Prologue: The Early Game Intro

It occurs to me that you’d like to read a story. My promise to you is that everything you read here is true. The names will be fake, but their actions will be all too real. Their affiliations will also be true to life. This is the story of how a black kid’s entire world was flipped upside down, one startling realization at a time, and how he found out who he was. Read closely, as I will be committing to a chapter a week. To finally get my life out of my head, and on to a page. Let’s introduce the early game characters.


The Siblings Four:

We simply cannot begin without introducing the main characters. Beginning with the eldest: Beth. Beth was a trailblazer in every sense of the word. She knew she was the eldest, and felt it was her duty to impart certain skills to her younger siblings. She had compassion for her siblings and mother, and later we’ll come to understand why that was the case.

Next, my brother Jim. A mere 10 months older than me, or so I’m told. He and I became competitive with each other early on. He had a knack for mathematics and grasping complex geometric figures and learning to quantify them.

Then there was me. Unremarkable in most respect, and in some ways notably dim. My greatest talent was my intellectual curiosity, and adapting to change.

Last, is little sister Mary. She had a talent with animals, and drawing art in mostly rudimentary semi-abstract ways.


The Matriarch:

For the first half of my life, the most intimidating person I knew. Also known as my mother. This is as much my story as it is hers. Through her harshest punishments, and mistakes, she always strove for redemption in some way. 


The Grand Matriarch:

My grandmother was a powerhouse of a human being. She had more common sense than anyone in my family, and had enough sense to know that we were destined for greater things than we had. She was the first one of my family to truly push the boundaries of being Black in the south.


The Father:

A man of talent, and of suffering. He wanted so little, and disliked change more than almost anything. He suffered humiliation at the hands of his family, and was never allowed to express himself. Even as my father, he was a damaged individual that could not reconcile his past.


There is more to each person, but it is best for them to grow into it as the story progresses. No character listed remains the same by the end of this story. This story only ends when there’s nothing else to say. We have a long way to go before we reach that peak.

A Long Time Coming

After a lot of thought, I have decided to return to the blogosphere. I can’t commit to any schedule of posting for now, but it has been on my mind to begin writing again for the contemporary public. I have lead an interesting life. I’d like to share some of that in a format that isn’t as in-your-face as a video can be.

I look forward to seeing where this goes. Thank you citizens.