We spend our lives feeling everyone in the room while almost no one feels us. Each “you’re too much,” “too intense,” or “too sensitive” is another brick. The Wall maps how that wall gets built, how it holds, and why we keep tearing it down and building it back.

Act One: The Bricks

In the Flesh? The album opens mid-show, and that’s how it feels to be neurodivergent: we arrive already performing. Long before we know the word “masking,” we’re running a character built from everything that got us approved of. By the time anyone asks who’s underneath, we’ve forgotten. Note that the lyrics start with the second half of a sentence. That becomes important later on.

“….we came in?”

So ya
Thought ya
Might like to go to the show.
To feel the warm thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow.
Tell me is something eluding you, sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
If you wanna find out what’s behind these cold eyes
You’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise.

“Lights! Turn on the sound effects! Action!”
“Drop it, drop it on ’em! Drop it on them!!!!!”

The Thin Ice A warning to a child that the ground is fragile. We learn early that our natural way of being doesn’t hold weight. Too loud, too curious, too fixated, too emotional, and something cracks. So we learn to walk carefully, and we call that being “good.”

Momma loves her baby, and daddy loves you too.
The sea may look warm to you babe, and the sky may look blue
But oooh babe ooh baby blue
oooh oooh oooh oooh babe.

If you should go skating on the thin ice of modern life
Dragging behind you the silent reproach of a million tear-stained eyes
Don’t be surprised when a crack in the ice appears under your feet.
You slip out of your depth and out of your mind with your fear flowing out behind you
As you claw the thin ice.

Another Brick in the Wall, Part 1 The first brick is loss, and what’s missing is never named. For many of us, it’s the absence of being understood. Nobody did anything monstrous. Something just wasn’t there, and we filled the gap by holding ourselves together.

Daddy’s flown across the ocean
Leaving just a memory
The snapshot in the family album
Daddy what else did you leave for me?
Dad, what’d you leave behind for me?
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall.
All in all it was just bricks in the wall.

You! Yes you! Stand still laddy!

The Happiest Days of Our Lives School is where the first big lessons land. Daydreaming is treated as defiance and intensity as misbehavior, and sensitivity is mocked. For ADHD kids especially, it’s years of being told we’re not trying hard enough when we’re trying harder than anyone. The humiliation goes in deep, and it’s where rejection sensitivity gets planted. We are left with the idea that creativity is bad, our passions are too strong and are feelings aren’t valid.

When we grew up and went to school there were certain teachers who would hurt the children anyway they could.
By pouring their derision upon anything we did and exposing every weakness however carefully hidden by the kids.

But in the town it was well known when they got home at night their fat and psychopathic wives would thrash them within inches of their lives.

Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2 The kids shout back together, but the system keeps grinding. The machine grinds away differences and everyone comes out looking the same. Except for us. Many of us stop shouting and turn the anger inward, where it becomes shame. This is also where masking becomes a survival skill. We watch, copy, and rehearse, and we get good at seeming normal because the cost of seeming otherwise is too high. We become master actors in an attempt to look like everyone else.

We don’t need no education.
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone.
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.

We don’t need no education.
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone.
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.

WRONG! Do it again!
If you don’t eat yer meat, you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat? You! Yes you behind the bikesheds, stand still laddy!

Mother Love that smothers can teach the same lesson as cruelty: you can’t handle the world. Well-meaning adults often try to shield a child who feels too much, and the message we absorb is that our sensitivity is a defect to be managed. We learn to hide fear so we won’t worry anyone, or to say we’re fine when we aren’t.

Mother do you think they’ll drop the bomb? Mother do you think they’ll like this song? Mother do you think they’ll try to break my balls? Mother should I build the wall?

Mother should I run for president? Mother should I trust the government? Mother will they put me in the firing line? Mother is it just a waste of time?

Hush now baby, baby, dont you cry. Mother’s gonna make all your nightmares come true. Mother’s gonna put all her fears into you. Mother’s gonna keep you right here under her wing. She wont let you fly, but she might let you sing. Mama will keep baby cozy and warm. Ooooh baby ooooh baby oooooh baby,Of course mama’ll help to build the wall.

