People like you want people like us to hide.
Ain’t that fucking funny.
I’ve spent a long time hiding who I am, for my own safety and for the safety of those that I love but the truth of the matter is it didn’t get me shit. All I got was depressed.
And it’s important for me, you see, that now I’m free of Their grasp, that I never go back to that place again. Now, what you see is what you get, and what you get is 100% Vigour, baby. I do things in the open, I never work in the shadows, and I damn fucking well sure don’t like it when other people want me to.
But the truth of the matter is you’ve got it all upside down in those fucked up heads of yours. Because you want us to hide our truths. You want me to be meek and mild and stop living my life by the seat of my pants. You want Starboy to stop being lascivious. You want TGK neutered before he gets older and realises just how fucked up those heads of yours are.
And though you want us to hide, it is you who are hiding. Hiding behind the iconography of those masks of yours. Hiding behind a deity you claim to work on behalf of. Your God is dead, Vayikra. Hiding your sins behind his name just doesn’t cut it any more. And you know what people say – the most overt opposition to a lifestyle or difference are usually hiding something deep within themselves, too.
It wouldn’t surprise me if at least one of you hadn’t peeked in the changing rooms. I’m sure one of you must wonder what Starboy is like in bed given all the practice he’s had. You’re hiding all of those thoughts though, aren’t you? Because a book written by fucking virgin monks who undertook a vow of chastity centuries ago wrote that God told them that sex was bad and gay sex was the worst.
Guess what. The gods were here. Right here in OSW. And not a single fucking one of them gave a shit about who fucked who.
But the most fun part of all of this is your backwards methods. You want us to hide who we really are, but you literally tried to crucify TGK. And you actually crucified Deathnote. The point of crucifixion is it’s supposed to shame the witnesses against committing the sin of the crucified, but all you are doing is giving us a platform.
In showing us to the world you’re showing them our fight. Our spirit.
So instead of making us hide what we are, instead you’re exposing us for the world to see. Dicks on the fucking table. And we don’t give a fuck who sees. We’ll keep making noise until it’s too loud for your pathetic little ears and your shrivelled little brains. We’re done being silent, and we’re done being invisible. The aftermath is secondary.
So let’s do it now, and let’s do it loud!