m is for man
gender essay and every sentence starts with M
Many troubles arise from my flopping around things. Mars is afflicted in my chart after all. Means I lack war and fire. Means I just kind of sigh and coo around the answer. Means I manipulate. Men eat up this lack of war and fire. Men gladly sink their teeth into any abscess. Maybe someone somewhere told them that this is what they should do. Monday because someone told them. Meatloaf because someone told them. Me since someone told them.
More than a lamb I am a small green snake or a series of frustrating questions about one. More than not I answer questions without actually giving anything. My grandma taught me how to do that. My slipper comes off in the rain. My slow blinks are as coy as a bride’s. My button falls off my blouse and rolls into the sewer. Maybe you can help me find my button. Maybe I am tactful. Much of today lacks tact. Many miss their fathers. Maple syrup makes me uninhibited by the way. Makes me take off my stockings and walk into traffic. Makes me fall asleep drooling on the wood chips.
Most people need their solid world. Many say, why don’t you have a lamp, or a chair. Maybe this is protection. Maybe not. Man tells another man that I’m an influencer for mentally ill girls. Mentally ill girls! Man tells another man that I’m working on my novel. Man says I’m an artist. Man says I’m an actress. Man squeezed my hand so hard during hand shaking that tears sprung from my eyes as if they had been waiting there. Maybe the feeling is that someone somewhere must owe me something, because there must be more than this. Make me pancakes please. Maple syrup me. Make me my medicine. Might be something good for me.
My neighbor said an untoward thing and now we are not friendly. My neighbor told a man that she made me so many matchas. Made me so many matchas and I never made her any. Malicious because she liked him and he liked me. Man was like, and poor susie made you all those matches. lol. Mornings she would just text me and ask me if I wanted one. Maybe I don’t even like matcha.
Moon is in Leo. Marigolds slowly opening across the room as I rewrite this. Maybe this is the good part. Man who wants me in Paris. Man who takes my picture. Man who wants me doing Ngöndro. Man who wants me niche. Man who wants me uptown. Mostly everyone needs a companion. Maybe most of them want me to be always near and just sit and smile pleasantly. Mostly all of them want me to make them food so that then they don’t eat it. Mostly all of them want to run towards freedom with the caveat being me watching from the doorway.
Maybe don’t come down if it’s such an imposition. Make all your time about your mission. Martyr me so you can carry on towards that grand story that I am simply too pretty to understand. Maybe some people benefit from my simplicity.
Melancholic to bring up this tale again. Man lives while girl waits. Miserable appendage. Might wait forever. Mortal urges are embarrassing. Matrimony is whoever caves first. Movies are nice but they’re too long. Malls are fun when the day won’t end. Massage improves sleep. My heart is the same heart as yours, you know. Muscles and ligaments. Mom and dad.
Maybe I feel stupid to want just like everyone else. Maybe I am too petulant to crawl for the obvious. Maybe I feel entitled to find something that goes beyond my humanness. Man seems to sneer at any promise. Modernity expects me to know better.
My question for you is the same as it was when I was 16, 17, 3, 11, 12, 21. My beating heart. My little void. My body which has a cavern built into it you know. Make me a mommy. Make more money. Make a miracle of the unmentionable. Make tremendous timeless work. Meditate. Make me into someone. Make me worthy of being someone’s someone. Magnetism. Modeling. Magical thinking. Maybe I reserve the truth for the one who is never to lie to me. Maybe what’s really stuck in there is kind of predictable, and uninteresting. Man waits for no one, obviously. Man’s whole thing is that he waits for no one.
Xo
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