Flesh & bones

Too many times we just spend our life trying to show off, to sell people an image which just doesn't correspond to what we really are inside. Which corresponds to what we think is the best we can show to be accepted/loved/envied/you name it. Why? Why do I have to be another person to be accepted? Why? I don't see any reason to do that and I wonder if you do, what that reason can possibly be. The funny thing is that after years spent playing a role, we actually become that role. We think we ARE that role we are just impersonating, like an actor. And we lose contact with what we really want and really are. We become puppets. And this is not a cliché. This is f*****g true. It happens every day. We do it every day. We just wanna be in line with the image we want other people to buy. Nobody wants to be uncool. Nobody wants to be stupid. We just HAVE to have fun all the time, no matter what. Because that's how society wants us to be. But that's so unreal, so far from reality. Where people don't have fun all the time. Where we see our dreams getting crushed every day. Where life simply isn't like a commercial on TV. Where people are always gorgeous. They smoke but never get cancer. They drink but they never get addicted. They have sex and never catch AIDS or get pregnant and have to abort. Have you ever seen on TV or in a movie a 'real' story of abortion? In which a woman is just too young or too inexperienced or doesn't want to pay all her life for the mistake of one night or 10 seconds of it and so decides to abort? Have you ever seen it? I haven't. On TV you never see an abortion portrayed like this. The solution to an unwanted pregnancy can be only a miscarriage or an adoption. But real abortions happen every day, in every city, all over the world. And the world doesn't like it. So it just gets away with it, not showing it, not even talking or whispering about it, just blaming us women, THE B*****S, THE S***S, THE MURDERERS. The oh-so-perfect-and-righteous people of the world talk about it all the time, trying to impose their saint view on us women. Is this fair? When millions of women, not s***s nor killers, women, like your sister or your mother, live such an experience every single day. Is it fair to ignore them and leave them in their pain, with a wound which will never close and in which salt will be poured by all of you, just able to point your finger and cast the stone. Is it fair to make us all feel like the world's worst creatures just because we don't bow our head to your partial vision of the matter?
Who the f**k do you think you are to do that? We are all the same, rich, poor, smart, dumb, emperors and garbage men. Who the f**k do you think you are?
Let people live their lives like they think it's best for them. Let them be sad, dress like they want, have the body nature has given them, speak their mind and express themselves as it suits them best.
I'm so tired of all this hypocrisy. I'm so tired of all this righteousness, all this politically correct s**t. And I'm surrounded by it every day, like you.
I'm real. I'm flesh and bones. I'm good and evil. I'm nice and nasty. I can be your best friend and a true b***h. I can hold you warmly and look at you as cold as ice. Shy as hell and extroverted and funny as a clown. Do you really think you know me? I'm just real. And I want to spend my life with other real people. Not puppets of which is easy to predict every move. Like in a movie with a bad and boring screenplay. I want to live and love and have fun for real. Not according to somebody’s else idea of life, love and fun.
Are you ready to be real? Ready to fight every day? To find yourself alone, in one corner, crying, with nobody around that cares for you? To face as much s**t as you can take? Don't you realize that you'll go through all this even if you adopt the 'puppet attitude'? Be real for once. Be whole. Just try. And you'll love it so much you'll never wanna stop. You'll be up there being exactly the person you've always wanted to be. You'll see how miserable and false their life is. No real happiness or satisfaction can ever be possible if you're not yourself in the first place.
The first time I tried to fight for my rights I felt so sad, hopeless and alone I started to cry when nobody was looking. I'll never forget that, and it was years ago. I still remember every single sensation and feeling. And that's not a pleasant memory, I promise you. As usual, I put everything in question. I felt I did a mistake. And I just kept revising and revising and revising what I did. But the day after I saw things differently. I knew something was starting to change in the right direction.
Crying in a corner. Alone. That's how I began my slow but steady metamorphosis.
A metamorphosis that will never end. The butterfly will never be perfect. It’ll always be on her way to a perfection she’ll never want to reach. Because the metamorphosis cannot end. There's no limit to perfection, but perfection, the desire of perfection, can well be a limit. There’s no limit to personal evolution. There’s no limit to the metamorphosis of the self.
“Rape my mind and destroy my feelings, don't tell me what to do. I don't care 'cause I'm on my side and I can see through you” (Escape, Metallica).

From my book "I am - Absolute freedom"
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