I don’t know why some Rastaman ignore me.
I don’t know why some Rastaman swoon at me.
I don’t know why some Rastaman call me Empress.
The epiphany I had so long ago when I was 18 or 19 was that I lived my life according to a system. I lived my life according to an imagined perception of judgement and the need to adjust and alter my self and the appearance of myself to appease the imagined thoughts and judgementsof strangers. Strangers I was surrounded by each day walking to the store or going to class or sitting in traffic…