Do compounds and verbs melt into a runny sea of ambiguity? Are fragments of reels and jabs of jaunty whim unsaid the whispering voices in our heads?
"I’m ugly, fat, old. I’m not successful. I’m smart. I’m stupid. I’m special." I'm sending these thoughts back to the patriarchy with no return address.
You look at yourself, and realize that while you were busy entrusting the Universe with your happiness, the Universe, in all its wisdom, had been busy setting up these tests to make sure you can actually implement all that you’ve been observing along the way, and not just being theoretically ...