What a long and strange journey this past year has been. I have been riding highs and lows as I have been struggling to regain my freedom and find a balance between my desires for this movement and my own personal happiness.
I’ve made no secret of my often conflicting emotions or my disappointment in radical struggles here in the United States. Yet, despite my confusion about my own part in this messy struggle that now sees so many of us locked behind bars—so many split once again into factions, while many others hearts are broken by the betrayals of friends and former heroes—I have strived to remain true to the ideals in which I believe. It is often difficult to carry your head high when the rest of your life feels like you are falling apart, but we must continue to do so because it is only with our heads high that we can meet the eyes of our enemy and let them know that while we may be afraid we are not cowards; that while we may be hurting we are not broken, and most importantly, that while we may be small we are not weak, we are still defiant and we can still be dangerous.
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