So tell me gentleman, tell me the time and place where it was easy to be a woman.
When I meet a woman whose energy falters at the first barrier,she seems to fade beside my mother.
It may be a childish torment, but we do not get to choose our demons.
The possibilities. Is there any greater pain to know what could be, and yet be powerless to make it be?
Does love always form, like a pearl, around the hardened bits of life?
How remarkable we are in our ability to hide things from ourselves - our conscious minds only a small portion of our actual minds, jellyfish floating on a vast dark sea of knowing and deciding.