🔵 By Daniel Broome. Photo by lauragrafie.
… He could do better – is she really wearing that? – He’s way too nice- She laughs too much – I’ve had bigger – she lost weight , probably on meth -he’s small, probably thinks he’s though – her belly’s too big – why can’t he be like the other guys…
I don’t want to do what they do, talk how they talk, age how they age; suppress my laughter, be a product of heir environment, give my soul to their afflictions, impress people I don’t even like; “agree” just so I don’t get canceled; be dishonest with who I am so I don’t get canceled, lose my identity for acceptability; merely exist… Fuck all these gatekeepers imposing what’s what, who’s who, asserting someone’s value and worth on a popularity gradient which serves a narrow ego; stifling what’s exceptional, creative, and what can be imagined; poisoning potential, leeching depth to the surface, just so sycophants of common influence can comprehend it and feel smart-dumb-superior; issuing nobility to each other, for so called “playing it safe”, too condescending, in avoidance of looking dumb, at the act of one explaining there’s a concept of intelligences, existing forward of them; telling us what category someone belongs in – Damn US for hearing it! And dictating my life, HARD COPYING my falls from grace and deciding what I’m allowed to TRANSCEND – Disconnecting me from who I am? My truth? With myself? With anyone? WHAT!
What? Do I need to change? DO I need to wear something a little less sidewalk? A little less… walked on? A little less…? What do YOU want to be when YOU throw up?