taste the taste of women
taste the tastes of women… interesting thought that just crossed my mind.
there is really just a very thin layer that separates between virtuosity and shamelessness. two sides of the same coin. but that ain’t something infinitely women, men do have that inclination as well.
i don’t know whether it’s a boon or curse on my part. but whence in my adolescence, i already made a promise to myself. other men may fall easily enamoured with the beauty of a woman’s face and body, but i will not.
then over the past 1 year or so… well, this actually began july 2006 to the present date. i began to develop this perception that women ain’t really mysterious at all. one of the allures of a woman is her mysterious nature, so says some dead men. but the more i grew acquainted with women, the more i felt that women don’t need to be loved or liked because they’re mysterious.
’stead, respecting a woman is much more important. treating her as a human bein’. someone with some decency and self-worth. that, i think is much more important.
and i ain’t just sayin’ this for the sake of gainin’ favor from the women kind. ain’t necessary, and don’t need that at all.
i’m sayin’ this from my own experiences. limited my experiences may be, but much much more then when i began to take this steps back in that argumentatively fateful July of 2006.
whether she is a famous professional, a middle-manager, a poor fella’, a child, a masseuse, or even a prostitute, an individual woman deserves at least a descent recognition and respect. what a woman may do or may not do, she has her own reason/s. same like just about anybody else, including men.
think you that most, if not all, woman that sells her body for a man’s brief moment of pleasure is really proud of what she’s doin’? you take that lens away for a moment, you see her as a human being, as an individual, as someone else’s sister and daughter, maybe someone else’s mother and lover.
life can be biatch as it is already, so why make things worse for ‘em. some or many men treat a woman that trades her body for money as a thing, an object. nothing more. a whim for man’s lusts. these men are demaning not women, not men, but they demean the essence of the very existence of being born as a human being, and as an individual.
my heart bleeds and cries often enough as it is.
on my part, i do what i can do.
one moment at a time.
what basic decency, what basic self-respect and self-worth that a woman i encounter deserves, i acknowledge. that’s the very least i can do. that’s where i begin.
at times i wish i have a great amount of money, or a great amount of power. a semi-god, perhaps. i could provide safe homes, some jobs and trainings. food and clothing. education and care. simple stuffs that broken children, men and women, could definitely benefit from.
mind u me that i ain’t interested in rehabilitation.
options. have knowledge that there are other options. another chance. an opportunity. to lead a life knowing full well his/her basic rights for freedom and happiness.
i do what i can. in my own way. small little acts that hopefully touch a scarred soul here and there along the way. to let that individual realize, that there is a light in that long, dark, and cold tunnel s/he has been walking for quite a while.
i ain’t no saint. i ain’t no great hero. i am a simple person, doing simple things. i start from the small things in life.
