The modern American society is so full of people who are so dense as to believe that when they do not discuss certain things, those things cease to exist, and that if they repeat certain lies long enough, those lies will become truths. And if they should ever happen to hear anything to suggest that their ill-founded convictions are based on nothing but social fiction, they become enormously stressed, as though some diabolical evil had been perpetuated against nature.
It is therefore the sign of a true friendship when we discuss things that we would never dare to say in public. When I just started dating my boyfriend, he always pretended to be so tightly-wrapped, and he never dared to say anything without the meticulous calculation that made all his statements completely bland, politically correct, and nauseously meaningless, but after our first night together, when I told him that I wanted him to curse me during sex, suddenly he became a totally different person. He started telling me how much he actually hated black people, how much he feared the Chinese taking over America, and how much he wanted to kill every single arab; or about how he loved having sex with me precisely because of my race which he considered to be inherently submissive and feminine, and how he felt so much more powerful when he was sexually dominating me, and that having sex with me always felt like he was taking revenge against those “rapacious chinks”, and I absolutely loved everything he said to me, because deep inside I know everything he said was true; those were the most inner secrets of his heart that he never dare to say in public, and deep inside he knew I felt the same way. It is the right of a white man to rule, and my duty to obey. Of course, no one would never dare to say those stuffs in public, even if they feel the same way as I do; rather they choose to imprison themselves, repress their true feelings, and live in utter misery and are continuously dissatisfied with themselves. It is as though that by choosing not to say those things, those things will cease to exist.
And from then on, my boyfriend and I became true friends, and even though sometimes we still bicker quite a bit, we are always honest with each other about our true feelings (though not always completely honest about our backgrounds, for example, I still don’t know who his biological mother was, and he never mentions about her), and that is the ultimate sign of a true friendship. But outside the bedroom we put on our masks and chant the slogan of equality and freedom like everyone else.
A true friendship starts when we feel comfortable enough to start saying racist stuffs to each other.