Monologue

I do not want to live a prisoner, ashamed of being a woman. I am not going to be a consenting captive of a psychopathic social system, but a native. I want to feel at home, keep house, and be my own mistress, with a room of my own. I want to do my work there, whatever I may be good at, art or science or technology or running a company or sweeping under the beds, and when someone tells me that it’s all crappy second class work because a woman is doing it, I will tell them to go to hell. I want to live, not be despised for living. I am not weak, helpless, uncontrolled. I want to live without the need to dominate, and without the need to be dominated. I never want to be a victim, but I do not want any power over other people. When I fail, lie defeated; in pain and in the dark, I will remember that darkness is my country. I live there, no wars are fought there, no wars are won. Only, only the future is found here. I am going to my country on my own terms, in my own way, I am going to live through the night…and find my future.