THE BOXER AT REST (Between the 4th and 2nd century BCE)

June 27, 2019

If readers don’t understand what I’m doing, instead of your reaction I’d appreciate your ignorance. I’m a nice guy who is often misunderstood at this level. I don’t buy jewelry in the states; unless it’s being sold from a flea market at foreign prices. And it must be natural; wood, a tooth, hemp, anything looking apart from industrialized jewelry. But diamonds are forever, so maybe I’m broke.

My dad last smiled at me when I met her. Then he died in room 248A at Providence Hospital. The night before the snow and ice caused me to spin out in my car, and I totaled it. No father, no fancy car. What’s my worth to you now? That was December 2016.

There’s something about that month each year.

When I spar the fight is my eyes. An addiction to words; then I type, I’ve come to learn it’s hard. In college they only paid for my homework to give my life hype. Because when it’s done, we partied. I looked a lot like what I wanted to do. But now I can’t decide who’s who. So, I give them my ignorance too.

In my heart I have love, because I’d love to write your story too. Mine started from many places. Today, it might start with you. I write to feel the difference. And drive because that’s what humans do.

We forget to be quiet. If you do so, you can hear the body’s humming. But is it yours? Or, could that just be the excitement of petty? Your thoughts are likely too loud anyway.

I am not better than you.

I am not louder either.

If I held my breath long enough, guess what?

The stars will still shine forever, just look up.

I look different because it’s what my journey carved for me.

It was best, otherwise I’d be depressed.

If it wasn’t for white people I wouldn’t be here.

If it wasn’t for black people I’d still be in tears.

Who’s to blame for what?

Overreaction to a what the f*ck?

I am not different because I want to be.

Nor do I believe I was born to be.

But the fighter in me was reminded how black is thee…

You’re darker than the darkest under the Sun and tree.

We are a fighting race, but the black be the survival stake.

Call me weird; I too have a difference for you.

I am from Portland.

They told me we are weird.

Try that and be black.

Don’t ever give me that.

History just reminds us the differences always come back.

To no one I am saying that.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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