![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm not sure what it is I like so much about this story, but, I like it, so, I'm reblogging it here. I think, I just feel that this song is very creepy, in a wonderful way.

blackbird singing in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly
Oh, but if they knew, that she already can fly. Her wings might be broken and torn, but what they don’t understand is the power of the flock. How can they? The kind of people who simply destroy things for fun, who would tear her apart just because she looks different, because her skin is not the black of warm earth but the black of the cold night sky, because her eyes burn like the last, protesting scraps of a fire as it dies. Those people can’t understand what it means when you is not just you, but you is all of you, all of your species, all of nature.
She is never alone, and, though she is broken, their wings will hold her. They will hold her through storm skies, they will hold her through howling winds, and they will hold her all the way up, up, above the world, free from their cages and their lies.
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
Put stickers on bird cages at Petsmart today and put protest letters in the mailbox... for some reason, things like this take so long for me. It's not an action of a few minutes to be activist, for some people. It takes hours. And, this was only a tiny thing. But, for this, it felt worth my energy.
I wanted to do something for the autumn equinox today too, but... could not think what. Maybe it's a good day to begin using my death rosary finally. I could do that.

blackbird singing in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly
Oh, but if they knew, that she already can fly. Her wings might be broken and torn, but what they don’t understand is the power of the flock. How can they? The kind of people who simply destroy things for fun, who would tear her apart just because she looks different, because her skin is not the black of warm earth but the black of the cold night sky, because her eyes burn like the last, protesting scraps of a fire as it dies. Those people can’t understand what it means when you is not just you, but you is all of you, all of your species, all of nature.
She is never alone, and, though she is broken, their wings will hold her. They will hold her through storm skies, they will hold her through howling winds, and they will hold her all the way up, up, above the world, free from their cages and their lies.
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
Put stickers on bird cages at Petsmart today and put protest letters in the mailbox... for some reason, things like this take so long for me. It's not an action of a few minutes to be activist, for some people. It takes hours. And, this was only a tiny thing. But, for this, it felt worth my energy.
I wanted to do something for the autumn equinox today too, but... could not think what. Maybe it's a good day to begin using my death rosary finally. I could do that.