Oh, you’re one of those.
Oh, you’re one of those people,
Oh, you’re one of those girls,
You’re one of them.
Into corners we push our foreign
The disagreers, the nonbelievers,
Neatly dusted into piles where we can ignore them
And through objectification we are freer.
We are not homogenous
Not like those with the audacity to disagree
With the individual humans that make us
For we are safe from their obscenity.
Speak your mind of course,
As long as it abides by our unspoken consensus
(Or is laced with agreeable remorse)
that our beliefs are relentlessly just.
Should you disobey,
May you live pleasantly,
With them.
But then how could I be one of them (a),
When they just called me one of them (b)?
Do I become one of them (x)? them (z)?
Could I just be one of… me?
The Joy Seeker 