Nothing I write here is all that unique.

But I guess I'm just boy enough for insecure men to start taking it seriously.

But what I know for sure, is my transformational queersters and earthen-care mothers have been screaming better words in the street long before I could feel what I thought I should speak. And they have said it with far greater diligent passion, honest love and unbridled intelligence than my feeble handed wordplay could ever relay. I'm a depression basket barely able to imbue their justified case and the pains they’ve endured for me, humanity and earth’s longevity.

And what did those in power do for the justice of their valiant movements?

Fuck them around toward cruel submission and deny them breathing space.

For it is the hardened minds that must wrestle death and transformation,

As it is the life-giver’s body tract that pulls us toward life’s essentialization,

And the ego of souls that balances furthest externalities within resistance.