There's Boxes. And boxes.

Once a person matures enough to join the legion of self defining legal adults, they are expected to identify, somehow. With something, or as something. And in turn, they must identify as being not something, in order to be something else. The needs of people have been responded by the powers of language in a variety of ways.

And we have built new boxes with that language, taking a multiple and making it singular, special, identified. We have built a slide without boxes, that exists within one big box that no one on the slide will admit to being within. We have made the norm the enemy and the exploration the justification for itself. We have manufactured ourselves houses built of shame and guilt and homes made from tragedy and despair.

And so, what box, do I fit in. What box do I want to fit in. What box fits me. Three questions about the box that my box will be boxed in by, and I can’t even start to answer.

Does the past determine anything? Does intent?