In an era where inclusivity is heralded as a cornerstone of progressive society, it’s worth pausing to ask: 

Do we really need to categorize our experience of sex into classes? 

Do you really need to share what you like to find under your sheets?

The push for inclusivity, while often framed as a noble pursuit of equality and acceptance, may inadvertently be fostering a new kind of conformity.

The modern narrative around inclusivity often centers on creating categories - labels for gender, sexuality, and identity - that aim to ensure everyone feels seen and acknowledged. 

We are not frameworks and statistic can’t describe us at all.

True inclusivity should not require individuals to squeeze their lived experiences into neatly defined boxes but should instead allow for the messiness and individuality of human existence.

Moreover, the global push for inclusivity is often framed as a pathway to peace and unity. 

A mature stance on global peace would prioritize mutual respect for individual differences over the creation of new social norms that demand conformity under the guise of acceptance.

Above all, no one can think otherwise or abstain. You have to be measurable and recognizable.

What could happen if you are not in a socially approved box? 

The goal should be, individuals are free to define themselves, or not, on their own terms. 

The truly difference should be if I like cats or snakes, jazz or techno. 

It could be more introspective than describe what type of sex class I’m in. Above all I don’t want to speak about my sexuality, but I do have a cat and I like neither techno or jazz.

In any case, I am an omnivore, Catholic, technology and style addicted, with a touch of food slavery — I’m Italian after all. 

I know that if you break the spaghetti into 2 it's because you don't know how to roll them and not because you like them short.