Perverse

How is it that one can be ashamed of who she or he is. Wherein lies the embarrassment for fulfilling one’s destiny. Shame comes from failure. Embarrassment comes from endeavouring to do or to be something or someone one cannot be. It comes from being discovered as a deceiver, an imposter, a hypocrite.

All that I write here must read perversely and irrelevantly to those who are still beholding to societies that are in any way normal and decent – by their stifling definitions, within their uninspired constraints; those of you who look to others for approval, for direction, for reassurance; those of you whose fantasies remain fantasies, only vicariously fulfilled, thus minimally realised. You could be brilliant, but you are a coward.

It is better to be hated for what one is, than loved for what one is not.