Mother do you think she’s good enough — to me? Mother do you think she’s dangerous — to me? Mother will she tear your little boy apart? Mother will she break my heart?

Hush now baby, baby dont you cry. Mama’s gonna check out all your girlfriends for you. Mama wont let anyone dirty get through. Mama’s gonna wait up until you get in. Mama will always find out where you’ve been. Mama’s gonna keep baby healthy and clean. Ooooh baby oooh baby oooh baby, You’ll always be baby to me.

Mother, did it need to be so high?

Goodbye Blue Sky Threat lives in the body from a young age. Many of us have nervous systems tuned high: sounds, lights, tension in a room, a change of tone. We sense danger no one else perceives, we feel the things the others are feeling and we’re told there’s nothing to worry about. Hypervigilance becomes the baseline, and we carry it into adulthood.

“Look mummy, there’s an aeroplane up in the sky”

Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter when the
promise of a brave new world unfurled beneath a clear blue sky?

Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
The flames are all gone, but the pain lingers on.

Goodbye, blue sky
Goodbye, blue sky.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.

“The 11:15 from Newcastle is now approaching”
“The 11:18 arrival….”

Empty Spaces We sense that something is missing between us and other people, and we can’t name it. It often feels like everyone else received a rulebook we never got. We work to decode what others do naturally, and we can see the gap without being able to close it. We have tried to hard to be like others and have failed miserably. We only know how to be ourselves, and we have learned not to like that. Better to finish the wall.

What shall we use
To fill the empty spaces
Where we used to talk?
How shall I fill
The final places?
How can I complete the wall

Young Lust Intensity substitutes for intimacy. ADHD brains chase novelty and the dopamine of the new, and a person can look like the answer to everything for a week or a month. Autistic hyperfocus can lock onto a person the way it locks onto a subject. What we want is to be seen, but what we find is stimulation, and the two aren’t the same. A new sexual partner each day is just the thing that we need.

I am just a new boy,
Stranger in this town.
Where are all the good times?
Who’s gonna show this stranger around?
Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.
Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.

Will some cold woman in this desert land
Make me feel like a real man?
Take this rock and roll refugee
Oooh, baby set me free.

Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.
Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.

[Phone rings..Clunk of receiver being lifted]
“Hello..?”
“Yes, a collect call for Mrs. Floyd from Mr. Floyd.
Will you accept the charges from United States?”
[clunk! of phone being put down]
“Oh, He hung up! That’s your residence, right? I wonder why he hung up?
Is there supposed to be someone else there besides your wife there to answer?”
[Phone rings again…clunk of receiver being picked up]
“Hello?”
“This is united states calling, are we reaching…”
[interrupted by phone being put down]
“See he keeps hanging up, and it’s a man answering.”
[whirr of connection being closed]

One of My Turns We play the gracious host, offering hospitality and conversation while running on empty, until something gives. A brick falls and we start to spill out. What looks like an outburst from nowhere is hours or years of absorbed strain finally leaking. The afterward is worse: “It’s just a bad day,” we say, minimizing what we know is a pattern, because we can’t afford to be seen as unstable.

“Oh my God! What a fabulous room! Are all these your guitars?”
“This place is bigger than our apartment!”
“erm, Can I get a drink of water?”
“You want some, huh?”
“Oh wow, look at this tub? Do you wanna take baaaath?”
“What are watching?”
“Hello?”
“Are you feeling okay?…”

Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man.
Night after night, we pretend its all right
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more.
And I can feel one of my turns coming on.
I feel cold as a razor blade,
Tight as a tourniquet,
Dry as a funeral drum.

Run to the bedroom,
In the suitcase on the left
You’ll find my favorite axe.
Don’t look so frightened
This is just a passing phase,
One of my bad days.
Would you like to watch T.V.?
Or get between the sheets?
Or contemplate the silent freeway?
Would you like something to eat?
Would you like to learn to fly?
Would’ya?
Would you like to see me try?

Would you like to call the cops?
Do you think it’s time I stopped?
Why are you running away?

