Symmetrical, Privileged & The Victim

I am an objectively tall, subjectively attractive, male pales-kin.

I am not afforded the opportunity to be weak or injured or completely broken in the third eye of society on the third rock from the sun.

My caucus predecessors cashed in every ounce of give a fuck that the rest of humanity had for any baby back bullshit, and then laundered the rights of those that opposed.

I am meant to walk slow and ashamed.

I am to hang my head low and never speak again as anything to be said will come from a place other than knowing and therefore bears no weight in the face of arms.

Savings Private Ryan was the last great deed we shared, and even that came with shades of vain.

Whichever way the cookie crumbles it was probably my fault. When we’re slicing the pie, I will be given the largest slice of guilt for having won the race; all while bearing the weight, that of which being assigned as history’s oppressors.

As if I am the slave owning, civil-rights extorting, ignorant to life exploring, piece of schnitzel from the Motherland.

Every Being that I know loves watermelon & fried-chicken, get over it.