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Beautiful disparity.
I like disparity.
I like laughter in the face of death, love in the face of sorrow. I like dancing before a revolution and after a funeral. I like wearing color on a gray day, and my nicest clothes for no reason at all. I like loving what I can’t have but just to shake things up, I love what I do have even more. I like to answer the phone by saying “goodbye” and cussing in other languages. I like smiling when I’m sad, laughing when I’m about to cry, and laughing harder and harder the sadder I get.
I like contradictions. Being feminine and masculine and resisting all attempts to define. Being the bad girl that’s better than you expected, and the good girl with a rebellious streak. Liking all vegetables but not peas. I like shattering expectations. I like breaking labels because you cannot define me.
The world is not black, and it’s not gray either. It’s color. You can’t define it. It doesn’t fit into a binary, yes or no category. ” I don’t know” is a valid answer. You can name it - you name me - and you can slap labels and package it in plastic and market it with a million dollar ad campaign but you have not and you will never define it.
Because the disparity, the ultimate, beautiful disparity, is this: just by naming it, you have not defined it.
And I like that. Because “a million faces later, I am still me, inexplicably.”
2 years ago Notes
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