Guess who would be the first one in line for the HIV cure if it came out tomorrow.
Fa sho.
I think it’s cute when people are like,
I wouldn’t change a thing! Or, everything in life happens for a reason.
Yea. That’s nice and all.
But fuuuuuuuuucccckkkk that!
Y’all can have this dumb shit.
You can have the visits to the specialist doctors.
You can have the uncertainty and the regret.
If you want the meds, you can have them too.
Cus I am not about this life and HIV is all the way in the way.
I mean, I’ve met a lot of really amazing people because of the work I do in HIV.
But if I had to sacrifice them for a cure …
Liiii-sten.
Catch y’all on the flip side, home skillet.
And by cure, I don’t mean no long-lasting shot of some shit I can’t pronounce.
I mean, a cure, cure.
One that my broke Black ass probably couldn’t afford anyways.
One that I would have to try and finance like I done did everything else I’ve ever owned.
My credit report would probably read:
Student loans: $150,000
Car loans: $20,000
HIV/AIDS Cure: $799,000
And I would be ok with that.
Fuck owning a house.
Fuck vacations abroad.
Fuck financing my child’s collegiate career.
I’ll just teach him what I know from home.
Call it homeschool if you wish.
He’ll be aiiight.
If they told me a cure was here, I would hop my happy ass down to wherever that cure would be at.
And sign-in with arrogance.
My C’s would probably be all big and boisterous.
I’s dotted with ribbons or some shit.
I wouldn’t even care if I didn’t have a car to come back out to, cus I had to sell that jawn for an immune system not dependent upon some band-aid of a medicine.
I would walk my happy, HIV-negative ass all the way home.
Skipping the whole way.
What a wonderful kind of day, type shit.
I might even give somebody some on the way home.
Some good, HIV-negative WAP.
Sike nah.
Tip: If you don’t get the lesson you gone keep failing till you do.
I would chill.
Cus I wouldn’t have another car to sell.
And I would still be in debt from the last strain I had to get rid of.
Cus you know them. They gone get they money.
If I was cured, I would protect this yoni with my entire being.
I would probably think long and hard (pun intended) about the things (a ‘nother one) that I let inside.
I would stand firm on my body belonging to me.
Might even give that celibacy thing a chance.
What not to do: Don’t stop dreaming. Shit could really happen.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so cocky, cus I’ve learned some humility over the years.
There would just be a little more pep in my step.
Cus HIV wouldn’t be weighing me down.
+ Ci Ci +
I will go first. 