Brother Samuel: It's Not My Time

A lot of people have accused me of being ruthless over the years. It's not my fault that I seem to attract some of the most evil people on the planet. From sociopaths ( men and women without conscience ) to racist white men and racist white women along with nutcases, man-haters, losers and stalkers. You name them, I've met them. All before I was twenty-four years old. My name is Samuel Xavier. Brother Samuel to my friends. I'm a big and tall bisexual black male writer living in the Boston area. Down in Massachusetts. This here is my story.

Am I paranoid when I assume the white man or white woman I see giving me funny looks is a closet racist who means me harm simply because I'm brown-skinned? Am I wrong to feel uncomfortable when a white male or white female in a police uniform stares at me too long? Am I evil for thinking that if there were no white people on the planet, the world would be a better place and the human species would be better off? So many questions, so little time. Is it truly wrong of me to hate those who hate me? I don't think so. In my book, all white men and white women are guilty of being racists and haters until proven otherwise. I have every right to hold these views.

Before you dismiss me as yet another black man who feels the world owes him something, walk a half mile in my shoes. A while ago, I was a crusader for justice. I considered myself a men's rights activist. In my view, all other groups in society, from women to ethnic minorities, gays and lesbians along with the disabled and the foreign-born, had their defenders. Only modern men lacked defenders. Men were dying years earlier than women. Fewer men were attending college. Men's rights were ignored in family court. Divorce laws and domestic abuse laws were biased against men. I went out to fight for my fellow men. I fought for male victims of abuse whether they were black or white, gay or straight. I had a cause. I believed. Maybe I was just an idealistic college student but I thought I was on the right path.

For years, I was the guy who handed the flyers filled with information about male victims of abuse to random men and women I encountered. I talked to men and women in class, at the library, on the subway, on the bus and at church. I was dedicated to my cause and gave one hundred percent. Until something came along to tarnish my view of my fellow man. Even though I've lost count of how many men I've helped, directly or indirectly, I found myself giving up on the cause because certain men weren't worth helping. White men. The majority of them were racist pricks. And many white women were racists as well. Why should I, a black man, fight for men's rights when the majority of those whom I helped were white men? White men harassed me for being a black man. White men treated me like a criminal while I was a hard-working, law-abiding individual. I remember helping a white male who came to me because his psychotic girlfriend falsely accused him of something. I sheltered him. I protected him. I defended him. Why? Simply because I believed in the brotherhood of men. Still, since he's genetically related to the racist pricks who harass me and all others like me, I now wish I hadn't helped him. Since white men were so determined to be racist pricks, hunting innocent black men like animals, I stopped helping them. Let the feminists and the man-haters destroy the almighty white males of the world. I don't give a damn anymore.

I've never felt more betrayed in my life. I've battled the worst evils on this planet. There are men and women out there with no conscience whatsoever. Sociopaths. I can spot them. They're invisible to everyone else because they're oh-so charming. They're so smart. So good at getting people to trust them by reading the person's needs and assessing their personality. Sociopaths are invisible to ordinary human beings. I'm not an ordinary human being. I don't know what in hell I am. Except that I'm very smart, can see right through people, and have never been sick a single day in my life. Things like AIDs, Diabetes, Cancer and even the Swine Flu Pandemic don't worry me. I recover quickly from injuries. Not freakishly quick, but definitely faster than normal. I don't know what makes me the way I am. Am I that different from other men? I don't know. I'm over six feet tall and weigh over two hundred and fifty pounds. I'm bisexual. I'm uncircumcised. I don't believe in surgeries, medicine or anything of the sort. I say no to circumcision. I say no to vasectomies. I say no to the practice of neutering animals. I believe in letting the body take care of itself, unless the life is in clear and present danger. That's my view of the body and psyche.

For as long as I can remember, I've been drawn to certain situations. I've always wanted to change things and help my fellow human beings. I've confronted bullies. I've battled sociopaths. It didn't matter if the evil person in question was male or female, black or white, straight or gay. If they're harming innocent people, I stand in their way and oppose them with everything I've got. That's simply who I am. I don't believe in standing by and letting injustice prevail. That's just not me. And it's made me a lot of enemies over the years. Seriously. I'm not the most popular guy in my city, school, household or workplace. Trust me on that one. I've put up with a hell of a lot from evil people, dumb people and monstrous people in my young life. I find life painfully long and certain people, from the rude folks, the racist folks and the sociopaths to the downright stupid people, make it longer. Let it end, I say.