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humanity

Humanity is a convention none of us agreed to. Look at my face and tell me whether I am some kind of defaced monster.

Stare at my lifeless gaze and tell me what is inside of me, if there is, and if there is, whether you call it human.

What is being human but a set of rules, of prejudices, of conventions that they say we have to follow?

What does it mean to be a person? Who says so? How much do they reign over my soul to tell me so?

It is a big deceit, a deception, they only dehumanize when they feel they have to.

But they all were human, the murderers and the genocidal, and at the same time none of us is, only because they say so.

Then I am not human, I refuse, I will not bow down, anything but that. You won't hear me say I'm human.

I say I have wings but that you can't see them. I say I have fangs but that I won't bite you.

Feel my breeze, feel the power of having the domain of oneself and not get lost.

Because I am like a wolf to people and people are like wolves to me.