I wrote these both in the same sitting. SOOOO, I thought I'd put them together!
Must be tough being a woman sometimes. Must be tough having people stare at you, and knowing the only thing they want is your flesh.
I knew a girl once, and she said she hated when people, mostly men, complemented her eyes.
"I don't have anything to do with my eyes," she said. "It's genetics, they were passed down to me. I want to be complemented on things I've created."
As a man, unable to fully understand how it actually feels to be a woman, the above idea is the closest I can get to figuring it out.
It makes me realize that sometimes women must feel like they live in a world where no one wants to know who they actually are, but instead, everyone just wants from them the things they had no choice in creating.
Maybe that doesn't make sense. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe anytime a man tries to describe this sort of thing it should be indecipherable - like caveman writings on a stone wall.
I'm sitting on the steps of a church right now. It's dusk. People are continually walking by, occasionally looking up, and making strange faces pointed in my direction. But I'm completely still. It took me a bit, but eventually I noticed the half of a dozen homeless people sprawled out behind me. The kind where it's obvious they're homeless.
People keep walking by, they keep making faces, and I'm surprised how comfortable I feel.