liberation through a story

I talked before about voiceness and how that if I had no fear I would tell the world my story. I think story is one of the most important things we have. Your story, whether it contains beautiful bright elements or the darkest of days, is something that has shaped you into the person you are today. I believe this fully about my story. But stories aren’t just things to look back on or to learn from or to keep to yourself. They are filled with power, emotion, and a universal language that everyone understands. This is why literature is such a beautiful and powerful way of expression. People get into a story, relate to a story, and really feel for the person whom the story is about. That character’s voice rings though the listener’s ears and is heard loud and clear. This lets the domino effect of voiceness live on. When you tell your story, when you completely open yourself up to people and lie there absolutely vulnerable, it gives that person a sense of understanding and love they may have never experienced. It allows them to gain the courage to do the same for someone else. That is the gloriousness of voiceness. Last year when my school had Take Back The Night, I got up to the lectern, took a deep breath, and in front of over 100 people, talked about my depression, and how I was silenced, much like people are silenced when they experience violence. And I expressed a universal pain and aloneness all sufferers feel. I connected with people, I felt connected with people, I felt the love in the room, and I felt loving. Finally sharing my story with strangers was one of the greatest feelings I’ve ever had. It was truly rewarding in so many ways.


“Swept up by a WAVE”

I spoke tonight,
About the pain—
About the loneliness and the pain.
The story’s been told before—

But not like this.

It’s been told before to men and women
In their glasses and dresses, suits and ties,
Lab coats, furious pens,
Questions and answers that never seem to end…

But not like this, no not like this.

To friends and family God knows how many times,
Crying and weeping till the tears roll on by.
To shadows and strangers who’ve heard it the most,
Yet say nothing back; they are far too close.

But not like this, no certainly not like this.

This time I spoke to the huddled masses
With long hair and a beard riding in on the asses.
I spoke for change, for radical noise and speech,
I spoke for Angela, Mary, Stacey, and Pete.

Yes, this was different. Painful but a great release.

I spoke of my story and my struggles and falls,
I spoke of my inspiration for it all,
I spoke of success and the afterlife,
I spoke of what we can do to fight,

Yes, this was certainly different. I finally had it right.

I spoke for all those that have no voice,
I spoke for all those that have no choice,
The ones that lie in fear and wait,
I bring them to the light at the tunnel to escape.

My god was this different. This was change!

Yet through all my efforts and all my strengths
The greatest of those came not from me.
I had the greatest of help from the greatest of souls,
And their collective hearts were more beautiful than gold.

How I longed this to be different. And they all made it so.

There comes a point where a person must see
Who he really truly loves the deepest in his heart.
And I really must say, it’s the people like me,
Wearing pink and teal.

How I wish I were with them from the start.

As you know, I spoke tonight,
About the future,
The future looking bright.
“You are the light at the end of the tunnel,” she said.

Tonight is our night. Love will set us free!