the life of birds

Posted: September 10th, 2010 | Author: | Filed under: Women | No Comments »

It is a short life, as it always is, when one is young and does not know yet what will come. When there have been many paths traveled it is difficult at last to set one down, but one must yet be set down. In the journey of womanhood alas to the death one must be captured with utmost certainty as to not leave any shadow of doubt cast upon the nature or character of the intended. The search for love can lead you to many places, all equally charming or alarming at best, but all unutterably disarming and engaging one in certain beliefs about the world, which is filled with so many temperaments one can hardly stop spinning for lack of romantic stability. From one love in youth, to many more brought on and cast off, there does not indeed need to be a choice made. A woman can live without a man and not be completely alone and destitute. In the history of womanhood there is always the battle with the mother of man and the battle which takes place only in the woman’s mind. She follows and goes until she can hear none other than her own voice calling her away.
Bickering and great pain is always brought about in the transition from early youth to young adulthood but finally one leaves one’s home and goes out into the world to find or chisel out her own place. A girl first tastes her first inclination towards love in her most tender years. We all have ideals and sometimes they are met and sometimes they are so completely not met that we believe we are drowning in our own disappoint, and realization of disillusionment or clarity. Through mixing with others one must find themselves at once themselves without the stain or ruin or taint of the union of an imperfect match. A love with a master will not due and it is surely so trying to find an equal that one almost deems it so completely improbably that we may at once decide it wholly unnecessary to have romantic love at all. Sure one, from time to time and with her whole heart wishes for something that could never be rightly hers, because if she had it she could not yet be herself. In all the giving up of and buying and selling of women there surely must be some women who desire first and foremost to gain back themselves in a society which always has seemed to cast them away to another family in happy union or not. We women have never been our own so it seems right that there would come along women who seek to own themselves much as a slave wishes to claim his right as a man. It seems we must, or some must turn their back on the ideal of romantic love and fall on themselves and hope to find something deeper and more rewarding certainly at times than a husband.
I was almost married once to a man who could not have me and he must have known this because he cast me off with love and regret in his eyes, a solemn tear that was shed for something that would never be. He could not own or tame this prize; she could not be the gem to view or wear out, the one to fulfill his every dream of balance between servitude and woman’s independence. When she would try to assert herself it was too wholly unyielding and uncompassionate to his feelings and when she would try to serve and shut herself away he saw it as a disgusting lack of self respect; no one likes the prey to give in and give themselves over in a committed fashion. If one is determined to be owned by someone else it doesn’t seem much like a choice but rather the giving away to someone else’s determination and he could not have that. He wanted the chase but not to win her completely; she could not serve and still be respected but she could also not serve herself and remain grateful enough to keep herself in his good graces. A bird that doesn’t know it’s caged does not fight, one who knows it is caught with no hope of escape undoubtedly succumbs to it’s captive with pity and remorse but makes herself accustomed in her cage and one who has caged herself in man’s great cavern and still sees escape as something prized doesn’t actually lock herself away at all. She flutters until her captive can’t hold her any longer for his fear she will one day strike at him and he truly wants to see her fly and not be responsible for killing such a beautiful bird and possibly killing himself at her wing. Regardless I got away with bitter sweet agony at first. It was not so much I gave up.
You are subconsciously or consciously taught to find your best opportunity with a man. Find the man who can support you, love you, grow old by your side and make this life just so with color and shine or the bleak hope of having enough food and money to raise children, to pass the torch. Find someone who can take care of you because it is so utterly difficult to take care of yourself and after all you don’t want to die alone now do you? Who wants a childless life with burden and hardship? They say nothing can give you what love or stability can give you. So when you are taught to take a man because it is good for your future it kills something, because inside you question why you are doing it.
Surely she must have loved him once, but as he became uglier and uglier and her determination stuck it was then just a matter of winning; she did not want to lose. By god she picked her path and wanted none to deter her but alas the weak minded boy and his strong minded parents were the winners of this battle. There was something wrong with him; they thought how could she really love him, why did she come back to him after all this time, why doesn’t she strike out on her own? She must be seeking the easy path, preying on our young mentally inept boy, who is after all ours and ours alone. A baby in birth and a baby to the last but they did not know the devil can wear the face of a baby. His mask was so complete that even she was fooled. He said, let me take you away from your life and make you my bride where I swear we can do anything together for this must be your dream because it must be every little girl’s dream. I went in love; I stayed in love; I committed in love; I fought in love for what I thought was right. The only problem was I saw him for what he was, a lying conniving fool sucking his mommy’s silver spoon to the grave, wanting me to fit in just so, fake the smile just right; I would have been willing to smile sincerely if only it had been a happy home but his parent’s were against it and his determination and will was not strong enough to keep a steady mind against their own conniving nature. Anyways she was spat out. She was tried on for size and spat out because she could not forget herself, she held on all too dearly.



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