You can’t say anything anymore

You can’t say anything anymore.
Because everything hurts someone.
You can’t joke, because someone won’t laugh.
You can’t have an opinion, because someone will get offended.
You can’t even ask a question, because someone will feel “unseen.”

Everyone’s ready to be a victim.
Ready to be outraged at a moment’s notice.
Like they’re sitting with a finger on the emotional trigger, just waiting for you to say something that gives them moral leverage.
We don’t talk anymore – we hunt.

Instead of listening, we look for triggers.
Instead of understanding – screenshots.
To show that someone doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, doesn’t acknowledge, doesn’t kneel, hasn’t apologized hard enough.
We’ve replaced debate with performance condemnation.

Every word you weigh like an explosive charge.
You don’t know what’s allowed today.
You don’t know how to address people.
You don’t know what’s already banned and what’s just “controversial.”
So better not say anything.
Better stay silent.
Better agree with everything and everyone.
Because even silence today can be violence.

Sometimes you want to shout: get a fucking grip.
But you can’t.
Because someone somewhere will see it as microaggression.
Because someone else is going through something hard.
Because your language excludes.
Because your “fuck” isn’t rebellion – it’s symbolic violence.

So you sit.
Stare at the table.
And with each new linguistic correction you know that conversation is dying.
Not from anger.
From fear.