“Mr. Thompson, do you have anything you want to say,“ The judge asked.
“Yes, Your Honor,” He said, and proceeded to lay down his reasonable law. “The way I’ve been treated down here in Johnson county Indiana…well…I’ve been treated like a nigga. I don’t know how else to put it. The head of the ADR in these parts, Mr. Saturn, he told me straight up, ”Mr. Thompson, you’re not going to change the way things go on around here.” Fuck that mean? I still want to ask that motha fuckin so-called mediating attorney that. Why? Because she’s white and I’m Black? The fuck? I don’t have the right as a caring parent; albeit Father, which you courts don’t think two shits about, to have Zoe at least half of the time? Half of her life is not reasonable? Why? Cause I’m a nigga? Cause I’m a punk ass man, and if I really was a man, in the traditional court mindset, I would be out there at work, providing and slaving for my child? Not, wanting to spend time with the child, scaling down. A fuckin sperm donor? The fuck? That’s not a man’s duty to care about the rearing of his child or children. So, what am I doing as a caring male parent? Impeding upon the traditional mores and values of a race that don’t have the faintest clue anymore of how to raise a child or raise their children? Due diligence. I have witnessed firsthand of what I must do as a parent, not Mother or Father, but a motha fucka who played God and now the role of God don’t look so hot because the creator has been duped into a contract with another creator who’s creation was nothing more than the other creator being…bored. Not, realizing what that one creation will become, or what responsibilities belies when one plays God and creates. The power of Gods hand: I give you the gift of knowing creation. The greatest and most priceless gift God could ever have given US, his soul, discernment. And what do we do with it? We fight with one another about the time the creation can spend with one creator than with the other creator. We drink; work all the damn time; do drugs…cause we have found out, this creation shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Touché! Touché! God is a stupid motha fucka to keep putting in the pot on this gamble. He called. I called. And whatasurprise! Loser. Every fuckin time. But he did… and he does. I did..and I do. Because, like Our Heavenly Father, I have hope. And with that hope, Our child cannot become wayward. This society is replete with wayward children; hence, my non-traditional role of a Father; albeit, just a plain old parent. I am only guilty of that, just trying to be a plain old parent. I want this court to pity the man which stands in front of this judge. And I also want this court to pity the situation Zoe is in, in the creation process. The creation has no choice. The creators make those choices for them. I just want to be a part of my creation. I have nothing more to say Your Honor.”
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