Don’t Leave Me Now After the blow-up comes the panic. We push people away, then fear what we’ve done. The push-pull is part of rejection sensitivity: we expect abandonment, so we sometimes create it, and then we grieve it. And then we kick ourselves in the butt for it. Rinse, Repeat. Over and over.

Ooooh, babe
Don’t leave me now.
Don’t say it’s the end of the road.
Remember the flowers I sent.
I need you, babe
To put through the shredder
In front of my friends
Ooooh Babe.
Dont leave me now.
How could you go?
When you know how I need you
To beat to a pulp on a Saturday night
Ooooh Babe.
How could you treat me this way?
Running away.
I need you, Babe. Why are you running away?
Oooooh Babe!

Another Brick in the Wall, Part 3 Finally, a cold decision: we don’t need anyone. It’s less a feeling than a natural conclusion drawn from evidence. We’ve been hurt enough that solitude feels like the only reliable option, and we settle into it.

[Sound of many TV’s coming on, all on different channels]
“The Bulls are already out there”
Pink: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgh!”
“This Roman Meal bakery thought you’d like to know.”

I don’t need no arms around me
And I dont need no drugs to calm me.
I have seen the writing on the wall.
Don’t think I need anything at all.
No! Don’t think I’ll need anything at all.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.

Goodbye Cruel World The last brick is put in place. What began as protection is now a sealed room. Isolation and safety are the same thing, which is what makes the wall so hard to leave. No matter how much we crave connection, it feels better behind our wall.

Goodbye cruel world,
I’m leaving you today.
Goodbye,
Goodbye,
Goodbye.

Goodbye, all you people,
There’s nothing you can say
To make me change my mind.
Goodbye.

Act Two: Inside the Wall

Hey You A message shouted from inside, hoping someone will hear. This is the version of reaching out where we can’t ask directly, because asking has been punished before. Speaking directly is discouraged. Speak between the lines, don’t hurt feelings. But when we need help, we don’t know how to ask. We send signals and hope someone understands them.

Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?
Hey you, dont help them to bury the light
Don’t give in without a fight.

Hey you, out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?
Hey you, with you ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I’m coming home.

But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high,
As you can see.
No matter how he tried,
He could not break free.
And the worms ate into his brain.

Hey you, standing in the road
always doing what you’re told,
Can you help me?
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?
Hey you, don’t tell me there’s no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall.

[Click of TV being turned on]
“Well, only got an hour of daylight left. Better get started”
“Isnt it unsafe to travel at night?”
“It’ll be a lot less safe to stay here. Your father’s gunna pick up our trail before long”
“Can Loca ride?”
“Yeah, I can ride… Magaret, time to go! Maigret, thank you for everything”
“Goodbye Chenga”
“Goodbye miss …”
“I’ll be back”

Is There Anybody Out There? Silence answers. Loneliness with an audience is the worst kind, and many of us live surrounded by people while feeling entirely alone. Rooms full of people can be the loneliest places because we’re doing all the translating. We’re doing all of the feeling, the understanding and then we’re scared to talk because someone will think we are crazy. We are utterly alone in a crowd of poeple.

Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?

Nobody Home A hotel room full of objects and screens with no one in it. Here the wall is furnished. For ADHD and autistic people, this can look like endless scrolling, collecting, and stimulation, with plenty of dopamine but no connection. It’s a life full of things and inputs that stays empty of being known.

“Alright, I’ll take care of them part of the time, but there’s somebody else that needs taking care of in Washington”
“Who’s that?”
“Rose Pilchitt!”
“Rose Pilchitt? Who’s that?”
[Kid screams in background. foreground: “Shut Up!”]
“36-24-36 … does that answer your question?”
[foreground: “Oi! I’ve got a little black book with me poems in!”]
“Who’s she?”
“She was ‘Miss Armoured Division’ in 1961 … “

I’ve got a little black book with my poems in.
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in.
When I’m a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in.

I got elastic bands keepin my shoes on.
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from.
I’ve got electric light.
And I’ve got second sight.
And amazing powers of observation.
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There’ll be nobody home.

