We Are Equals
"Men rape and brutalize each other. Equal treatment is not much of an advance."
I have dipped my toes in the cool water that is Prose. But with this comment on my post about rape, someone peed in the pool.
I imagine this person signing into their account, writing that comment, and going back out into the world feeling safe in the dark.
In the dark, I wake up. This was a fever dream. But in the light of my bedside table lamp, I look down and see my hands. They are made of stars.
I can cast over everyone what I truly believe.
I can finally say my piece.
At the end of time, all stars will die out, one by one. Ultimately, one last star will remain. It will shine the only light that is left, into the universe.
Perhaps this is my chance.
In the darkness, I sit up and grab pencil and paper. I start to write.
There are typos, edits that need to be made. I wipe away the pencil with the tears that accompanied my waking up.
I want their to be equality.
I have done it. With my pencil, I have written what the person had said in my comments, except I fixed it. I made it so we have equal treatment.
But let's go back to what they actually said.
"Equal treatment is not much of an advance."
What did this person want? Did they want anything at all to change?
I try to think. The pencil dangles in my hands. Finally, I write something down, no edits needed.
"I want there to be no more ignorance."
Maybe we can all be stars, illuminating, and not peeing, in a pool of someone else's tears.