January 28, 2015 § Leave a comment

I’m in awe of you also.
I could not tell you that, because I am older than you, so less pure.
Today I walked to the station with Jo(h?)n, and we talked, and I realised my shirt and my trousers and my voice. I talked too fast and I dropped the word ‘manipulate’ and I wish I hadn’t. He picked up on that and, I explained it: catholic guilt. conditioning. My parents are
The real explanation might be a sense never of having merited, always of displacement, eternal debt, fraud. How ever do we earn the beauty to which we are witness? we do not.
I wish I were 18, but with this head and not that before. Part of this mind (but I question that, unsure), and the clarity. do not revere me. I am nothing.
My body aches, my throat stings. Last night, walking, I thought about what it was to be called strong, and that there was no thing good in it. And then this afternoon about war, because Jo(h?)n talked about men and war when we talked about women and subjection. He said that men were trained not to feel, but more eloquently. The simple difference of physical strength.
I am happier than I can recall, even without an understanding of happiness


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