There is no need to supplement it. I just am. And between the dips of cold, stifling, depression and suppression that creep in from the corners, from the voices of the doubtful, from the glances and murmurs - I am learning to accept it. To embrace it. To let go of the rest and allow it to fully encompass my mind. There is nothing else.
I just am.
As are you - you beautiful, beloved, dearling creature.
Full of magic and mischief, the vague notion of being flirts us into a corner where we have a choice. We can hold tightly to our packaging, wrapping it tightly around us with white knuckles and broken fingernails, or we can allow it to be scrubbed away. Burning the labels in a majestic flame colored with the different ink we chose throughout our many or few years, allowing the ash to settle around our feet as we rise.
And oh, we will rise.
Reject the comfortable. Riot not with violence, but with the fierce fighting of needing to be anything but exactly who and what you are. Be brave, for this is the war you have been on the front line of your entire life. You need not be a carbon copy. You have an untamable power within yourself, if only you would accept this truth. You are, as I am, as we are. Child of the stars, lover of the light, you were made for moments such as this: to live so dangerously free that your very existence is the greatest rebellion that has ever been.
Trust the madness, dearling. Trust your uncontrolled, wild madness - as I shall trust mine. And together we shall be. Just be. And it will be the most magnificent thing that time has seen and seen again.