Knuckle-draggers.

I went to my favorite hatian restuarant on south beach tonight to re-affirm my faith in the hatian soul. I guess there's no secret because there is only one hatian restuarant on south beack; Tap Tap. So named because they only have two taps, guinness and bass.

I needed to re-affirm my trust because the guy who, with his friend, jumped me and threw me out by force, was hatian. Since then, I've seen black people and I've felt resentment, and I know that isn't right. So I went to Tap Tap, ordered the grilled conch, convinced a couple white guys that it is pronounced conk, not conch, and had a very nice conversation with a hatian-toronto transplant about my recent trials and tribulations.

She told me I am black on the inside... I felt honored, but wondered what the hell is that? A reverse oreo? I don't know the slang, maybe someone else does. Anyway, by speaking with her, I was able to remember my own maxim that there are cool people and assholes in every color, religion, and sexual orientation. That guy was an asshole, and I am only a slightly less asshole. But at least I don't go around trying to put choke holds on other people. And I might add that he was unsuccessful with me. It was only when the second guy was able to get my arm and twist it that they were able to shove me out. I guess I'm still a little miffed, but my conversation tonight got me back on the healing tract.

Black on the inside...

I like that. No, I'm for sure not black. I don't know what it is like to grow up as a less-than member of society. I was always equal-to, or more-than. But I do know the falseness of that way of thinking. I have been trying to pray that I could love that guy. It isn't easy.

What else is there to say? I texted my landlord, and he is cool with me living for a month on some one else's dime, as long as I really do come back and pay him for four more months with two other people... we'll see.

I know I don't play well with others, and everyone is telling me to get my own place. But there is always the issue of money. If I could find two reasonably clean and respectful persons, male or female, who were only a little stable, I could make it four months. No more knuckle-draggers though. I think I've learned my lesson; pay more, fight less... it is worth the cost in the long run.

It is past midnight, and time for me to go to bed. In a day and a half I get my own private place where I can cook again. I'm going to throw a dinner party as soon as I possibly can. I'm going to invite the coolest people I know, and just see what happens. I hope they don't think I'm a knuckle-dragger...

Love is all there is. Thank you father.