I discovered something about myself last night.
And it's remarkable to me, how many people go through their lives being so ignorant about themselves. About their history, how things got to be how they are, about their bodies, how they work, and numerous other bits of information that they could set free effortlessly if they just took the time to look for them. Magical things; factual things; and, even more rarely, things that are a cross between the two.
Women, especially. Yes, especially them. Maybe men, too, but there's something about them that doesn't offer the same feel of mystery and complexity that I automatically affix to every woman I see. It seems that there is so much more hidden to us that gives the potential to go far...to go farther; farther than we're supposed to.
Before you say anything, stranger -- before you say one more thing, I'll let you know that I know. I know what you'll say. You'll say I'm biased, perhaps even to the point of sexism. You'll condemn me for sitting at the computer all day, hiding indoors, and trying (and failing) at being interesting, intelligent. That I'm a hypocrite and a pseudo-intellectual. Before you say anything, you'll know that I know all of this. And I'll have you know, dear stranger, that you can't call me liar anymore. Because I'm honest now, truthful.
My thoughts, my words may not be pure; the only purity that lies in my words is that of sincerity. And that's what counts, no matter what you try to tell me.
I am content. Thank you.