The moment you see something with your own eyes and feel injustice with all your senses, you cross an inner border, you know you can’t go back from there.
Is the claiming of modern identities killing our true identities? Are people confused by the lure of these images that place them in a favorable light?
I was reminded that shame may always be a companion, that no matter what I do, I can’t wholly undo shame. I don’t blame her, how could I? This is the air we breathe, the water we drink, fault and origin are less relevant than figuring how to feel ashamed and live your life anyway.