Hear the rattle(of the snake)

When I go out into the world, I wear a specific style of dress. I wear black. Black pants, black shoes, black socks and a black button down dress shirt(short sleeve). And in some ways it’s to express my dark side of life nature and my gothness in a corporate world. That’s what I’ll tell you if you ask.

But, it serves other purposes as well. It marks me as other. Which, is a reflection of how I feel about myself. Other. I don’t belong to the crowd.

It’s not about alienation so much as an acknowledgement of fact. The way I think and hold myself forth is different. Which isn’t even my thought, it’s a comment that friends of mine make.

And there’s a third reason…I’m brown. Long hair and brown. Light skinned but brown. And I have a distinct aversion to being mistaken for else.

Through my dress and demeanor I reject any external notion that I might be a grocery store employee. I don’t know where the apples are and if you expect me to and voice it to me as if my place is one of subservience… Well, expect to hear an earful.
I’ve already done my best to flash danger and other with my dress. You’re failure to see reality is not my problem and if you make it my problem, it will swiftly become your problem.

People are afraid. To be confrontational. To be seen as the ‘minority’ with the chip on their shoulder. But what they see, when what I am is contraindicated, is not my emotional responsibility. I refuse to take up their burden.

Starving in the land of plenty

We act like our world is all one way
Blissful or burned by parallel reality
Same universe, same world

But really, how many lives can you see?
Which journeys will take you down roads that branch and branch until you see no way out?
Or end all too abruptly in a grave?
We want what we want and we want it now.
Blinded by our choice to only see those opinions that echo our own.
Unable to change minds because our own are so mired in our mirrors
Reflecting opinions back until anything outside is a foreign body to be attacked

Our opinions are so often lies of those tied to a news cycle
read an opinion and assimilate it rather than form your own
Learn someone else’s philosophy and wisdom, regurgitate
Look am I not wise
I said the same thing the parrots of my political flavor say

Things change but in cultural drifts
In ebbs and flows
Stutters and starts
In conflict
In choices each time we open our mouths
Open our doors

It’s in the quiet words we tell ourselves and in the reason why we shout
I’m here
I’m alive
I matter
Listen to me
Words fade in the cacophony

But be the rock unwavering
and be beaten to sand
A sacrifice
A choice
A stand

Life ends
In our silence
In our fear

Hope dies
Undiscovered in the discarded dross
Of our willful blindness

Take my eyes
I wish to see