Still we slumber / What to do if you suspect your subordinates suspect you are an ISD agent
Poem in English
First,
fucking don't project onto them. That's abusive, and you know it.
One day, you will have to deal with that
on your own terms.
Don't believe me? Ask some of my own ex-superiors and abusers.
The ones who are getting what they deserved
from the universe. Not from me.
I don't give a fucking damn.
But if you project onto someone who calls me a lover or family member or teacher or close friend
then, if they tell me,
I will eventually know.
And I will do nothing
other than gently and informally let the entire world understand
what game you may be planning.
What lies you might be hiding.
What stories you might want us to believe
we are just telling ourselves.
Again, truth be told, I have better things to do,
like understanding just how fucking far away I want to get from you
and anyone else who reads my poetry, and doesn't get what is so ridiculously clearly stated and true:
treat me with respect, and with full honesty, and authenticity.
And the same goes for anyone you know is dear to me. But yo, if you still use
all of this against me,
well.
I still will do nothing
but let the universe know, quietly and consistently,
that the rest of humanity only deserves the same
full
unbridled
relentless
truth.
And hey,
you never know.
It may already be common knowledge. I don't need no lovejuice. No lotion.
It may already be
old news.
It may already be something
that anyone of adult age understands:
something that is already in full, obvious, ridiculously clear
view.
Where does that leave you?
What can you do?
I would say, for the nine hundredth thousandth quadrillionth time
please just figure out, for once,
what a life lived on your own terms, independently, thoughtfully and maximally,
actually might mean to pursue.
It takes confidence.
It takes quite a bit of truth.
If all this yielding is not a dream,
then you are a shadow,
and you have offended,
with chaos quite often to ensue.
But in the end,
just like my predecessors,
I am a fucking honest Puck,
and my words are ultimately few.
At best,
it's all just fancy words:
what it really only takes
is you.