You ARE Your Fucking Khakis

 

Hi,

My character is named Weenu.  Don't ask me about my class or alignment - it's none of your business.  We all have skills.  We are all valued members of the adventuring party community.  Morality is relative, everything is basically equal... cats and dogs should be able to legally get married and being a MAP (minor attracted person) is probably even better for environmental justice than heteronormative sexuality because systemic racism, queerbaiting, feminism, the patriarchy, cops, Kyle Rittenhouse, and climate change.  

Weenu identifies as sword-wielding and mandolin strumming, loves chocolate, but most importantly wears khakis.  Their khakis is an important part of the character concept.  In fact, it's the main driving force behind their entire personality... just like me. 

Assuming that I'm a bard is both transphobic and racist, and don't assume gender or sexual preference - flutter-shy pixie/orc fluid hemaphrodite and humiliated lifeguards wearing tie-dyed grape-smuggler swim briefs, respectively.

Their race is an ethnic blend of humanix, zebratopic, meercat, dwarven apologist, and shame-elf.

___________

Alright, hoss... let's real-talk this bitch!  The above identification is like anchoring yourself to an illusion of something you think resembles who you are.  It's a lie, and you will drown thanks to your inability to think for yourself.  Let go of the anchor and swim.  

Identification is literally sleepwalking through life. Wake the fuck up!

VS