I would have thought that my first blog post back from my lazy hiatus would be about an interesting storyline I was in back in February, not that Hioshi Jackson fucker. What I am going to discuss is how my opinion on something that was hotly discussed in the black cosplay community, got me called out, lost friends, and in the end, I stopped caring because it’s less toxic people in my life. Plus I want to address the situation too. Normally I’d just ignore it and move on with more important things in my life, but I just want to say a few things and move on. I’m also shutting off comments, because I feel this will be last I speak on this subject.
And now, let’s talk 28 Days of Black Cosplay, Part Deux!
BTW, the main reason as to why I’m bringing this up is because of a couple of Facebook groups I was in wanted to know why.
I originally opened up this blog as a place to post my frustrations. At the time, LiveJournal wasn’t cutting it. Some stuff I would talk about would come back and bite me in the ass because there are people on my friends list that would attack me for it, when I wasn’t asking to be attacked. After opening up this blog, I dropped so much heavy stuff, and I didn’t care. Eventually I felt that I needed to vent on what’s I thought was wrong with cosplay and how to fix it. But all that stopped when I met someone. Someone really chill.
So just about every single Sakura Matsuri, I run into my sister Crissy. She usually wears a kimono, Priestess Rei Hino, or something appropriate for the event. When I run into her, I end up taking a few pictures for her website, Sailor Moon Avatars. But this time, now that I have my new camera and she was with a few mutual friends of mine, I decided to snap photos of us for today.
So about a few weeks ago, I made this long post about my thoughts on this notion of 28 days on black cosplay. Many people asked me why I spoke about it. Simple really… Noone else would. I knew that right after I opened my mouth and kicked over that wasp nest that there would be people who would respond, not in a good way. I am thankful that people of all races and creeds agreed with what I said. I also discovered that there were other black cosplayers out there who felt the same way as I did. But that isn’t why I’m writing this. Let me tell you what happened when I met and sat down with Harry… Or as I like to call him, Black Panther.