clipped from: www.miamiherald.com   
I'm your scapegoat, your boogeyman. Cadillac drivin', pimp-walkin', white woman-lustin', me.

I am the shape and size and sound of your fears. You know me on sight, know me before you know my name, know me before I even stick out my hand and say Hi. You know I have no feelings beyond your perception of me, no thought beyond what you impute to me, no purpose beyond your fear of me. I live in the shadow of your consciousness, do not exist outside of you.

But can you imagine if I did? Boy, can you imagine the ache and anger if I did?

Remember when you denied me a job, then called me a thief? Remember when you blew up my school then called me ignorant? Remember when you killed my father, then complained I was filled with rage?
No, you're right. There's no point in remembering that. Why should you remember a past that makes you uncomfortable? Why do I even need a past
I'm your scapegoat, I'm your boogeyman. And I have no feelings beyond those you give me.

But can you imagine if I did?