Don’t look at my shell, look at my bullet

Social Experiment:

You are placed in a dark room with a complete stranger. You can’t see them, they can’t see you. In the darkness you begin to engage in conversation with he/she. They share the same interests, listen to the music you love, watched your favorite films, ; you absolutely love them. You are elated, entranced. Late nights staying up thinking whether you’ll find that one person on this planet who actually understands you have paid off, you have found them. They have possibly found you.

Lights go on. You see this anonymous person now. This person is Black/Asian/Latin/Brown/White it doesn’t matter, whatever they are, they aren’t “you”. You no longer believe that this person could be your friend. Your common interests mean nothing to you now.  This possible relationship is over. You leave the experiment and never seek this person again. Why? Why? Why?

The body is but a materialistic form of the human. It means nothing. What we are really made up is our soul, our entity, our being, the essence that makes us individuals. And the human race honestly forgets that.

The color of our skin means nothing; it is like the shell of the bullet. It can fall off, it’s practically harmless. The human being is the soul and the soul is the human being. Our souls are like the bullet itself. And unlike the meaningless shell, the bullet, our very souls, has the ability to penetrate the heart. Never forget that.

Don’t look at my shell, look at my bullet. Don’t look at my skin, look at my soul.

-Racism is not real.

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