I have tried, once again, in concerted effort combined of all my
intelligence, intuition, commitment and other components, to find a
niche within my species.
It is impossible for me, I think.
I do not think I will try again.
I have found it the same as before. I cannot exist there. They will not
let me exist. Me, as I am. But I must give up this and this and this
essential element of me in order to be accepted into the realm and I
cannot do it. I cannot pay such a price.
The roads and ways of life are scattered with the ruins of women who
made the choice or were driven to pay the price in search of peace, of
their very existence, but so extreme a compromise left no structure to
stand. There was nothing left of them except a husk cast away and
ignored. Can they be identified? Can their skins be read?
If I become what others wish in order to obtain some companionship,
some sustenance of shared thought and desires, what will I be when
they have gone? Everyone goes away, one way or another, I have
I need a special friend, I do need that, it is a constant awareness and
the lack a pain which never lessens but my nature does forbid it. I have
discovered no other answer and no further way in all my searches.
I do not belong. I do not belong anywhere. I have no home, no place of
rest where I am known.
I am alone. I will go on alone. I will miss many things, but one cannot
experience all in a lifetime and I will retain what is essential to me
because I must. What bends me to my craft bends me away from other
things I need, much as anyone with deficits or surfeits.