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The Monday Morning Memo

Melinda was mine
‘Til the time that I found her
Holding Jim, loving him.
Then Sue came along, loved me strong,
That’s what I thought.
Me and Sue, but that died too.

Don’t know that I will
But until I can find me
The girl who’ll stay
And won’t play games behind me,
I’ll be what I am,
A solitary man, solitary man.

I’ve had it to here
Bein’ where love’s a small word.
Part-time thing, paper ring.
I know it’s been done
Havin’ one girl who’ll love me
Right or wrong, weak or strong.

Don’t know that I will
But until I can find me
The girl who’ll stay
And won’t play games behind me,
I’ll be what I am,
A solitary man, solitary man.

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Random Quote:

“I talked with white Communists about my experiences with black communists, and I could not make them understand what I was talking about. White Communists had idealized all Negroes to the extent that they did not see the same Negroes I saw. And the more I tried to explain my ideas the more they, too, began to suspect that I was somehow dreadfully wrong. Words lost their usual meanings. Simple motives took on sinister colors. Attitudes underwent quick and startling transformations. Ideas turned into their opposites while you were talking to a person you thought you knew. I began to feel an emotional isolation that I had not known in the depths of the hate-ridden South.”

- Richard Wright, 1944, Black Boy, chapter 19

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