I am a coward

Actually, this post could as well be empty, the title should suffice.

I changed my name a few days ago. I had good reasons to do it. Bulletproof argument, right? Oh I forgot what a fucking coward I am! That’s where things go wrong, you see…

I had discussed this with my parents before I changed my name on Facebook, and they were fine with it. But the next day my mother called me and told me how I am from a small town and how everyone watches me and talks about me. How, to live peacefully in a society one needs to adhere to its rules and conventions.

My head started spinning with the feeling of uncontrollable nausea by the kind of things people talk and gossip about. I won’t even mention here the kind of downright disgusting rumors go along with something like changing my middle name. But who gives a fuck, right?

It is easy to not give a fuck about what the stupid, bigoted, misogynistic retards say. Worthless scum like that is just going to spew bile. You know what is not easy? To make your parents too not give a fuck about this shit.

I can’t stand them being bothered. I can’t get them to stop being bothered. And thus, the procedure to officially change my name, which I had just barely initiated, hangs suspended indefinitely.

…because I’m just an attention-seeking, incompetent, spineless coward who goes around beating the drum of his idealism just to cower away at the first sign of slightest trouble.

“If you can’t stand by your ideals, STFU about it.”
“Sorry Shaktimaan!”

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