being a Negro in America means trying to smile when you want to cry. It means trying to hold on to physical life amid psychological death. It means the pain of watching your children grow up with clouds of inferiority in their mental skies. It means having their legs off, and then being condemned for being a cripple." Where Do We Go From Here 1967.
Tuesday, was a day of rest and relaxation, watching he snow fall and being enhanced by slumber for a good majority of the day gave nothing but peace and tranquility, something that, with getting up wicked early in the morning, and getting home wicked late at night hasn't been a very serious option for me, but still I rage on. Playing cards and board games to pass the time away with my grandmother was something that was very dear to me in my heart because, it's times like these when you sit and reflect and you understand that nothing lasts forever and it's important to spend time with loved ones whenever you can because you grow up to fast and the years go by too quickly to enjoy the little things in life.