The nuisance of identity labels can infuriate.
For those who collaborate they always administrate and stereotype.
To indoctrinate the process goes a little something like this,
Visual assessment ideates a type to locate a box then peel the back off the label to slap! that sucker right on.
Bob’s your uncle you now believe you can relate, communicate and accommodate others in your culturally myopic world.
The initiate buxom blonde attempts to ingratiate by punching out ‘hey you boi”
What the fuck, who the hell are you to call me boi?
Ready to annihilate, grrrr
The blonde incriminates the body and conflates the look with a contemporary appropriate.
Boi, butch, femme have no magistrate as the boundaries are continually blurred to misappropriate.
Boi paints her toenails pastel pink and the femme manipulates a strap-on for her butch to labiate.
If you believe my intention is to litigate the labeling then you’re correct.
The point is to renegotiate and liberate the dykeotomy of my identity.
To self accentuate the nuances of the personal is to ruinate the label.
Then again you may think what I speak is to merely masturbate.
Luvbeingadyke March 2013