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I am a willing servant of a kind Master. Are maids and butlers slaves? Perhaps valets and the like? Or maybe the timid office secretary sent to fetch coffee for her boss. You speak as if you are the bible of things and events. Yet you know nothing You simply assume. And find offence in a place were none lies. Stand on your own two feet and question not the actions of others but of yourself. What hapened to acceptance? What happned to tolerance? What happened to free will? It was shattered. By those like you. Who stand in the face of self expression and scoff with disgust at your own lack of dignity. Who criticize that which they themselves do not practic. Where are these slaves? I think I undersad now.
Your the slave. Obedient to the black and white of the old men with their old books and their old ways. Your the slave, to some random ideal instilled into your brain that said if it's not this way its wrong. Your the slave. Servient and submissive to the will of the massess ad not to your self.
Point at me. Riducule me. Call me what you will as I am the slave. I deny this charge. I do not serve out of fear. I do not obey out of oppression. I serve out of love. Out of free will. Out of choice.