Pride

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.

Different from, contrary to – if so imagined – heterosexual inclination, are these other also quite normal and healthy manifestations of human sexual and gender identity – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual, transgender, trans-sensual, queer, third-gender, gender fluid, gender defiant, questioning, faggot, sissy, intersexual, omnisexual, pansexual, asexual, slut, whore.

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.

The most courageous act is to think for yourself – aloud – to disembroil yourself from the ravelled, choking maze of caution; to be as you appear, to appear as you are.

Be proud. Proclaim your destiny with dedication unflinching.

It is better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for who you are not.

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