Fluid, migratory — we transgress. We sluice about in our identities and our desires.
We might describe ourselves in terms of race, gender, politics, religion… Or, then again, we might not. We can just be. We, ineluctably, exude self.
We resist stereotypes, archetypes and tired typecast notions. We awaken to ourselves every serendipitous moment. Surprised and fortified, we graciously accept the re-acquaintance.
We defy and decry the static name tags of convenience: black/white; straight/gay; right/left; atheist/believer. Such facile categorization leaves us bemused… or seething.
We dismiss the most blatant fib of all — the existence of an evil ‘other’ — for it is used to rationalize every sort of war, pogrom, bashing and vilification.
We smash the bogus binaries! We hail our mercurial selves!