Here's to you who I have widely seen regarded as strong, credible and resourceful. It's in moments like these - implicit, well-concealed glimpses of your fragility, that I feel there is room for mine. But there has always been room enough - it is more a reason that you exist the way you do - it is your social presentation, the appeal that accompanies your manly stride, so endearing as to fetch you such admiration. Evidence lies in the fact that you attract greater credibility than is warranted by your actions, that remain undistinguished from anyone else's.
And yet, I would not dare deduct any of it, given the power.
It was in my years of systemic growth that I came to embody, quite unwittingly, this aura of perceived strength. The kind of strength I learned to believe I had all through my childhood, owing to the discernment of my guardians.
Patterns are not easy to break, and this was one of them. Lacking a voice among my subordinates publicly as I did, it was subsequently an inference on my part that fragility and vulnerability were as well, to be silenced, shut down - that these were the sort of emotions you and your peers were granted the access to expressing, but no, not I. Not I with my flaws so evident, so inexpressibly profound.
Of the source of this behaviour pattern, though I knew, I could not at the time, and I struggle to still, suggest a reason, a remedy. Precisely why social acceptability and its affable privileges appeared to me to be virtues of such hard-earned labour, I have no answer to. Perhaps it was misplaced pride, just impishly disguised as an incomplete childhood.
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The frivolity on my mind
Non-FictionEmploying an occasional sarcastic tone, here is an attempt at capturing emotions (in the form of letters, addressed to or about (in)tangible entities)) that have so often been the subject of my ponderances, because nothing weighing me down should be...
