if you were healthy
we wouldn’t be speaking of unhealthy choices that you make, which should be changed
if you were beautiful
we wouldn’t be speaking of how to improve upon your ugliness
if you were smart
we wouldn’t consort over methods to increase your consumption and processing of knowledge
if you were tall
we wouldn’t query of what it would be like to not be short and how different the view would be and the feel of air
if we did speak on these matters
it wouldn’t be because you suffered from their inexistence
it would be matters of vanity and the self-esteem and obsessions which blossom from that vane tree
so again
if I were equal
we wouldn’t quibble over matters of my inequality and programs geared to bring about better equality and inclusion
if America wasn’t racist
we wouldn’t debate over ways to solve the racial and problems of inequities and injustice
if we were all seen as human beings
than color would not have been invented nor a context of description and qualification
so if I was an American
then how many Americas are there? because our experiences just seem so different and far apart, yet you only speak from the America of your own view and experience and seem perfectly content with the fact that your experience isn’t the same as mine
boy, privilege sure looks good
not only do you get to feel and see things better
but you get to decide how I should see feel and experience them as well, and also create the titles which it falls under
if I had a mind like yours, in a body like mine, it’d be called insane
if not coping, compliant, complicit, conforming, and cognitively dissonant, distant, different, distraught, and destroyed
I’m not a human being
I’m not an American
I’m not equal
and justice is not my reality
I’m inherently sober
I can’t buy expensive hallucinogens
I just don’t have the privilege required to believe in things that don’t exist
I don’t have the privilege of obliviousness
I don’t have the privilege to believe in ghosts and other things that are not there
that are not real
nor see them as different than as they appear
humanity is as illusory as objects in my rearview mirror
I can see other ways, but to see it another way
that effect would be of a drug, a drug of choice
and you’ve been high on privilege
hallucinating from the gateway of denial
and I guess I’m just unhappily sober
a bummer and Debbie downer I suppose
no wonder I don’t believe in American Dreams
I’m not high enough, I can’t see them
so pass that shit
I wanna get busy doing nothing
and feeling good ignoring other people’s suffering too!
damn it must be nice up there?!
one can only hope
and cope
or get a rope,
mope
or get some dope
I need a break from reality anyway
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