Whitman Homage

I am a girl, delighted with the simple joys of the flirtatious text
I am a woman, calculating the cost of the message- in my emotional bank, as well as amongst this months mass of monies owed
I am a collector of dollars of the consumer, the customer.
I am the customer.

I am a student, impressed at times by my own insights. Depressed as they lack luster in comparison to my classmates.
I am a classmate, my class mate, a red hot aura of frustration and elation, exhaustion and awareness.
Perceptions of the other rarely leave from for extenuating circumstances.
But circumstances always extenuate.
Maybe she has a reason for selecting such a horrendous hair color.
Could be that she likes it.
But the point is, the point is is that its her hair to color, her images to create, her persona to make for the rest of the world’s viewing pleasure. Or displeasure.
Whatever.
The freedom of choice and the freedom of will inspire and instill in our hearts a desire to BE.
Be you be me be yourself be ourselves be a bitch be a tease be a goddess on her knees. Be Meredith Brooks.

Gone are the days when my voice didn’t count because I am female, I am not white, I am underclass, I am uneducated.
Gone are the nights where it was not safe to walk alone, walk solo home.
Or so we tell ourselves.
Our fairy tales are no longer of Cinderella’s and Belle’s, of mermaids and faeries.
Our fairytales now are tales (lies) about crime, lies about equality, lies about safety, lies about lies.
When faced with the truth our American eyes grow wide and our American brows arch in alarm.
We react with denial, with a sharp rebuttal, because we couldn’t possibly live with ourselves if we lived in a country that did that.
But we do.
Acceptance creeps across us without our notice, like maple syrup across pancakes, until we’re engulfed, engrossed, and covered. Suffocated and stuck by the truth.
The truth that we should cut back on the latter half of apple pie and increase our intake of the former a little.
The truth that the obesity problem is a problem, our problem, and laying blame about why I’m fat doesn’t make me not fat.
The truth that 4000 pairs of boots is a lot to carry around. And they’ll be at ISU. Remember who they used to belong to. And you know what else is a lot to carry around? The baggage left behind by the former boot owners, before they died in a war they did not ask for.
The truth that truth is entirely subjective.
There is no objective truth. (Your welcome, Nietzsche)
There is no absolute truth (Sorry religion)

There is only a you and a me and an us and a they.
And we can’t be defeated by them. We must band together against the ever changing attacker- them!
We have chosen to be who we are, what we are. And so we have chosen to scare ourselves shitless.
And that is a good thing. Because one of them just ran off with the last roll of Charmin.