If there is rhythm to life, then I am tone deaf;
if harmony, then I am discord.
In life’s stream, I am not the flow, but the stick that protrudes diverting the current.
Injustice prevails; wrongs need to be righted. I have passion and if I follow that passion it will be the red blotch on society’s nice white linens – my heart is too burdened for niceties, my body too battered for pretences.
Conditioning has silenced me for too long – I am shedding this good girl skin – exposing my rattle.
Let life begin.