We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. We honed our egos on her, padded our characters with her frailty, and yawned in the fantasy of our strength.Īnd fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive we were not free, merely licensed we were not compassionate, we were polite not good, but well behaved. And she let us, and thereby deserved our contempt. Even her waking dreams we used-to silence our own nightmares. Her inarticulateness made us believe we were eloquent. Her simplicity decorated us, her guilt sanctified us, her pain made us glow with health, her awkwardness made us think we had a sense of humor. We were so beautiful when we stood astride her ugliness. All of us-all who knew her-felt so wholesome after we cleaned ourselves on her. And all of our beauty, which was hers first and which she gave to us. “All of our waste which we dumped on her and which she absorbed.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |