I was born to the problem
I was born to the problem:
A matriarchy full of feminists that bowed and cowtowed to the shuffle and scrape of the masculine boot, but told me I must never do the same. From the cradle I was told not to let a man define me, but taught to serve them til my food grew cold. Never let them think they have you, never sit in their chair. An endless game with the male as the opponent. It needs an opponent.
A more succinct problem:
I was never beautiful. I had fewer chips to play the odds. I learned to jump through hoops instead. I learned to search faces for one with laughing eyes. One who refuses to play by their rules. Who sees me as an equal. When he sees me, he’ll know me and everything will be well.
A larger problem:
We are a lost generation. We are isolated from each other. Our mothers taught us not to trust the other sex in the playing of the game. We live in one place and work in another. Our isolation increases. The rules of engagement foiled the playing of the game in our work space. I get older. The battle is now fought in crowded rooms where the exchange is stunted. I lose.
An unforseen problem:
I get older, the rules have changed once again. They dictate taking everything that we are, winding it down into a critical mass. A few paragraphs, to read. Because no one goes out anymore. The game is now played on the underground-the internet. I play the odds, write an ad. Titled: The Next 30 Seconds. It reads: I know that I have only the next 30 seconds for you to decide whether to answer this ad. How can anyone decide a whole lifetime of possibilities in 30 seconds? Life is an awesome thing. If I learn in the course of mine to appreciate each moment then I will die happy. As this moment hangs before you for your inspection, what are you thinking? Will you answer? Did I say something that reached you deep at the heart of what you are?
I receive 100 responses. I’m very popular with accountants. I go on 30 dates. 20 of them fall in love with me on the phone. I date one for almost a year. But it never works out. Even though I increase the odds. Maybe because I increased the odds. But there had been something lurking-something fundamental. And I think: Am I subverting nature? Have our lifestyles and upbringing preverted nature so that we have difficulty coming together and staying together?
I met someone recently who was born on the same day I was, the same hour. We drink the same tea. We read the same books, we think many of the same thoughts.
And he’d always been alone. It’s what I had always rallied against. At least when there was an opponent, you weren’t alone. But maybe, the real problem is: that I am supposed to be alone. And there would be nothing left to say.
A matriarchy full of feminists that bowed and cowtowed to the shuffle and scrape of the masculine boot, but told me I must never do the same. From the cradle I was told not to let a man define me, but taught to serve them til my food grew cold. Never let them think they have you, never sit in their chair. An endless game with the male as the opponent. It needs an opponent.
A more succinct problem:
I was never beautiful. I had fewer chips to play the odds. I learned to jump through hoops instead. I learned to search faces for one with laughing eyes. One who refuses to play by their rules. Who sees me as an equal. When he sees me, he’ll know me and everything will be well.
A larger problem:
We are a lost generation. We are isolated from each other. Our mothers taught us not to trust the other sex in the playing of the game. We live in one place and work in another. Our isolation increases. The rules of engagement foiled the playing of the game in our work space. I get older. The battle is now fought in crowded rooms where the exchange is stunted. I lose.
An unforseen problem:
I get older, the rules have changed once again. They dictate taking everything that we are, winding it down into a critical mass. A few paragraphs, to read. Because no one goes out anymore. The game is now played on the underground-the internet. I play the odds, write an ad. Titled: The Next 30 Seconds. It reads: I know that I have only the next 30 seconds for you to decide whether to answer this ad. How can anyone decide a whole lifetime of possibilities in 30 seconds? Life is an awesome thing. If I learn in the course of mine to appreciate each moment then I will die happy. As this moment hangs before you for your inspection, what are you thinking? Will you answer? Did I say something that reached you deep at the heart of what you are?
I receive 100 responses. I’m very popular with accountants. I go on 30 dates. 20 of them fall in love with me on the phone. I date one for almost a year. But it never works out. Even though I increase the odds. Maybe because I increased the odds. But there had been something lurking-something fundamental. And I think: Am I subverting nature? Have our lifestyles and upbringing preverted nature so that we have difficulty coming together and staying together?
I met someone recently who was born on the same day I was, the same hour. We drink the same tea. We read the same books, we think many of the same thoughts.
And he’d always been alone. It’s what I had always rallied against. At least when there was an opponent, you weren’t alone. But maybe, the real problem is: that I am supposed to be alone. And there would be nothing left to say.
