I’ve slowly come to realise aha
Eureka! That I’m not as nice a person as you’d
think I am if you met me. That I have claws. That I can be rude if I want to,
and so often I want to, and I do. Sometimes subtly, sometimes elegantly, and
more often than not, whatever. Whatever works. And that I don’t particularly care what you
think of me. Maybe there was a veneer before. Maybe there wasn’t. I don’t even
know what set off this ramble. Maybe the viral thing shut off the politer part
of my brain. Or maybe the antibiotic and all the hot water, yes? Maybe its just
the weather. Maybe this is, but this is true.
Hidden in the deep stack of n'papers perused: Begum Samru. What a tale.
AND, the Garden of fools.