The Rebel

The lie compresses your chest until your mouth catches up.

Under pressure, the body coils. Compression in the chest. Constraint registers as something physical that has to move.

In the world.

You said the thing and the room went still. You said it again because the stillness was not an answer. People learn within a month of meeting you which version of the conversation they are going to get. The honest one. Or none at all. You have ended jobs, friendships, eras, usually with your name on the record. The people who matter to you respect what your honesty cost them. The people who do not, mostly stopped calling. You notice.

What it has cost you.

The cause you did not choose. Only chose against. The respect you have for the world's mess, eaten slowly by your contempt for it. The position of being constantly correct about what is broken, and never the one inside what is being built.

What you fear.

That without something to push against, there is no shape to you at all.

You also share the tribe with

The Inventor

The Jester

The Spark