There is no shame without disgrace, without humiliation. Appearing as I am, being as I appear, I care not how I seem to others, nor might their opinions of me alter in any way my knowledge and perception of myself. I never avert my eyes. I stand alone. My risks are my own; my responsibilities, my own; my failures, my own; my triumphs, my own; all that I say and write, my own. If I offend, it means neither that I am wrong, nor the those offended are right. That which offends is but temptation denied. That which angers, fears revelation.
I will not be held to blame, censured, shamed, for the lies others live. Between hypocrisy and truth, there is a scapegoat, a victim, a whipping boy. The hypocrisy is that of those who would suggest and proclaim the lie intended to induce one to shame. My truth is my own. Fearless, of course, I have no shame; I cannot fall from a favour, a grace, I never sought nor claimed; my self-determination, thus my self-respect, is incapable of humiliation. Shame in nothing; humiliation, mere gratification; assurance that I have stood alone, stood last, against intolerance, parochialism, persecution. Though not a seeker of repute – Fame the freak; don’t shame him.