Her hands were dirty, her clothes mussed, her countenance plain and without any adornment. Her home was full of broken things, mismatched furniture, chipped and peeling paint. Her life was much the same. The people who saw her judged her and excluded her. The people she saw she judged and she excluded them. It left her without much hope for change and very alone. In pots, flaking and damaged, there were red geraniums, carefully tended to. Amidst the squalor and terribly sad conditions, there was some part of this young woman crying out for beauty.
She had a beautiful home. Every spot perfectly designed, every item in place. Her clothes were at the peak of fashion, moving with the seasons. Her life appeared much the same. The people who saw her judged her and included her to maintain their political status. The people she saw she judged for their lack of decorum and her rampant paranoia that they do not really care about her. She was surrounded by beauty and crying out for true friendship.
She was the ungraceful misfit. She was always seemed to trip over her own feet, said the wrong things, and never knew which fork she was supposed to use. She wanted to please so badly that people took advantage. Then in a fit of anger and the abuse, others would shun her. The people who saw her judged her for her awkwardness and discomfort. The people she saw she judged for how she thought they perceived and used her. She was surrounded with discomfort and crying out for an elegant dignity.
She was the graceful one, the one full of talent. She could seem to do anything with ease and confidence. Inside, she felt completely unsure and checked and rechecked her stage presence of life to make sure that the character she was playing was maintained. The people who saw her judged her for her seeming stress-fee and laissez faire life. The people she saw she judged for how she perceived herself, not for how they saw her. She was capable and polished and crying out for reality.
She was a young woman in a book, a story character, or is she?
No comments:
Post a Comment