Speak

When I think of myself as a mummy, this image comes to mind. Yes, I am a bit like a hot dog. My Grandmother would disagree. She thinks all my ex boyfriends are hotdogs. Once she refused to allow an ex of mine to be invited to a BBQ at her house saying "why bring a hot dog to a picnic?" But Grandmother isn't here, and sometimes I do feel like a hot dog.

This photo depicts my thoughts for this blog on a second, much deeper level. These mummies have no mouths. Perhaps so the chef could enjoy the tasty morsels without their annoying protests. Perhaps it's so they deliberately appear less human; anything without a voice cannot have an opinion and without an opinion no person really exists.

And we have reached the moral of the story. I am a person. I AM! I have an opinion, I have a voice, I have a mouth! I will no longer allow it to be muffled with linen or bound with cloth. I am, this very day, ripping off the band-aid. Swift and not quite painless I will open my lips in a sleepy yawn, stretch my vocal cords and begin to speak.