maybe when i wake up tomorrow ill have the language to describe my identity, my name, my gender, my self, my any thing
Your honor, Mr. Webb here is trying to prove I'm not who I am. Don't see how I... how I can win anything that way.
You could win your life, sir.
Without my name, I don't think I have a life, your honor.
"I don't like to explain myself. I prefer the penumbra of not knowing. [...] I imprison myself and become concrete."
“It took many years of vomiting up all the filth I’d been taught about
myself, and half-believed, before I was able to walk on the earth as though
I had a right to be here.”
— James Baldwin, Collected Essays
Hello there. Could I buy you a cup of coffee? You see I'm just a wandering city mouse trying to get in touch with america. Now you look like you'd be a farmer.
Oh, I get it. You see a guy in a rural diner wearing shabby clothes and you pin your little label on him. Well, guess what? I am a farmer. But I'm also a beautiful, flawed, complicated human being. And it's going to take more than a cup of coffee to get inside here. [points at head]