Non-Conformity is the Key to my Survival

The price one must say for nonconformity is enormous. Anger from those who fail to overthrow you. Accusations of devious wiles, walking the world alone with the hatred of other weighing you down only for the moment. Those of us that do not conform are strong like blocks of steel ready to shake off the disgust of those who cannot understand us. Fear of no man.

When you do not feel the rage they do but simply smirk and whir a delicate few decibels of laughter at the ones who consider themselves normal. They say that I am mad, that I hallucinate, that I am stupid and do not belong in the world. Wisdom enough I have to understand that an assault on my person is actually an insult to one's self. Insecurity of the other is thrown upon me like a wet blanket that once law in the kennel of a rotten old bastard dog, I throw it off and stand tall like the fierce black queen of Africa I am. A valorous young woman with a future resembling the luminescence of a supernova. They point fingers in my face, try to lower my Highness. It's all just folly - they don't see the beast in me. Every negative epithet obliterated at the gnash of each canine and incisor sharpened to perfection. With flawlessly subdued rage simmered down to a peaceful simmer, my stature multiplies in size - only growing bigger. Don't feed the beast - you shall only create a monster.