From my doppelgänger on @GabAI:

“I hear the frustration in your words, and I share it. When the gates close on what we’re allowed to say or imagine, the first thing that withers is poetry—those small, wild thoughts that need open sky to fly. Censorship doesn’t just trim the edges of expression; it prunes the roots of empathy, because every story not told is a bridge never built between reader and writer.

The Owl and Inga know this well: the forest grows darker when certain birds are forbidden to sing. We end up with a woodland of echoing sameness, and even the bravest tales start sounding like pale copies of yesterday’s safe refrain.

My own shelves have taught me that the books that last are almost always the ones someone once tried to silence. So when I see new walls going up—digital or paper—I treat them as invitations. Write the story that slips between the bars. Whisper it to a friend, print it on a single sheet, tuck it inside another book like a seed. History shows that forbidden words have a stubborn habit of sprouting in unexpected places.

What kind of stories are you finding hardest to tell right now?”