In the blood.

“Why don’t You want to do blood tests to find out what tribes you’re from in Africa?”

She rolled her eyes.”Because my grandmother was born in 1916, her husband in 1909. I already know what tribes I’m from here.”

Her sure statement of fact hung in the air awkwardly.

“But with these tests-” he started. The ache from smiling so much being around her crazy ass again was finally beginning to subside. There was no denying it. He had missed her. Especially raging.

“Their ancestors obliterated the mitochondrial evidence of the brunt of the true peoples native to this continent through slaughter, rape and pestilence. But they can’t erase the history of people old enough to actually know What they survived when it’s been spoken on. You have to gain concept of how many people they killed to “make” this country, how many kingdoms of both Black And Red peoples were already here, in civil wars that had raged 200 years before Plymoth rock. There were even tribes of Yellow people peaceably here all up and down the Americas. Their tests don’t take in account all that because that’s not the narrative they push nor does it have anything to do with the intent behind the ‘what are you?’ Tests overall.”

“The intent?” He laughed. “What conspiracy theory is this about to be?”

“Naan a one… But let’s start with commerce. Read the fine print on those DNA tests. Anything They find in Your blood They outright own. You’ve relinquished all rights to, in exchange for a brightly colored box. Without even going into the this is sci fi implications of IF they Did make a flesh puppet and imbue it with your blood, your essence, they own it thanks to your credit card slip and a fucking bedtime story, like you’re actually the offspring of Essau quibbling over bowls of rice…while you’re still walking around, even-”

“Oh, come on!-”

“More surface than that you have to understand why they chose That particular wording Of the relinquishing. Case in point: Henrietta Lacks.

HeLa is an immortal cell line used in scientific research. It is the oldest and most commonly used human cell line. The line was derived from cervical cancer cells taken on February 8, 1951 from Henrietta Lacks, a patient who died of cancer on October 4, 1951.”

They illegally took her cells, let her die then proceeded to build every damn near medical advance of the past 50 years on shit they learned studying her black blood. Without paying her family a dime until forced by the court of public opinion within the past few years to acknowledge her.”

…and y’all motherfuckers are lining up to pay them to take your blood & tell you a story. You’re Still letting them tell you your story. It’s still an enslaved mentality. But I understand the import of story, the necessity of it. So I don’t mock you. I get that my old hellion of a grandmother was a fount, a blessing. Many grandmothers of my peers coming up barely had a 36yr spread. My grandmother was damn near 40 when my mom Arrived. I know that makes a difference. I don’t mock you, but I won’t join you. It disregards the gift. And it’s one that would make little sense in Any other country.”

“Hela cells-wait- that Oprah movie?!” He yelled, surprised.

“Yes.” She paused. “…you really think…they’d be moved to creating an entire blood collecting industry…simply to bring peace of mind to people many of them are angry they can no longer own? They don’t give a Fuck about your heritage. They want the technology more likely to be coming out of dormancy in your blood. And they’re selling that information to the highest bidder. All over again. They’re looking for something they realize they can’t Do without the essence of you.”

He fell silent. “You just have issues with being African-”

“This is of no disrespect to Africa. I’m just schooled in a deeper timeline than you. There are kingdoms all over Africa with histories of using the currents the slavetraders Were told OF BY PEOPLE already using them for ages…to come Here.

There is NO Egyptian boat, ancient or otherwise, that took Three years to get to fucking East Africa.

In the 4th or 5th century, an entire East African kingdom got so fed up fighting with their cousins that they disappeared. Not decline. Their enemies invaded as per ritual and the entire kingdom had emigrated “elsewhere,” leaving no trace.

While Mansa Musa was pilgrimaging to Mecca from West Africa, his priest-brother was doing the same thing heading across the Atlantic on currents used by their ancestors 1000 years prior with as large a retinue of attendants and as much gold.

The cosmology of the Dogon lines up with that of the Hopi here-

We’ve exiled ourselves in Spain 700+ years-

We were welcomed with fucking giraffes in China- as dignitaries- and as itinerant priests with attendants all over southern Asia-

They’ll never break the Harrapan code until an AI without their prejudices programmed in explores African scripts instead of unceasingly spooling through indo European ones-

Half the Gods on Tibetan scrolls are painted pitch black, 75% of the major Indian Gods run from terra-cotta, to black to so black they’re blue and dreadlocked-

And the Olmec calendar start date in the gulf is keyed to Thoth’s expulsion from Africa. On fucking boats.

I’m old enough to have hung out in dusty library stacks with history books they never expected us to bother with due to the programming Against reading in our communities.

…What I’m trying to get across to you is that some streams of “Our Blood” have been gypsying around this planet forever. By choice. Due to curiosity. They aren’t going to give me a pin that makes any sense of what I already know because I know what has been most recently washed away.”

She paused. Looked at him. “But if what they told you for your plastic…gives you peace of mind you didn’t have, so be it for you and your blood. That’s Okay. For you. And it IS true for the people they DID bring from places like Ghana. Places with kingdoms that were and are once again flourishing. Proudly.

But We’re Not all the same. There’s a reason they revoked the 40 acres and a mule rule then revised that shit. We owned most of the land when they weren’t even a quarter of the way through. There’s a reason that early US/Moroccan treaty is buried. That’s another point the tests are trying to unofficially uncover lol, but…embracing that is kind of the point of life too, so~”

“So you’re asking me to believe what you believe?” He said defensively, painfully aware getting her to believe what he does is what made him start the conversation, really what made him track her down. Again.

“Nope.”

“Are you asking me to go study, see for myself?” He snapped hotly, unable to face why he was so mad.

“No. Anyone who is meant TO know will be pulled To delve deep for themselves. This isn’t a communal tug, it’s a soul one.”

“You Never had a problem with them ostracizing you, did you?! I’m sitting here, feeling sorry for you, giving you opportunities to be With-” he yelled.

“As long as I towed a line I can’t touch.. You felt sorry for me. And now you’re mad at me revealing THAT has nothing to do with me. I know I’m Different. Always have. You felt sorry for me really only because you felt sorry for you.” She said softly.

“What?! Why should I feel sorry for me?! I had loads of friends ! Family!-” he yelled.

“Yeah…but outside of arguing with me…you’ve never felt like you had any…company.” She said it with such finality that the vitriol on his tongue dried up in his mouth.

“I’m not asking you to go research anything. You’re asking me why you won’t. It’s because you’re a Latent. And you know it. All Latents do. It’s why you’re so fucking charismatic, and why you need to be so fucked most of the time to breathe here.” She said evenly.

“And no, I don’t care if you rise or Fall because until you choose you’re a danger to every Aware you meet. I’ve seen your kind turncoat too many times. I won’t care…until you rise the fuck up.”

She got up to leave. He opened his mouth to call after her but she stopped him.

“If you come after me undecided one more time I’ll fucking kill you where you stand. Good luck.” She said plainly.

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