I’ve got the obligatory Hendrix perm.
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt.
I’ve got nicotine stains on my fingers.
I’ve got a silver spoon on a chain.
I’ve got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains.

I’ve got wild staring eyes.
And I’ve got a strong urge to fly.
But I got nowhere to fly to.
Ooooh, Babe when I pick up the phone

“Surprise, surprise, surprise…”

There’s still nobody home.

I’ve got a pair of Gohills boots
and I got fading roots.

“Where the hell are you?”
“Over 47 german planes were destroyed with the loss of only 15 of our own aircraft”
“Where the hell are you Simon?”
[Machine gun sound, followed by plane crashing]

Vera Longing for a comfort that was promised and never delivered. Many of us grew up believing that belonging was coming, a school, a job, a person who would finally get us. We hold that hope long past the point where evidence supports it.

Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn?
Remember how she said that
We would meet again
Some sunny day?
Vera! Vera!
What has become of you?
Does anybody else here
Feel the way I do?

Bring the Boys Back Home A demand that those in charge take responsibility for the people they’ve sent away. It’s the adult version of asking why the institutions we were sent through failed us: schools, workplaces, families, a mental health system that missed us for decades.

Bring the boys back home.
Bring the boys back home.
Don’t leave the children on their own, no, no.
Bring the boys back home.

“Wrong! Do it again!”
“Time to go!”
[knock, knock, knock, knock]
“Are you feeling okay?”
“There’s a man answering, but he keeps hanging up!”

Is there anybody out there?

Comfortably Numb The center of the album, and the most literal parallel. Pink is exhausted and can’t perform, so a doctor gives him something to get him through the show. He feels alive for a moment, then further from himself than before.

That’s the substance story for so many of us. The bar wasn’t chosen for fun. Alcohol, cannabis, stimulants, whatever we found, we used it to quiet a nervous system that never stopped, to make the mask easier to hold, or to feel something for a night. Autistic and ADHD people use substances at higher rates than average, and the reason is often self-medication: it works, briefly, on exactly the things nobody was treating. We took the pin-prick because it kept us going for the show, and it cost us the parts of ourselves we were trying to protect.

Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on, now,
I hear you’re feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I’ll need some information first.
Just the basic facts.
Can you show me where it hurts?

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying.
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I’ve got that feeling once again
I can’t explain you would not understand
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

O.K.
Just a little pinprick.
There’ll be no more aaaaaaaaah!
But you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?
I do believe it’s woring, good.
That’ll keep you going through the show
Come on it’s time to go.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying.
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.

The Show Must Go On The audience needs us, so we perform. Work, family, social obligations, the persona all keep running. The exhaustion that follows a good day of masking is invisible to others, who only see the performance.

Ooooh, Ma, Oooh Pa
Must the show go on?
Ooooh, Pa. Take me home
Ooooh, Ma. Let me go

There must be some mistake
I didnt mean to let them
Take away my soul.
Am I too old, is it too late?

Ooooh, Ma, Ooooh Pa,
Where has the feeling gone?
Ooooh, Ma, Ooooh Pa,
Will I remember the songs?
The show must go on.

In the Flesh The high tips into grandiosity. The substance, the adrenaline, or the deadline rush makes us feel capable of anything, and we overcommit and overpromise. The louder we get, the more disconnected we are, and it feels like power until it doesn’t.

So ya
Thought ya
Might like to
Go to the show.
To feel that warm thrill of confusion,
That space cadet glow.
I’ve got some bad news for you sunshine,
Pink isn’t well, he stayed back at the hotel
And they sent us along as a surrogate band
We’re gonna find out where you folks really stand.

Are there any queers in the theater tonight?
Get them up against the wall!
There’s one in the spotlight, he don’t look right to me,
Get him up against the wall!
That one looks Jewish!
And that one’s a coon!
Who let all of this riff-raff into the room?
There’s one smoking a joint,
And another with spots!
If I had my way,
I’d have all of you shot!

