Soul in a shell

At the end of the day, we are all simply a soul in a shell. Our level of comfort in our skin, and whether our stereotype-sorting society accepts us or not, will not matter when the flowers cover our grave and our soul leaves our package. We will not be remembered for the way we comb our hair or the colour of the clothes we wear. Our existence goes much deeper than the prints our worn-out shoes leave on the earth we travel. Our limbs and body parts do not define us, and our outer appearance is nothing but a box that will one day disintegrate.

The real you, your true self, the person you were born to become and meant to be, and the legacy you leave behind, are far more important aspects than the coulour of your eyes, your complexion, and your height or size.

A body without a soul is just a shell we once roamed in. The bones become cold and the skin becomes stiff when you depart. It therefore should not matter if we identify more with one gender than the other or have different and unique body art.

Nobody should be considered a minority, because all beings were created as equal. Those without this knowledge, in my opinion, have yet to live and learn.

Published by notapeepbutlotsofpaper

A silent voice with lots to say. I speak with pens to stay away.

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