With the world of things around me, I would not have opted for a life to begin with. What rightful a life is if my happiness is conditional upon some others’ discomforts? Not only was I brought to this world without my expressed permission, but each act of mine subsequently were determined by existing norms of an (in)human society which has resulted in mutual hatred among peoples, a society whose legitimacy I reject wholeheartedly.
This deep anguish of helplessness and implicit submission forms the core of what I call my life. This is a life that’s ceased to be personal for long. Since the time I violated the enforced norms purposively and refused to surrender, I joined ranks with the social misfits—whose life experiences have varied not in types, but in degrees. With that, my personal journey has somewhere down the roads got mingled with the social roads not often taken, but largely despised.