Run Like Hell Panic drives the pace. Adrenaline gets mistaken for energy, and we chase the next deadline or emergency because urgency is the only thing that reliably focuses us. It burns hot and leaves us wrecked.

“Pink Floyd, Pink Floyd”

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run,
Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run.
You better make your face up in
Your favorite disguise.
With your button down lips and your
Roller blind eyes.
With your empty smile
And your hungry heart.
Feel the bile rising from your guilty past.
With your nerves in tatters
When the conchshell shatters
And the hammers batter
Down the door.
You’d better run.

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run,
Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run.
You better sleep all day
And run all night.
Keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside.
And if you’re taking your girlfriend
Out tonight
You’d better park the car
Well out of sight.
Cause if they catch you in the back seat
Trying to pick her locks,
They’re gonna send you back to mother
In a cardboard box.
You better run.

“Hey, open up! HaHaHaHaHaaaaaaaaaa!”
“Hammer, Hammer”

Waiting for the Worms The peak of the delusion, where the crowd and the persona merge and we’re furthest from who we are. It’s the point where control feels total and the self is least present, and it’s where the crash is built.

Ein, zwei, drei, alle!”

Ooooh, you cannot reach me now
Ooooh, no matter how you try
Goodbye, cruel world, it’s over
Walk on by.

Sitting in a bunker here behind my wall
Waiting for the worms to come.
In perfect isolation here behind my wall
Waiting for the worms to come.

We’re {waiting to succeed} and going to convene outside Brixton
Town Hall where we’re going to be…

Waiting to cut out the deadwood.
Waiting to clean up the city.
Waiting to follow the worms.
Waiting to put on a black shirt.
Waiting to weed out the weaklings.
Waiting to smash in their windows
And kick in their doors.
Waiting for the final solution
To strengthen the strain.
Waiting to follow the worms.
Waiting to turn on the showers
And fire the ovens.
Waiting for the queers and the coons
and the reds and the jews.
Waiting to follow the worms.

Would you like to see Britannia
Rule again, my friend?
All you have to do is follow the worms.
Would you like to send our colored cousins
Home again, my friend?
All you need to do is follow the worms.

“The Worms will convene outside Brixton Bus Station.
We’ll be moving along at about 12 o’clock down Stockwell Road
twelve minutes to three we’ll be moving along Lambeth Road towards Vauxhall Bridge.
Now when we get to the other side of Vauxhall Bridge we’re in
Westminster {Borough } area. It’s quite possible we may encounter
some {…..} by the way we go. {… ..}.”

Stop The first honest moment in a long time. Something in us says we can’t do this anymore. It’s often a crash, a loss, or simply exhaustion, but it’s also where recovery begins, because it’s the first time we admit that the show isn’t sustainable.

Stop!
I wanna go home
Take off this uniform
And leave the show.
But I’m waiting in this cell
Because I have to know.
Have I been guilty all this time?

The Trial We convene the court, and the evidence is every voice that ever called us too much. Then we add our own. The sentence is to tear everything down, and shame is the judge. But shame demolishes instead of building, and without a plan the wall goes back up.

Good morning, Worm your honor.
The crown will plainly show
The prisoner who now stands before you
Was caught red-handed showing feelings
Showing feelings of an almost human nature;
This will not do.
Call the schoolmaster!

I always said he’d come to no good
In the end your honor.
If they’d let me have my way I could
Have flayed him into shape.
But my hands were tied,
The bleeding hearts and artists
Let him get away with murder.
Let me hammer him today?

Crazy,
Toys in the attic I am crazy,
Truly gone fishing.
They must have taken my marbles away.
Crazy, toys in the attic he is crazy.

You little shit you’re in it now,
I hope they throw away the key.
You should have talked to me more often
Than you did, but no! You had to go
Your own way, have you broken any
Homes up lately?
Just five minutes, Worm your honor,
Him and Me, alone.

Baaaaaaaaaabe!
Come to mother baby, let me hold you
In my arms.
M’lud I never wanted him to
Get in any trouble.
Why’d he ever have to leave me?
Worm, your honor, let me take him home.

