For me, I do not need to be human. I am inbetween, and I am comfortable with that, and accepting that inbetweenness is what gives me my humanity rather than robs me of it. Accepting it is what allows me to grow as a person. Animal, bat, is such an integral part of my being, my soul, that if I stopped trying to capture the good in it, the joy, the beautiful things, the ugly things; if I stopped trying to let it manifest in my life; if I did not seek to create things that bring me closer to that sense of home, it is then that I would stagnant, and I could not bear to live in a world where I am that person again.
If I never learn any particular lessons, if I do have a soul and I am forever a fucked up mix of human and bat with each incarnation, that is irrelevant. Because the real me and the current me will freeze and shrivel in the breathless pursuit of humanity. Whatever people want to consider truly human: if truly human exists without bat, I will never reach that state. And I don’t care at all.
words, words, words. 2016.