The uselessness of reticence

I am an observer of the daily struggle for identity in a place borne of exploitation and mis-education.

I struggle to shake the demonic grip of colonialism with its dogma and hegemonic indoctrination yet daily I wonder how much I am a result of this experience I so abhor.

I reject the piousness of the self-righteous; silently de-constructing their blindness.
I witness their hypocrisy: idiosyncratic moral liberties ingrained into their psyches.
Yet I don’t speak up for fear of confrontation.

I examine their moral fabric,
Jokingly questioning its integrity while silently laughing at its filth.
For kicks I poke holes in it with witticisms,
Yet I do not tell them about their dirty cloth for fear of offending.

I smirk when I notice the Orwellian nature of the keepers of this zoo.
Lumbering along the same path as the herds; never brave enough to make a new one.
I hear them parroting their teachers; oblivious that their gibberish creates amusement and embarrassment,
Yet I get the joke and do not share it.

I smile to myself when I see their house is not in order.
How their compulsively homogeneous furniture is dissimilar and I can see the difference.
But I do not tell them for fear of shattering their façade.

I hear the names that I am called and answer to most inside.
Within I am defiant, exuberant and bold yet on the surface I am stoic, terse, and cold.
This useless pride behind a mask, veiled by a pseudonym is a betrayal of the majesty kept trapped within.

The magic we all possess but is yoked by fear.
Fear of rejection, fear of offending, fear of isolation.

We second-guess our instincts and rely on convention.
Slaves to a normative orientation; afraid to stand out.

Limiting the flights of the imagination by caging our thoughts.

To what end?

Must we be trapped in mediocrity because we are afraid to speak up?

Afraid to go against the grain and stand alone in defiance?

This demonstrates the uselessness of reticence.

Dwelling in the mind we are impotent in this insulated abode.


© 2008 Brian-Paul Welsh

Subscribe in a reader