Found this hiding in the "drafts" section

But why? Why not love all the converging generations and the odd pieces of the people that don't fit in? Aren't those the best parts? What is wonderful about the parts of a person that have learned to be normal? The pieces that used to be strange and spectacular, but now settle into extraordinarily unsettling normalcy, emptying, empty. That mocking familiarity so willing to ridicule unknowingly. Setting up a defense. And each defense tears at the others and before long, the world is in shreds. Freedom is an arsonist; I want no part in the war games.