i would change it, but because it’s you, i can’t. because no matter how much i might try to pretend to the public that i was writing about a general you, that you was inspired by your you.
and your you likes what you like, and i will not devalue that or take that away from you, because fuck labels. fuck society trying to tell you who to like, what to like, how to like, where to like, when to like, why to like. because it’s your fucking life, and you have to do you.
because if you don’t do you, i don’t know how i can justify the rest of us doing us. because you’re you. i’m me. she’s she. he’s he. they’re they. xe is xe. and nothing anyone tries to say or do will change that.
so i cling. i cling to the tiny slivers of hope that pass me by, like frogger’s logs on a river.