Sundays are…

I, well, I am glad it’s Sunday. I feel different on Sundays. I don’t know why. It’s just a thing, I guess. It’s nice and cool, only 66 degrees. The sun is out but not bearing down on us with the intensity of, say, racism.

Anyway, today will be a day of escaping, in my mind at least. A day for fantasies of what could be. A day of reading, coffee, burning sage, drifting and being the hero of my own story. Today is my mental getaway to a cabin in the (Black only) woods. A modern cabin, maybe a small container home, or prefab, just enough room to sigh deeply. Today is a day to evolve and cherish things. It is a day to remember myself, to retrace my steps, learn from my Ancestors, visit other worlds. I like my Sundays to look and feel like they do now. I like the quiet noise of Sundays. I like to hear my stepdaughter playing her drum, inviting peace to come. I like to hear the birds sing, or notify us of what is to come in the world. I’m sure their notes have a message. Today is a day to step back and handle as much, not hold on as much. Today is my day, a day to sketch out stories, practice improv (in my head), laugh out loud, or hug myself.

Today is a day to take my life back (again, damn). I love you Black People. Stay strong. Stay home.

Michael Allen

Escape Indie 2020

For the People!