Crazy,
Over the rainbow, I am crazy,
Bars in the window.
There must have been a door there in the wall
When I came in.
Crazy, over the rainbow, he is crazy.

The evidence before the court is
Incontrivertable, there’s no need for
The jury to retire.
In all my years of judging
I have never heard before
Of someone more deserving
Of the full penaltie of law.
The way you made them suffer,
Your exquisite wife and mother,
Fills me with the urge to defecate!

“Hey Judge! Shit on him!”

But, my friend, you have revealed your
Deepest fear,
I sentence you to be exposed before
Your peers.
Tear down the wall!

Outside the Wall What waits afterward is quiet and uncertain. It suggests there might be people out there who’d notice if we fell. The ending loops back to the beginning, because the cycle repeats unless something changes.

All alone, or in two’s,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.

And when they’ve given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it’s not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger’s wall.”Isn’t this where….”

What the map shows

1. The wall isn’t built in a day. It’s small, ordinary hurts that add up over decades.
2. The wall works, which is the trap. It protects us, so we keep it.
3. The pin-prick works too. That’s why it’s so hard to leave. It buys brief relief and takes our access to ourselves in exchange.
4. We don’t need to demolish the wall. Tearing it down in a rage or a trial just sends us back to building.
5. We need a door. One we open on purpose, for people who’ve shown they can see us, at a pace we control.

The most basic brick in the foundation of our American society is that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are the self-evident, inalienable rights of every human being.

What does self-evident mean? It means that these rights are known to be true and do not have to be proven. Inalienable means that they cannot be taken away but human laws.

There are more self-evident, inalienable rights that we enjoy as humnas, but let’s focus on the three that are laid out in the Declaration of Independence, the document that defined the foundation for our United States.

I’m going to start with Liberty. 

Claude responded: Liberty is the state of being free — from external control, oppression, or unjust restriction — to live, think, speak, and act according to your own will, with…

Liberty is the state of being free — from external control, oppression, or unjust restriction — to live, think, speak, and act according to your own will, within limits that protect the same freedom for others.

It shows up in a few overlapping ways:

Personal liberty — freedom over your own body, mind, and choices. The idea that you are the rightful author of your own life.

Political liberty — freedom from tyrannical government; the right to participate in the rules that govern you.

Civil liberty — specific protected freedoms like speech, religion, assembly, and due process.

Philosophical liberty — sometimes called free will; the question of whether humans genuinely have the capacity to choose, or whether choice is an illusion.

The classic tension in the concept: your liberty ends where mine begins. Almost every political and ethical debate about freedom is really a debate about where that line gets drawn.

Think about which of these types inalienable rights you actually enjoy. I would argue that overtime, the government has eroded all of these the inalienable rights to liberty and have acted against the declarations that our founding fathers wrote.

We tell women what ‘decisions’ she can make about her body. We incarcerate people who have darker skin colors, often without due process or probably cause. We punish those who express unpopular opinions. We ruin the lives of those who don’t vote the way we want them to. We have been brainwashed into thinking we have free will and choices when all of the choices we make end up being the ones that power and greed want us to make.

Note that I say We. We are responsible for this. Even if you are one of those people that have voted against the things that have destroyed our foundation, it’s still the collective We that did this to oursevles. We have to take responsibility in order to fix this. If we don’t take responsibility, no one will.

Now let’s talk about life. Every human has the inalienable right to life. That’s a pretty easy concept to accept (for most, I’m leaving the mentally ill ideas of master race creation, mass genocide, and war out of the equation for the. moment)

So if we have the right to life, how can we put a condition of being able to pay for it? Stay with me, it sounds like a stretch, I know. The concept of money is not natural, it is a construct of man to solve the problem of the equitable distribution of resources, although it certainly does not do a good job of it. The ‘cost of living’ concept really was designed for comparison purposes of geographical areas, but when you boil it down, there really is a cost of living in our society. It costs money to get food. It costs money to get heat and air. Water costs money, medical attention costs money, clothing costs money. There is a minimum amount of money that is needed in order for a human to keep living. This is the cost of living, to have life. Remember life? That inalienable, self-evident right that we all have?

