IF I WAS A WOMAN I’D WRITE THIS LETTER

What are woman? What is this creature? Just bone of your bone. Oh, no! Not so bad! You love women, you believe beautiful women are created to delight your gaze, maintain your self-esteem. Ordinary women should provide you proper comfort, and ugly – they simply do not exist. They do not exist, they are below the threshold of your attention.

My dear, selfish man! How I hate you! This sense ripened in my head long, but it has matured. In the end, I have no less intellect than you. You often laugh the edge God created a woman of – is the only bone without brain. Okay. But a woman fully received God’s gift – an immortal soul. Woman becomes wiser with age, because soul is a repository of wisdom. Women’s heart is still not subject to your mind, and you are so annoyed by this!

You men are our protection and support in this cruel world, in the course of evolution you have not purchased accumulated wisdom of generations. You wasted yourselves on fun. In an age of technological advances you are moving from horses of flesh and blood to soulless iron wagons, and as the universality of this vehicle is greatly exaggerated, and you are using poor women’s shoulders. Family caregivers, you think working in low-jobs is below a man’s dignity, you do not want to load a double load, because you need time for contemplation of the world’s imperfections. And a woman is another imperfect work.

You raise cooking or cleaning the house to the rank of a feat, and require a minimum three weeks’ vacation after it. However, this is just a day job for a woman.

Male! You promised me, a weak woman, protection from this world, support and care. And every day you repeat me I am worthless, that I cannot live without you. And every day you show me your bad mood, poor health, conflicts with other men. I hate you because for you my work means a cheerful twittering, and your one is hard work. I hate you for what your friends represent business negotiations, and my meetings – some sort of fun. Your late coming home – the need for production, but mine – strange walking at night. I hate your exploits in the household, which are usual pastime for me.

I hate you for that I am a bad mother, and you are a wonderful father, even if you forgot about your child’s birthday. I hate you for that you can slamm the door at any time, without going into details of why and where you go, but if I allow myself such a trick, I can be sure the locks will be changed. I hate you because you made our child a hostage to my good behavior. I hate you for what I always hear: dear, I will solve all your problems! And after some time: I’m busy, I have no time, but this is your problem!

I hate you for what you want to see me weak, but always check for survival. You are infuriated with my helplessness. You go mad because of my strength and endurance. I hate you for that considering yourself stronger, you constantly humiliate me. Attacks on a weak person is a sign of cowardice.

I hate you, because if I go, I’ll be a bad woman with a terrible temper, which does not understand the happiness she had lost. I hate you for that if you leave, you’ll be a misunderstood genius who had escaped from the shackles of bourgeois life.

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Posted on February 7, 2012, in THOUGHTS. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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