conform or be destroyed. this is the ultimatum of the puppets and puppet masters alike.

this is gender, this is how one behaves, dresses and acts. fit in, knuckle under and question not.

there is this ever present sense of the end of all things that lurks within us all, the fear of our immanent demise. we create, we love, we party, screw and fight and all the while annihilation is writhing beneath our skin. for some of us there is no ignoring this, no retreat to the fox hole of hypocrisy. so we say f-it it, all we do is done in defiance of this self inflicted illusion of existence, of permanence. this is why we do not fit with the collective, corporate, hypnosis that shapes the dreamscape of our present society.

fear of our cessation drives the heartless to the safety of labels, to cut and paste a comfortable lie upon everything and everyone .

to reject these labels of acceptable expression is to become a target. 

to refuse to conform to the standard of sexuality gender race and class is to open yourself up to retaliation, sometimes this abuse is state sanctioned. often even.

yet we carry on defiant and doomed.

transcending all labels. finding beauty even in our inevitable dissolution.

when you carry the Apocalypse in your veins everything you do had the after taste of decay, as for me, with this I am okay.