What are you going to do for Someone else's Freedom?
I am skinny and I don't like cold. My lips quiver, my speech seizes, my nose shoots out mucus with every sneeze and I think my metabolism stops too, except my kidneys. It starts to produce urine like a liquor factory. The toilet must be within few paces away. Where there's no toilet, I can't handle myself when you put me in a cool room. My feet grow numb, I may have to postpone my presence at a meeting or a discussion to use the bath or the bush. I can cope with no fan or air conditioner all year long. Just give me a damn sweater and a wooly duvet, I'll be good for all seasons! But there is another type of cold I've grown used to. It's the place my unconventional ideas push me when I ever open my mouth. It's a damn cold feeling to be ostracised by people who once used to give you a warm hallelujah when you said something they agreed with. Now, no chants of acceptance, no chorus of praise, no little short speeches telling you how wonderful you are. You ar...
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