The Oppressors, the oppressed and the revolution

We live in a society where the governments preach that everyone has a right to their freedom of expression. Indeed in some parts of the world the former is true – we do have freedom of expression.

But just so we are clear, the definition of freedom of expression in this world insolubly relative from country to country. From town to town. From community to community. From home to home. From person to person. The question I am trying to forge here is why would a society want to tell persons to be themselves and then stare them in the eye and judge them for it?

This issue isn’t one that’s happening now. It has been inbred in our genealogy for generations and the more persons speak out against it, the stronger – the more pervasive it becomes.

I simply refuse to believe that I am the only that finds society to be suffocating and limiting the expressions of its citizenry. Our own parents would let us be anything we want but not let us be ourselves.

And so it goes, the top 10% can do whatever it is they want without being looked down upon or frowned upon, but as soon as the 90% begins to even remotely follow suit, the wrath of the Gods is bestowed upon them. The Athena of blows pelts across their backs. Really? Is that it? Is that what time has done to us? I am truly perturbed.

I’d be nothing less than a hypocrite and a downright liar if at any time I say that I have expressed myself completely without the fear of being judged or associated with certain classes of people. On that noted I’d like to say that  I refuse to follow the rules that the conventional monkaholics of society have set up and the way that they control people with low self-esteem, with improper information, with branding, with marketing.

I simply cannot conform to those rules and ideologies. For me, its about truth. It’s about information. It’s about awesomeness. And the only luxury is time, time that you spend doing whatever it is you can afford to love. That’s the only luxury, so the concept of luxury is improper to me. Because what if I love something I can’t afford? Then what? I don’t love it? Do I hate it? Do I stand and admire it from across the street?

And mind you my friend I am not talking about finances when I say afford, what I mean is, can I love it without being judged. Can I truly love it without the world looking at me in scorn because I don’t belong in that class? Can I love it?

When persons are oppressed they go underground, and when that underground rises, its called revolution. When will Guyana have its revolution of some sort.