Once again I'm the White Nigger in my own birthplace.
I could go into detail, but suffice to say that the train has come round the circular track again, and I have been slapped down by the society of fools once more, for, well, for nothing.
Ever since I can remember, people behave any way they please, but as soon as I join in, the authorities come down on me like the proverbial ton of bricks.
I'm over fifty.
I no longer need to be told to 'reflect on what I've done'.
It doesn't wash. I never bought into the fraud, and I'm not about to start. That's despite some pretty powerful drugs which I 'must' use.
The fact is, these cunts want to break me and everybody like me, because we're the Sunflowers on the lawn, the Daisies growing among the grass, and they want to look out into the garden and see nothing.
Sorry, nothing but neatness. They don't want to be reminded of the choice to exist that they refused to take; they want to be safe, and too much colour in the garden blows their fake world into the weeds.
Maybe I should just go somewhere with room for weeds.