I’m running my very *self* through the cold, hard, sieve of knowledge classification and letting it slice me into pieces.
I don’t like it. I don’t like being judged. I don’t like being classified, categorized, put on a shelf.
But when I’m dead, should my multidimensional consciousness no longer need such trivial things as classifications, nevertheless, the humans left behind here *will* slice and dice me… that is.. if I was famous, which I’m not.
But if I was… somebody would be doing this.
So, I’m doing it instead.