I’ve always had certain thoughts that manifest as forbidden plays performed privately only in a mental stage I always swore to keep unspoken, unwritten and eternally unprocessed in hopes that keeping it ineffable and far away from explanation would shield it from the soul-draining burden of legitimacy.
But the longer I keep these things an embarrassing secret, and the longer I insist that in my every thought lies shame best kept suppressed, the more I realize that maybe the reason that I, like every animate creature stumbling through their earthly existence, have come to condemn an abrasive world for never understanding me, stems from every human’s destructive habit of refusing to understand the parts of ourselves the world will never accept.
And what we never realize is that we are the world— sponsoring our own oppression and feeling as responsible as every snowflake in the avalanche.