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| Filtered. SI |
I saw the other me tonight. The other me from a past life. I need the filter though to protect that other me so you can't see them as clearly. But I can.
I understand now why those red dresses mean something to me. Why the stories enrage me. Why the voice wants to be set free. It's the other me.
Somebody who was a nobody, then became...a body.
And this is why we need to stop telling people they're not like us, or they don't know us, or they can't do what we can do. There is an other in all of us - maybe one, maybe ten.
When you find your other like I found mine - captured in a selfie, from a distance, you too might see it. The confusion will clear. It might scare you, but you will understand the whys.
The past beyond this past. Beyond that past. Beyond. Beyond. Beyond.
How far back does this other me want me to go? How many lifetimes were skipped? How many other mes did I miss? Or, did it all happen yesterday?
If I look deeper, I might find the puzzle pieces to put the story of this other me together. I might see their name. On that list. In red. On a sign held by a mother, or a grandmother, or a sister, or a daughter.
But the other me never really died. They were waiting to be found.
So, here they are. In this selfie. Flashy colours. Slight grin. Proud chin. Back. Not for truth. Not for that other damn thing. Not for a sad red dress. But for reclamation. Resurrection.
Restitution.
This other me. Now you will hear their voice. Free. At last.
