By the time I finish answering this question, my answer has changed already. Who am I is forever changing, always evolving, never rigid, mostly fluid, curls and uncurls all the time…
Who am I? Am I who? I who am?
The way he saw women is the way each woman wants to be seen… His work captured it all, warmth, sensuality, strength, eroticism, openness, loveliness, and beauty of a woman… His work enthralled me…
PMS can be blamed here and there, but usually PMS cannot be blamed for our reluctance to make new friends as easily as we once could…
It must have been easier to trust then as opposed to now… Less hurt… Less memories of how bad it can be between two people… Less fear to open…
Perhaps we should blame ourselves for allowing our hurts to penetrate into our goodness, and stop us from being as open as we once were…
Perhaps we are just too tired? Tired of being hurt again… this time, same as the last time, and possible same as the future time?
Perhaps that now is so much more complicated than before, and our own complexities leave no time to be available to others…
Or perhaps we simply glorify our past, and making friends back then was as hard as it is now, but we just don’t remember?
Perhaps I should just shut up….