Given this line of reason, every human in the United States has the self-evident, inalienable right to have life and everything that supports it – including food, water, medical care, clothing, heat or air. This is supposed to be a basic tenant our of society.

Resources should be shared with all. We are at a point where a small number of people control all of the resources and there is no way they could use them all even if they tried. Until everyone has the right to the basic necessities that sustain life, the rich must be taxed.

Today I had an MRI. Because of this, I had to remove all of my body piercings. Cheer to myself I have forced lost a part of each of those person that came out so my goal today after the MRI was to find new jewelry to replace the jewelry that I had lost. I just discovered rediscovered a place that I found several years ago when I was here and they came through with the missing pieces that I needed.

after visiting the shop I was walking down sixth street and decided to stop and have a drink at a bar. There were three guys at the bar all talking and laughing over drinks and after a few minutes, the conversation got pretty interesting. Evidently one of the guys was gay and had been trying to pick up the two other guys who are straight when they have discovered what the situation was.

They all decided to sit down and have a drink and talk so the conversation went on and included lots of questions from the straight guys and lots of explanations from the Gay guy about his his marriage and grinder and other interesting gay cultural things that you straight men might not know the two straight guys were super interested in hearing what he had to say, and we’re very engaging and completely respectful and it was a really beautiful thing to see three people two different cultures and a major connection happened.

The conversation went on for like two hours, and although I was only meant to be there for a few minutes, I stayed and listen because it was super beautiful to see the human connection, especially when the people connecting were not necessarily in the same world.

This is what we’re missing in our world today. if people took a moment, maybe got away from their phones and had a conversation with somebody- especially if they were different than themselves – the world would be a better place. It’s this kind of connection that fosters understanding and ultimately peace.

I spend a lot of time talking about poor customer service experiences. It’s time that I highlight the opposite.

Zoho calls itself the ‘Operating System for Business’ and it lives up to it.

In short, I love Zoho. I love Zoho so much that I want to marry Zoho. Ok, maybe I went a little far, but I would certainly shack up with Zoho if I had the opportunity to.

What is Zoho you ask? It’d be easier to answer with what Zoho isn’t. It is everything a small business needs to operate smoothly AND a bag of chips. It does your laundry and even cleans the windows.

In all seriousness, Zoho is a suite of business applications that can do pretty much anything. For example:

• Zoho CRM – their flagship product. Customer Relationship Management at its best. It gives you that 360º view of your customer that you need in order to maintain that competitive advantage. If you know your customer, you can take actions on that knoweldge and that is what makes customers loyal. More on this later.
• Zoho Billing – handles subscriptions, invoices and other billing needs. Fully featured with classy email notifications. Integrates with Stripe, Paypal, authorize.net, their own payment solution and others. Set it and forget it, except to watch the recurring revenue flow in.
• Zoho Desk – Help desk ticketing system. Fully configuarable, multi-branded, white labeled, includes a customer help center with forums and a knowledgebase and can integrate with a million different channels like whatsapp, facebook, sms, telephony – you name it.
• Zoho Survey – allows you to create engaging surveys to keep up with customers feelings and needs.
• Zoho Forms – build super complex forms with workflows that will blow your mind.
• Zoho Flow – this is the their no-code integration platform. Have your receptionist integrate notifications from your bug tracking software to your slack during lunch – it’s that easy.
• Zoho Mail – a fully featured mail client
• ZeptoMail – a transactional email system
• Zoho SalesIQ – Sales chat, visitor tracking
• Zoho Sign – e-signatures with approval workflows
• Zoho Bookings – automated appointment setting
• Zoho Calendar – what it sounds like 🙂

I could go on typing for days and wouldn’t be able to complete the list. But I really have digressed. This is supposed to be a discussion about customer service.

Zoho has AMAZING customer service. Different plans have different options, and I would highly reccomend their premium support. You can chat right in the app you are woking in, email a dedication team, call on the phone, use their community forums or open a ticket on their support site. They always respond quickly and it’s clear that their agents have been trained well.