I embody a contradiction which is in itself nugatory simply because only those who think in straitjackets find me questionable. I am fluid and permeable. The body is amorphous under the aegis of sexuality at the best of times. Yet i am seen as an equivalence, an either or. Yes i am ,in a sense, either or because it is as a woman that i identify myself. When my soul, my being,my innermost consciousness aligns me a certain way must i not then follow the promptings of what appears to me as incontrovertible truth. Must my luminous being waver and quiver when a wave of social remonstrance sweeps past, submerging me. I don't question the facts but i question things which are self proclaiming facts. Many a putative truth resides as universal because it has always, intractably seen so. And tradition has embalmed me in her portals as anomalous. I inhabit myths, legends, oral cultures. Sometimes i have been consecrated, at others desecrated. What i seek is not just an affirmation of my being but an interrogation of what passes for being. I inhabit tenebrous landscapes of dualities yet i am, of myself, singular and indivisible. The crenellations of who i am flank my soul and i endeavor to wrest, from the indeterminacy of phenomena, a sliver of identity. Undoubtedly in the penumbral hinterland of dichotomies, in their opacities and subterfuges my difference is emphasized, rendered 'other'. Yet if i am an other then i am an other among others yes even others that pass off as norms.
Equivalence studs me, stipples me but doesn't relinquish its irrecoverable finalities. It is as an adjunct to a narrative of multiplicities that i essentially function. Concatenations of possibilities coexist or at least ought to. I only seek legitimacy within that plurality, that polymorphousness. And what marks me out is my polychromatic sensibility. I am a mosaic where arabesques of variegations aggregate . I am the kaleidoscope where profusion and bountifulness converge. I do not desire to mythify myself or render myself romanticized. I simply asseverate that in me the differences intersect yet they don't resolve into ready answers. Rather i pose a question, a question which i seek an answer to from those who see me as alien. How normative is their sense of normal, i query? Are their self aggrandizements not a measure of how by shoving me aside they crystallized their presence. Might not i, not by asserting a predominance but by attesting to my ineluctable factuality defy the erasure they seek to impose?
My being spools out of nothingness. However, amidst the rubble of primeval non being i carve myself into the being i am. I feel what i am because right from the moment i came to be i saw myself that way. My actualization of my selfhood discomfits but is merely an obfuscation of how things get congealed as de rigueur yet remain pathologically precarious about their ubiquity. I intend to discomfit. Not by iconoclasm only but as a struggle against odds to claim remnants of the all pervasive pool of identity and establishing a unique space for myself. My iridescence shall be undimmed, my luminosity unwavering. I will, like a wave, ebb and flow but establish incessant cycles of continuity because in a protean, kinetic world of significations i am, for me ,the only certitude. Till i attain completion, wholeness i intend to fight.