Too late now to talk about racism

I actually feel really sick at my stomach today, and I don’t know what caused it. I will try to write something brief. I’m being ‘urged’ to talk about my racism. I don’t have a lot of time because I have to return the truck I rented yesterday. I have only one particular race that I really don’t like – Africans. I have disliked Africans my entire life, since childhood, just by experience with them. But I was a ‘quiet racist’ until only the past year or two, and I only started to talk about it because, like other things I’ve talked about, I had urges from voices in my head, and it probably correlated with Trump becoming president.

So this morning, I’m hearing that I also chased away Asians by saying I was racist, but I’m not racist against Asians, it’s just that I feel like I’m stupider and slower than they are. I like Asians. But I can tell that their brains work faster than mine, and became convinced of this after reading Dario Nardi’s book (the one I just got out again recently) where he said he, too, noticed differences in Asian brains.

I also became convinced of it after working at Maki Yaki with a bunch of Koreans. They start responding to what I’m saying before I’ve even finished my sentence, and sometimes, they anticipate incorrectly what I’m going to say, but because they are much faster, it makes them very impatient to sit there waiting for me to say the entire sentence. It’s like watching the sloths on that cartoon, what was it called, ‘Animatopia’ or something like that. Utopia for animals. Why can’t I remember that name? Zootopia. That was it.

Not only that, but no matter what race someone is, even if they’re African, there are some individuals that I like more than others, and I’m pretty sure that socionics has something to do with it. My best friend in college, Valencia, was black, and I think she was an INFJ. We spent huge amounts of time together. I also have a former coworker who I suspect is probably in the Delta quadra and might be an ESTJ, but I’m not sure, and I do okay talking to him although his messiness in the workplace annoyed me greatly – and there were white ESTJs who were also extremely sloppy, like disgustingly sloppy, at McDonald’s. You know, things like, putting down the spatula into a big slimy pile of grease, that kind of thing. Putting tools in random places so I can’t find them when I need them. Alrick, the suspected black ESTJ, did all that stuff, but even worse than the white female ESTJs did – he left a trail of chaos behind him like the Tasmanian devil. But I can have a conversation with him and feel comfortable, and he shows no signs of invading my physical space.

Charles, on the other hand, physically touches me, and cannot stop talking for hours. This has happened on the couple of occasions when I allowed him to give me a ride in his car. I sat in the passenger seat, and during the conversation he kept tapping my leg with his hand. Not even the upper body, not even just the arm or shoulder, but my thigh and knee. During a conversation at my current job, when he came in briefly while he was getting gas for the car, he stopped to talk to me, but couldn’t stop talking even though I had to work, and he was waving his hands closer and closer to my breasts, which is what I complained about the other day. I was literally backing away from him, taking steps back, and he would move towards me after I took a step back so he could wave his hands around the area of my breasts again. This was like gesturing animatedly while talking, except doing so in such a way that it was constantly going towards my breasts. So the last time I talked to him, I stood behind his back while he was sitting down at a chair at a table, and forced him to have to turn his head sideways to talk to me, just so that he could not reach forwards towards me, or look at me with his eyes.

So I don’t hate Asians, but it’s probably too late for that now. I just dislike music written by black people, with a small number of exceptions, and I very strongly dislike black men if they show even the slightest desire to have sex with me – that cranks up the dislike into outright hatred and loathing and revulsion. I tolerate black men as long as they don’t express the slightest sexual desire.