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According to Wikipedia, “The word negrophilia is derived from the French négrophilie that literally means love of the negro. It was a term that avant-garde artists used amongst themselves to describe their passion for black culture.”
Born out of the french’s obsession with all things African during the 1920s and 1930s or THEIR COLONIZATION OF AFRICA.
It’s crazy how this negrophilia thing is spreading like wildfire, right? Wow, it has been the perverse norm of white people worldwide. They love our culture, yet hate our black skin. Let me say it again.
They love our culture, yet hat
e our black skin. Maybe back then they loved Josephine, James, and Eartha in Paris, but was it a genuine love for their humanity, their personage, or…
a curiosity of those dark skinned people who look so weird and dance so funny and talk so incorrect. It’s so entertaining and different from our just culture. It’s a ludicrous display of base animalism. It makes me feel good about my station in life because look at how happy they are to make us happy. They don’t require much, just a couple of coins and a nice pat on the head and they’ll dance and dazzle for hours. The men are so infantile yet virile. And the women, they are so heated. Their bodies are naturally swollen for consumption. I wonder how different they feel than my own kind. Noo, I shouldn’t think that way. God would frown upon me thinking about that nigger flesh.
How do I take up space being fetishized in a world that hates me, yet wants to be me, kill me, rape me? I don’t have the answer, but I keep writing. I write out the pain, the confusion, the fear, the love, the power, the negrophilia.
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