"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you." - Jean-Paul Sartre
When America said she was the baddest bitch on earth, I didn't really believe it. That didn't stop her from whispering in my ear, "You know I'm the coldest."
My people had already warned me, "She will trap your ass. Lash you. Hose you. Burn your shits to the ground. And she got them big ass German Shepherds too. Watch out for that one. She's the type to dangle diamonds on her clavicle, right above a pair of tig ol' bitties full of milk that she won't let you drink. And she knows you're thirsty. Then when you come up, she's the first one to make it clap, all up in yo' face, cheering you on like she really had something to do with your success, instead of your grandmama and them who swung from her fruit trees like forgotten harvest."
No. Despite her many proclamations and declarations, I know I can do better. And so I am. This is my referendum. The blood shed and the bullet holes have cast their votes on my behalf. Blaxit is in full effect. So, my dear country, I'm leaving your phat ass.