The Female Animal.
It’s not that I don’t understand them. Often times I understand them better than they understand themselves. It’s not even that I think there’s all that great a difference between them and us. What I don’t understand is what they want of me. Sometimes it’s just affection. The idea that somewhere someone is thinking fondly of them. Sometimes the affection must be provided with attention. Social detention. Attention retention is nothing I’m good at. I spend too much time alone I think. Too damned long buried in this damnable room with my mind my only companion. The world exterior is filled with strange and frightening wonders that more often then not demand of me more than I can provide.
The Female, as an animal, is as cruel as it is coy. As devious as it is divine. A self sufficient armor clad tank that at any moment can transform. Sinister retro-chrysalis leaving them delicate and fragile as a crystal chandelier, ever swinging o’er the head of the unwitting and unwise. Intelligent, powerful, and deadly. The ability to create life ever-balanced against a sinister entropic urge to destroy. To break the will and attention of their intended prey. The Male is ever called the hunter, but it is a fallacy engendered by the opposite gender to encourage and divide. How often I’ve seen the Female pit one Male against another as a test. How often have I seen them send their victim into the wilderness in search of food while grain stores overflow. We are the hunted, and our predator is well aware of our flaw and foible.
Which is not to say I do not respect them. I fear no man on this vast sphere. I am nonpareil in matters martial and civil against those of equal sex. I fear the Female as I fear the noose, the cage and the mob. I fear them as I fear the sub-aquatic predator that strikes without warning, devouring me in an environ foreign and cold. I fear them for their power over me. The heights to which they can raise me and the rocks against which I have been dashed. They are my impetus and my Thanatos. The breath in my lungs and the blade between my ribs.
And thus afflicted I pen this sinister essay. To what end I do not know. Perhaps simply to beg amnesty from the Female Universal. Beg for patience and understanding. A reprieve from the never ending battle. A round out of the game I am loathe to play. The desire to be treated as an equal despite my shortcomings and folly. The assumption that I speak the truth and not a pack of lies. I expect none of this, but would be a fool not to ask.
The Female, as an animal, is as cruel as it is coy. As devious as it is divine. A self sufficient armor clad tank that at any moment can transform. Sinister retro-chrysalis leaving them delicate and fragile as a crystal chandelier, ever swinging o’er the head of the unwitting and unwise. Intelligent, powerful, and deadly. The ability to create life ever-balanced against a sinister entropic urge to destroy. To break the will and attention of their intended prey. The Male is ever called the hunter, but it is a fallacy engendered by the opposite gender to encourage and divide. How often I’ve seen the Female pit one Male against another as a test. How often have I seen them send their victim into the wilderness in search of food while grain stores overflow. We are the hunted, and our predator is well aware of our flaw and foible.
Which is not to say I do not respect them. I fear no man on this vast sphere. I am nonpareil in matters martial and civil against those of equal sex. I fear the Female as I fear the noose, the cage and the mob. I fear them as I fear the sub-aquatic predator that strikes without warning, devouring me in an environ foreign and cold. I fear them for their power over me. The heights to which they can raise me and the rocks against which I have been dashed. They are my impetus and my Thanatos. The breath in my lungs and the blade between my ribs.
And thus afflicted I pen this sinister essay. To what end I do not know. Perhaps simply to beg amnesty from the Female Universal. Beg for patience and understanding. A reprieve from the never ending battle. A round out of the game I am loathe to play. The desire to be treated as an equal despite my shortcomings and folly. The assumption that I speak the truth and not a pack of lies. I expect none of this, but would be a fool not to ask.
Comments
I enjoy your writing, Jeremiah. I hope your days are laced with joy. ~tg