Dear Diary Essay

Ive lived on this here ranch for many years now, and as a coloured man, I feel my vitality is no social occasion plainly the lowest of completely. A white mans l aceliness and hardship is nothing compared to a sear mans isolation. I live here, every last(predicate) alone in my own room. The other custody express that its good to have your own room, where there aint no luggage compartment else to disturb your own privacy. just now, its not the like that. There aint nothing good close to it at all. A lone(a) life is what I live. By my own self, in my own bunk, with no one. Im kept away from all the other men on this ranch, be driveway of the prejudice against my coloured people. I have complained too many times close to this in unspoiledice, tho nobody would listen to the nigger speak.But, something funny happened today. Everything was the same as it always is on a Saturday eveing. The white fellas out to town, leaving everything else silent, except the quiet echo of th e horses, moving about restlessly. As usual, my crippled back, injured from that patch horse, began to throb with pain once again, so I took out my liniment and slowly began to massage the ache with my hands. My mind wandered, and wondered about the reasons I have for staying here. I have many. I cant leave this place, even though it is the one place where I am always unhappy. Its just the detail that Im a black man, I suppose. I havent got any choices. Its either here or nowhere.It was silent as hell. I gazed up from my thoughts and gain Lennie, the new roast was standing in my doorway. I heard things like he was a big fella and everything tho by god That guy is huge. I just thought that there must have been something wrong with his head. How dare he, a white man, who should screw about a black mans privacy, should have it off and invade my territory? Im not like them other white men. Seeing as I aint allowed in their bunk house, well, why should they be allowed in mine?He s tood there, smiling with his great mouth. I told him that he shouldnt be in here, still stunned at his daring. He smiled even more at that. Then he replied, only talking about his shucks pups. But I realised, as the conversation grew on, that the man didnt understand about prejudice and all those things. I began to feel at ease and even liked his company. Of course I did, anyways. There cant be any man on earth who likes being on his own all the time.We talked and we talked. And I surprised even myself when I told him about my past, when I was a boy. When my old man had his own chicken ranch and the white kids would come and play. I used to play with them sometimes too, my old man didnt like that barely I didnt find out why til I was older. indirect request I could go back to them days. It was nice talkin to the big fella though. Normally, If I say something, why its just a nigger construction it. When he next spoke, I realised the boy werent taking in anything I say. All he was concerned about was the damn pups. God, a guy could talk to him and be sure he wont be going off telling everyone else. He was mistaken as hell.And I took benefit of him. Advantage of all the dumb things I thought about him. Id been put down one too many times, and this time, this time, I was the one in power. I suppose I just wanted to scare him, thats all. Didnt mean no harm. I threatened him with the thought of his pal, George Milton, who Lennie seemed to be fond of, leaving him butt. Of course, all thats unlikely to ever happen, but I dunno It got his attention though. He was scared. God, I was enjoying it, but now, I realise how stupid I was. I enjoyed every moment of this torture, but it was okay. It wasnt me, or so I thought. I carried on, saying stuff like, supposing George cant come back, say if he died or something. What would Lennie do then? I was full of glee with the thought of the hurt I was inflicting on Lennie.But I just suppose I was jealous. Too jealous. How com e this dumb guy, Lennie, could give a friend, a companion, when I couldnt? Im smarter than him. I couldve been more of a bettor person to talk to. But I know why. Its always the same reason. The prejudice white folks have for us black folks.So I kept tormenting him, with all the rage and anger I had kept within myself for a lifetime. Suddenly, Lennie stood up and I realised how big he was. It scared me. This towering ogre, shadowing me with his great body. I stopped teasing him, and tried to be more gentle and reassuring. I know Im never gonna mess around with that big boy any more. We settled down once again, with comfort and ease among us. It was a nice feeling. Probably better than the feeling of being in power. I suppose power isnt always everything.Lennie was now talking a lot more than before. About their inspiration of owning their own land the same dream every man has before they lose their entire stake to the cat houses in town and finally go across up. Too many men Iv e seen have given up. Theres no reason why this dream wont be the same. But for some reason, I believe it could come true. Its just the enthusiasm I saw in Lennie when he was talking about it. Of course, I didnt hear often about the dream from Lennie. All he was on about was the animals and how hed be taking care of them. Then, from outside, the efficacious of a horse whined, and halter chains clinked. I moved to the door painfully. I didnt realise my back hurt so much. I forecast it could have been Slim. He sometimes comes into my room.It turned out to