Thoughtcrime

My emotions are not a disease.

My thought patterns do not need to be regulated.

My mind is the only thing that is uniquely mine. I will not change it because it doesn’t fit your standards.

I will not submit to mind altering drugs because a group of scientists got together and decided that the way I think and feel is not the way humans are supposed to think and feel.

How can there be a *wrong* personality? That’s only a matter of opinion.

Am I sick because my mind is not the type of mind preferred by the current regime?

They would cast me out for being different- an abberation. A mutant.

I am not sick because I Feel deeply, fully, passionately, broadly.

I will not be told that I am damaged goods because I operate to a greater degree of efficiency than others of the same model.

We do not deaden our nerve endings because we can feel pain. Why should I set chemical barriers in my mind to keep me from feeling mental pain?

You say it would make my life easier? Hell with that!

I have knelt at the altar of choice and made my offerings to chaos. I have drunk deeply from the water of struggle.

Struggle. That is what my life is, that is what my life should be. Without struggle there is only stagnance. There can be no joy without pain, no peace without war. Balance is not a continual state of flat-line; it is a constant seesaw, a war between two weights. So I have written, time and again throughout my life.

If I can feel more deeply than others, maybe it is they who are broken, not I. They who will only ever know a tiny little sliver of sensation. They who eat grain and mush when there is sweet chocolate and bitter coffee. They who will never know true joy, true sorrow. They who will never shine with the light of inspiration- never weep under the moon of despair.

I am a child of fire and ice. I who have stood in light and chosen darkness, I who have stood in darkness and chosen light. I who have lived and loved and fought and followed the Trickster Lord of Chaos down the primrose path covered in glass and brambles. I, child of berserkergang, whose blood runs as sluggish ichor through my veins, I will NOT be tamed. I will not surrender my thoughts as long as there is breath in my lungs and a spell in my heart.

As before, I choose struggle, I choose chaos, I choose WAR. And if it is a war I am destined to lose, like the Gods at the Ragnorok, then so be it. I will go down as I lived then, passionately.

I will not fade quietly into the twilight.

I will not cut myself off and live in the tiny, sectioned off part of the world of my mind that has been deemed ‘safe’ by the authorities. I will travel outside the green zone into the deepest jungles and the highest mountains and I will scream out in defiance of the arbitrary laws that humans allow to conrtol them.

I will not sacrifice myself on the altar of the mundane to stand amongst the unfeeling throng.

I will stand in shadow and sun and proclaim myself FREE and WHOLE.

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