It
becomes its image. It is self-acceptance. It is protective auras. As some
suffer, where others flourish, while a woman might get angry with nonchalance;
not for it hurts, but a man should care, while Love has determined her actions.
I
sit is sullenness. The air is ruminating. It is this thing with shadows.
The
essence is deliberate, while desiring kindness, like programming a damn poodle.
There is something to copious information, it forms creatures, it trains
interior. If I disdain you, or you disdain me, where actions speak that
language, then we cannot expect much from one another. We will play piano—triggering
emotions, while angry the other has not apologized. It is unfortunate, where
realities merge, insomuch, as most people would rather endure the disdain, as
opposed to submitting to mistreatment. I shy away or relocate or sit tolerating
something that cannot be negotiated.
I
was distant those months. It was something that had to desist.
If
I mate once, will I mate twice? Such a simple, unrelated question. But fewer
mates, and more happiness. If I admonish power, will power concede? But another
obvious question.
Mother
was difficulty. We see the behaviors as we sail to our islands. It is the same
shadows, the same responses, the same permeating frustration. I have a
question: If someone abused Little Jenny for twenty-eight years, only for her
to get away, with a workable understating of the situation, and she meets
another trying to treat her that way again: What will Jenny do? It is
complicated. Little Jenny might rebel, or fall into those familiar patterns, or
resist that person with her deepest self. What if it is necessary? Will the two
ever break confusion? What if I must open you in order to re-stitch you? What
if I see your suture, but it is in your best interest that I yank it open?
Should I tell you? Should I full on include you? Better yet, what if I see that
something is healing, but I feel obligated to re-confront it, for personal
reasons? We never know true motivation—it is the most confusing thing during
trial. A woman seems to cherish her children, but she drowns them, after
preparing them for death. Or a man treasures his family, has riches, a loving
wife, and he commits that gray language. Or a woman kneading and praying for a
decent gentleman, as to find one, and return to an abusive lover. We never no
intentions—so into several years debating it—and often we jump the gun.
So,
we come to something that has troubled me sense adolescence—this thing with
appropriate responses and personal behaviors. When agitated normality states
that it is irritated, where some are prone to ignore irritation, in the hope
that it will go its way—and this is normal also, to a point. Some show every
feeling they may have, unless dealing with perceived superiority, e.g., boss
figures, mother or father, or officers, even friends and those we are fighting
to win favor with. The question is this thing with compromise. The other
question has to do with appropriate tolerance. We see it play out at times,
especially, in a full nucleus home. Mother is upset. She shows it in her
behavior. Where father attempts to appease her. In this situation, the kids
might try as well. Once the situation is resolved, mother is situated, and
balance has been restored. It seems normal under these circumstances. We call
this healthy.
