They Say
With the usual blind intentions, the words flow from their beautiful lips, with their hands on their hips, ‘you had better watch him’. The thing is happiness, notwithstanding, the committed direction is strictly forbidden- no matter what.
Your life is no longer yours and the committee only cares about one aspect of the relationship – their friend’s. The gravity of death can suck the life from you, pressing your soul through the concrete for rich soil, just you stay committed. If it appears that you are not, the alarm bell goes up, and the slavery service is threatened. Now there is cause to stir about, shout, “Girl, you better watch him”, but when it’s not clear she tells you that “they say I better watch you”.
Now, old things become new, the job of spouse is remembered, because there is happiness about ‘they say’. ‘Girl, he moving different, and he smiling a little too much, it must be another woman’. The whispers grow, become more vigilant, but where is the evidence?
“Why is he so happy? she thinks to herself. It can’t be because of me, because I have him trained love my thoughts and tend to my needs, along the sentiments and ideals that are important to me, and I love the rhythm his life plays for me”. My life is not about us, it’s about her, and his commitment to her everlasting happiness. There is no me, not anymore, and I feel as if I cease to exist.
“Bonheur interdit”
I sit here in the dark, wondering about what my mother might say about her playboy of a son, all domesticated. Domesticated, brow beaten, and castrated amongst the task of his circumstances. Libido? What libido? He is going to the finish line, having been finished living since his commitment. What dysentery is this that means so little I say I question. However, that answer doesn’t matter? Just say it, your life doesn’t mean shit to no one, after the commitment. Fall in line with the approved happiness plan ‘they say’.