Somewhere it reads that it doesn’t matter what someone else has done, how someone else has lived until you succeed at doing and living that. Another person writes that everyone must have the freedom to be limited by his own mind as you have. The even-handedness of the notion of freedom is quite relatable. It’s like writing as it invariably births you, the one who can achieve independence from any kind of mental slavery. You’re your sage, your whore, your God and Goddess, your husband, your wife, your father and mother. You might get the privilege to get to know those who have risen long ago from any spurious moral superiority, who have seen humanity shrieking and gashing.
To cite an example, we don’t know if Bhondita has encountered domestic violence, whether her husband beat her or there is something more but you find her running a crusade against her mother-in-law behind her back. But you know she needed to be heard and understood. Yet, contrary to your estimation, it may not be the case. In another example, once I heard the lachrymose pleading of a teenage girl and I conveyed it to her mother. That was my only crime, though opinions may vary. That doesn’t imply that I didn’t nurse the spiteful attitudes towards paedophiles. I always did. In fact, I believed that if as the sister of a paedophile, I can go this far to support such a terrible crime, such life is a burden, a curse to the humanity. I could have shown some grace. However, when you are crushed underneath the heavy baggage of a multitude of complexes, whether it is your looks or anything else, it gets difficult to attain such feat. You can stick your head into anything and try to milk as much as you can. And while it may surprise many, in such atmosphere you may resolve to make a call, to show how potty mouth you are. What else can we do bar laughing after coming to term with your or your video’s, your thought level?
So many girls or even women in their thirties, forties relish catcalling just like budding breasts of teenage girls like fondling.
There are truths we often ignore like a paedophile can easily tear the fall of a vagrant bird(s). We understand that the support for abuse or the support for opinion are two completely different things. We understand that in this kind of environment such practices are not only bearable but common, they are exercised frequently and received in glowing terms. It flies in the face of empathy, compassion and humanity but I watch it now and again. Maybe, that’s how you pave the path for mediocrity. As it turns out, excellence is not hegemony, at least for me.
There are many instances when an abused sister is either doubted for he ability to iron her clothes and hauled over the coals or suchlike and later she is littered with more crass personification.
There are several things or people we grow apart and it hardly matters who is marrying to which idea or values. You just celebrate what you do rather than awaiting the legions of admirers and it all takes place inside your head. You do whatever it takes, what needs to be done and love the space around you. If it still stifles, we must tweak it to our own wellness.