My father took me to the creek outside our home when I was 13 and he was afraid I would flunk middle school and he told me "This river has flowed for centuries, it will remain here long after you pass away, just as it was when the white people arrived" and he talked about how I frequently lose sight of the fact that the world is still continuing on in spite of my anxieties. The next week, some black girl poked my hornhole through my pants with a pencil. I was gonna let it go, but then her freinds kept taunting me about it so I had to report her to the dean. Little did I know, the ugly beast would be the last woman to show "sexual" (a stretch since she likely was just bilwagging me) interest in me.