Being asked not to meet people, not to write, not to talk to people, not to express oneself is like being told not to live.

And yet people do it. As a price for love.

And that’s how love dies.

And out of that death is born obligation.

And that obligation becomes life.

And out of such a life rises hate.

Being asked not to say what one feels, not to express what one thinks, what one believes, is like being told not to be free.

And yet governments do it. As a price for freedom.

And that’s how freedom dies.

And out of that death is born a desire for change.

And that desire becomes life.

And out of such a life rises a hate.

Being asked not to eat what one wants, not to wear what one wants, not to sing, dance, jump, is like being told not to breath.

And yet religions do it. As a price for belonging.

And that’s how the sense of community dies.

And out of that death is born rebellion.

And that rebellion becomes life.

And out of such a life rises hate.

Being asked not to love all life, not to respect all cultures, not to interact, commune, collaborate is like being told not to be young.

And yet nations do it. As a price for citizenship.

And that’s how universal humanhood dies.

And out of that death is born patriarchy.

And that patriarchy becomes life.

And out of such a life rises hate.

I am a life. Hate me. Hate me for being not you.

Hate me for being not of your colour. Your race.

Hate me for being not of your kind. Your thought.

Hate me for being not you.

I shall still be me.

I shall still be a life worth living.

I shall still be me.