All The Stars

I found out about Chadwick Boseman’s death during my third set of hamstring curls on a Friday night at 10:35 pm.

A couple of things immediately went through my mind:

1. 2020 doing real fuck ma boy!
2. Somebody go please bubble wrap James Earl Jones cuz I cannot with this year!
3. Yoooooooo! This dude just like cancelled cancer as an excuse for anything in life!

He did tho.

Like, my Teflon grandaunts have been cancelling the cancer card in favour of living their best lives until they couldn’t since I was a kid. But Boseman? You the real MVP. And now you will forever be a consistent pain in my ass.

For anyone even remotely offended by this I’mma need you to follow the one rule always enforced by one my Renegade sisters and #scrollthefrigby.

For everyone else, the rest of this came flooding in my head all at once (dammit Whitney, get outta my head).

Boseman was already a staple in the black community, and not just the African American community (but y’all get first dibs), but every person around the world failing at the brown paper bag test held him in the highest regard.

His notoriety was moving toward Bob Marley, Michael Jackson, and Sir Sidney Poitier levels when he was alive.

But then this dude had to go and DIE in excellence.

You see to me, Chadwick Boseman called everyone the fuck out dying the way he did.

Granted he was just being himself. Cool wits, kind-hearted, warm spirit, private about all things personal. I didn’t know the guy personally. That’s the way he came off in interviews.

But dammit man. You set a ridiculously high bar. That’s a lot of pressure yo.

Like, I can’t even look my workout partner in the eye no more while we getting these reps in on our Facebook video messenger calls.

I can’t complain about not wanting to do a fourth set cuz you just challenged my fat ass to be my best self.

I’m now looking at my grandaunt who has stage 4 breast cancer at age 94 who said she’s gonna ride this out without surgery or chemo cuz she too old for that shit in a whole new light. Cuz just like you, I was nurtured and raised by great women who ain never scared to tell a disease, ‘I see you bitch, come at me’.

I now have to push through the writer’s block that I’ve had for the past few weeks because fear is not of God. Fear doesn’t mean shit because it has no power and I cannot use it as an excuse anymore.

Boseman, you are a royal pain in my ass for setting an example that I can’t ignore. Smt.

We have a saying here in The Bahamas. I’m pretty sure it holds true everywhere – pressure burst pipe.

You, dear Sir, have applied some serious pressure, not only on myself but countless others I would imagine. And that pressure ain’t going nowhere. Even when I stumble sometimes, it will be there – a constant reminder to do better. Be better. Want better for me and my family. Shit.

3 weeks later…

It’s just dawning on me that now that I’ve written these words down, I have to actually mean this shit and do the work. UGH!!

I love, appreciate, and despise you all at once Mr. Boseman.

#Wakanda4evatho

—

Song: All the stars
Artist: Kendrick Lamar, SZA
Album: Black Panther
Release date: 2018