Not About Fashion

I was born rather dead. We all were.

I do not mean that you were born with a heart that does not beat, lungs that do not breathe, or a brain that does not think- well, most of you. I mean that you are born a hollow shell, to be filled with the words that you speak and that actions that you take. You are born an empty canvas, waiting to be painted. So why are you still blank? Why have you yet to pick up the brush? Why are you so goddamn silent? Does it not bother you, to sit and watch as the very ground beneath your feet crumbles? Does it not bother you, to watch as innocent people die? Is the silent witness not just as guilty as the murderer himself? Do these burning questions not scorn your very existence?

The world will not change until you change it. Someone else cannot change the sweeping current of society if the entirety of society is waiting for that someone else. That being said, change will inevitably ensue, and when it does, do you not wish to be a part of that movement? Furthermore, do you wish to be born rather dead and also die rather dead? In that case, wouldn't you rather never have been born at all?

I will pause here with my burning questions, though I could continue on for centuries. In the grand scheme of things, I would like to remind you that you are not given one exact direction in life. Perhaps, you were born into an unfortunate situation; but to spill one glass of milk does not mean to dump the entirety of the gallon on the floor. Whatever change it is that you seek is possible, but nothing in your life will work unless you do first.