This privilege that I have accidentally inherited is the anchor around my neck. This privilege that I have randomly acquired is the monkey on my back. If I were a woman, I’d be a man hater. If I were red, yellow, black, or brown, I’d be a white hater. If I were homosexual, I’d be a heterosexual hater. If I were, if I were, if I were, but I’m not. I cannot claim to be the former. I target myself as the latter. As the former I pull back the trigger and launch these bullets of hate at myself, the latter. This privilege that was bestowed upon me at birth is the burden that weighs me down. This privilege that is so often used for gain will be my downfall. If I were elderly or a child, I’d be a middle-aged hater. If I were “lower class”, I’d be a class hater. If I were non-human, I’d be a human hater. If I were, if I were, if I were, but I’m not. I’m the cause. My privilege is the cause of all this pain.
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