psycho-historico self-revelations
Time for another strange journey into the mind of me,
twists and convolutions to be expected.
My urge to protect the sensitive ears and minds
of my readers comes as much from my own self-judgments
as it does a shyness that sources from childhood in the woods,
nothing much to do and nobody much to do it with.
Encounters with strangers (relatives were ubiquitous,
too familiar to be real) were rare and intense with significance
and those times I engaged, enragingly dense
with a maddening mixture of implied meanings.
Dark shadows tugged at words that emerged from
the mouths of aliens called ‘Others’, who
each were linked by invisible cords to other Others,
felt but unseen. When these folk spoke,
I heard faint ringing echoes, strove diligently
to decipher their meaning and ultimately found
that in nearly all cases I guessed wrong.
I reacted with humiliated outrage,
swore off unnecessary interaction
and withdrew into my dark corner called ‘shy’
but was more properly ‘sullen’.
A certain simmering bitchiness lingers in me still,
if I would but admit it.