Yo escucho y creo que: no tiene nada que ver lo que yo
pienso, siento o en lo que creo. Tiene que ver con lo que siente, piensa y cree
otro ser humano.
Vivimos en un mundo donde es más importante tener razón
por tenerla que ser amorosos, empáticos y compasivos. Ni si quiera tenemos que
entender.
Nunca sabemos en realidad lo que cada quien carga en su
costal.
Y cómo tratamos y juzgamos lo que hacen o son los
demás... Así seremos tratados y juzgados... Dice alguna parte de la Biblia,
creo recordar. Y no lo quiero olvidar.
Frank Ocean escribe:
I read in the paper that my brothers are being thrown
from rooftops blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs for violating
sharia law. I heard the crowds stone these fallen men if they move after they
hit the ground. I heard it’s in the name of God. I heard my pastor speak for
God too, quoting scripture from his book. Words like abomination popped off my
skin like hot grease as he went on to describe a lake of fire that God wanted
me in. I heard on the news that the aftermath of a hate crime left piles of
bodies on a dance floor this month. I heard the gunman feigned dead among all
the people he killed. I heard the news say he was one of us. I was six years
old when I heard my dad call our transgender waitress a faggot as he dragged me
out a neighborhood diner saying we wouldn’t be served because she was dirty.
That was the last afternoon I saw my father and the first time I heard that
word, I think, although it wouldn’t shock me if it wasn’t. Many hate us and
wish we didn’t exist. Many are annoyed by our wanting to be married like
everyone else or use the correct restroom like everyone else. Many don’t see
anything wrong with passing down the same old values that send thousands of
kids into suicidal depression each year. So we say pride and we express love
for who and what we are. Because who else will in earnest? I daydream on the
idea that maybe all this barbarism and all these transgressions against
ourselves is an equal and opposite reaction to something better happening in
this world, some great swelling wave of openness and wakefulness out here.
Reality by comparison looks grey, as in neither black nor white but also bleak.
We are all God’s children, I heard. I left my siblings out of it and spoke with
my maker directly and I think he sounds a lot like myself. If I being myself
were more awesome at being detached from my own story in a way I being myself
never could be. I wanna know what others hear, I’m scared to know but I wanna
know what everyone hears when they talk to God. Do the insane hear the voice
distorted? Do the indoctrinated hear another voice entirely?
