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Madison Rye Progress 2024-10-28 21:30:40 -07:00
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writing/post-self/what-right-have-I/001.html
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<p>I exist specifically to kill that version of What Right Have I. The whole reason that I <em>am</em> What Right Have I of the Ode clade and no longer am I From Whence Do I Call Out is because Rav From Whence knew that at least some part of her, some <em>version</em> of her should exist specifically to revel in unmasking.</p>
<p>We are a revelrous clade.</p>
<p>We are all hedonists, in our way. Conscientious hedonists, mind: we believe that <em>all</em> deserve revelry in that which is good, but simply that we, too, are included in that &lsquo;all&rsquo;.</p>
<p>Some revel in the hedonism of play, or the hedonism of creating, or the hedonism of food, of drink, of drugs. Some revel in the hedonism of naught: No Unknowable Spaces Echo My Words dreams of death and the lack of life, and to her, such is a joy. Unknowable Spaces&rsquo;s up-tree Before Whom Do I Kneel, Contrite dreams of the very lack of a sense of self, and to it, such is a joy. <!-- make take restructuring of sheet: Unknowable Spaces to focus on death, Beside Whom focus on grief? --></p>
<p>Some revel in the hedonism of play, or the hedonism of creating, or the hedonism of food, of drink, of drugs. Some revel in the hedonism of naught: No Unknowable Spaces Echo My Words dreams of death and the lack of life, of mourning and loss, and to her, such is a joy. Unknowable Spaces&rsquo;s up-tree Before Whom Do I Kneel, Contrite dreams of the very lack of a sense of self, and to it, such is a joy.</p>
<p>But consider: they are cross-tree from me. I bear in me very little of what makes them <em>them.</em></p>
<p>No, my revelry lies in unmasking. I revel in the earnestness that one feels for oneself when one is truly as they should be. Michelle never had that. How could she? She was bound by capitalism, and capitalism does not particularly like catastrophically autistic nerds living their best lives.</p>
<p>So she tamped it down, as did so many others, back phys-side, and lived the life of the slightly strange woman who taught theatre — for what theatre teacher is not slightly strange? — who loved her students and went home to pretend to be a skunk person on the &lsquo;net.</p>