be Candy, the swamper. He old man is older than me, but in less pain. Lucky him. I invited him in though. Might as well anyways. Since everyone else was coming in. And also because I enjoyed the company He came in and suddenly, it seemed as though all we were talking about was their dream. I was amazed at how real all of their hopes were. I masked my thoughts and pretended to be not interested. I questioned them about the dream, a bout the land and where would they get it. But they answered with flawless answers. I even tried to put them off the dream, telling Candy how hes just a swamper, and thats all hed ever be. Another act of jealousy. But the two men, with feelings so strong for what they believed in, did not fall for any of my traps. Could it be true? Could they really be doing the impossible?I admit, I aint ever seen a guy really do it. Achieve their dreams and own their own land. Nope. not one person. I suppose thats why I let my defences down. All my pride collapsed with the entrancing dream It took a lot of guts to say this, but I offered to work for them for nothing. Just so I could be with them, and perhaps be even happy I dunno It felt like it was worth it at the time. Giving up all this loneliness for a bit of happiness. Who would refuse? Who could refuse? Being part of a dream such as theirs. With their own land, own house, own animals, own everything. It was only a dream til they came along and made it come to life.The moment was spoiled when Curleys wife entered without my saying so. I couldnt tell her to leave though. Even as a woman, she still has more power than a nigger. She came looking for Curley. As if she didnt know already. I asked her politely to leave, but she responded with her loneliness. I suppose I havent really paid enough attention to her, to wonder about her feelings, but why should I? If the way she treated me today was just a smack of reality, then I shouldnt care for anyone but myself.My anger build up and was eventually released. The anger I built whilst listening to her threats, freed themselves in the form of words. I shouldve kept to myself though. I know I didnt do anything except make things even worse.She didnt have any rights to be in my room. A coloured mans room. No rights to be messing around in here at all. And thats what I told her. Told her to get out. She then turned against me, and threatened me, like I have been for everyday of my life. But this time, it was worse, much worse. She threatened me, telling me that if I told anyone shed been here, she could get me hung. She knew she could get me killed. A black man aint got any power over a white woman even. She threatened to kill me and the painful part was that I knew she could. And I accepted it. Because I have accepted the prejudice all my life.My body froze and I sat there perfectly still, my eyes in one place, turned away. Its the position I use to create the wall defend me from the cruel, white world. Where I can imprison the pain and the hurt from a lifetime of hatred and prejudice. These feelings who crave to scream and shout. Yet, they have no say in this world. Like I dont have any say.I was grateful towards Candy at that moment. He stood up for me, going up against the bully. But she did the same to him as she did with me. But I appreciated it, I did. It was only when Candy said that he thought he had heard the other men coming back, when she left . Im not very sure if he was telling the truth, but it did its job. She was gone in a flash, leaving her emotional footsteps behind imprinted upon us. It was time for Candy and Lennie to leave. I would have loved for them to stay for just a little bit longer but I knew they couldnt. In the background, George shout out for his friend, Lennie. A friend I envy.As they left and turned their backs on me and my sanctuary, I shouted back for Candy. I told him to forget everything I said about hoeing and doing odd jobs. I didnt mean it. To him I didnt. But I really did. Its just a secret I have to nourishment to myself now. I felt unwanted, my pride gone, all lost to the hands of that woman. I wish I could go back and ask Candy for another chance, but I know I cant. Ive already rejected the offer, and even told him I would have never liked a place like that anyway I wonder why I said it now. I suppose I didnt want to seem desperate, even though I really was. I had to rebuild another barri er, and in doing so, I abandoned my only escape out of here.I didnt think before I acted. But those words were the only thing on my mind at the time. And still I wonder why. I should probably forget about it though. I wont have another chance. Unless they asked me to but that isnt really likely. White men asking a black man to work with them? peradventure but just not these men.Now, Im rubbing my back once again, with the pink palm of my left hand, covered in liniment. With the desire to solace the pain on the outside, as well as the pain inflicted inside. Im thinking about this past night, this past year, my past life. I realised I aint never been truly happy, have I? Never on this ranch, where Im always singled out from everybody else, only cause Im the only black man. I dont like anything on this ranch. Only til tonight I found one thing I liked. Friendship. But I dont have it. Not now, anyways, and probably not ever. I do like it though. I know I do. But all I can do is just s it here night after night, wondering about it. How its like, how itd be, but never experiencing the joy. Just wondering.