On Saturday August 12th, your black friend woke up at 8 a.m. like any normal black ass day. They contemplated rolling right back over and going to sleep again, but remembered there was A Different World marathon on Centric.

Your black friend then decided to fix some yogurt and granola and do their morning scroll through Twitter. Your black friend knows that looking at their phone this early in the morning isn't really the healthiest for their eyes, but your black friend has also watched What The Health and has realized it's already downhill from here anyway so, what the hell, right?

Halfway through scrolling their TL, your black friend sees something pretty f*ck*d up. Embedded into a tweet is a picture of a sea of angered white faces descending onto an unsuspecting campus. Your black friend scrolls a little further down and sees a video of white men shouting racial obscenities and begging for their white lives to be noticed.

The video reeks of bigotry and drips of hate in between Drake memes and spoonfuls of vanilla yogurt and granola.

For a minute, your black friend feels a mixture of emotions. Shock turns into anger. Anger turns into fear. Fear turns into sadness. But after about 10 minutes of the synthesis of feelings, your black friend all of a sudden feels nothing. A numbness if you will. That numbness creeps up from their toes and sets itself into their heart. It makes your black friend close out of the Twitter app on their phone and continue to mindlessly watch the crew at Hillman, as they interact, and hilarity ensues between chomps of oats.

It's not because your black friend doesn't care about what happened in Charlottesville. That would be a vast oversimplification.

Honestly, your black friend is just tired.

Your black friend is tired of having to fight for existence in a society they contribute to every day. He's tired of seeing acts of violence done to people of color, and not feeling surprised. She's tired of having no hope that those who rob black boys and girls of their childhood, will see judgement.

Your black friend is tired of being asked how to dismantle a system they didn't help to build. She's tired of having to fight bigotry with reason, only to be dismissed as "angry" and "lazy." She's tired of having to let the everyday casual acts of racism she experiences slide because she's the only black person in the squad and "we're all fam, right?"

Your black friend is tired of being asked if he's seen 13th.

13th wasn't made for your black friend. It was made for you.

Your black friend is tired of wondering if his body is where his politics are. He's tired of battling the anxiety of attending a protest when crowds scare him. He's tired of feeling like a failure because he can't bring himself to put his body on the line, like so many have done before him. He's tired of seeing other people answer the call to resist only to see no real change.

But most of all, your black friend is tired that their country isn't fighting for him. Your black friend is exhausted that people think extreme racism is "in the fringe." They're tired of explaining that the KKK isn't just 5 dudes in Kentucky. They're tired of seeing people be shocked when Donald Trump says something racist. They're tired of seeing people be shocked when others still support him. They're tired of being forced to love a country that doesn't love them back.

Your black friend can't take a break, because there's no time for breaks when you're black.

But know that your black friend is very, very tired.