i have been where you are and i am unafraid of you

ladies and gentlemen.

i am all sound and fury, you know that already, and if you didn't then you should open your eyes and listen for once in your life instead of already filling in the words where you see fit. how's that for a start? i knew you'd like it. today and now is sound and fury, all of it, and i have not even the slightest bit of right to talk about this but here we go, friends, you listen now and you listen well.

there is something about finally hitting upon the right word, isn't there? something so pure and good and like a sound you couldn't hear even if you wanted to so badly you imagined it. the right word here, in this instance, is vulgar. how's that? vulgar, of all things. that's what the exact right word is. that is what describes writing and saying and salt-and-peppering your own life with the so-hard-won and fought-for identity of others. that is what describes taking what was formerly--and is now, even!--violent insult and making it your own, making it okay to use because, well, of course you've experienced it so then naturally you have all the rights to use such words and without fear! correct? i tell you that is incorrect and what else, is that it is vulgar to do so. that is the word i have been looking for, friend. vulgar.

what i mean here is, identity is a hard-won and long-fought for thing, whether it is a question of race, sexuality, family struggle, addiction, disease, or whatever else. and to use the words that mark that identity so carelessly can provoke sound and fury, not that it was so difficult to do in the first place.

i can't decide if being careless with the words that create identity or being careless with words at all makes me angriest, though i suppose we will find out in time, yes?