Yes, I know, you are a wonderful writer, and if one were to cut open your heart, nothing but compassion will flow out of it, not even blood – that disgusting red liquid belongs to lesser people – and if one could have access to the innermost sanctum of your unconscious mind, one would see nothing but images of beauty and tranquility. Yes, I understand, you are socially responsible, with no prejudices, you hate everything bad in this world – as well you should – and you’ve never partaken in anything remotely cruel, and if something deplorable happens in front of you, you are not the one to sit around – you jump right up and stop it from happening. You feel guilty for being male in this world, you’re ashamed of your own gender
and if you’re a woman, the strength of your heart knows no bounds, you’ve finally understood that no man can define you or your life, you know your right from your wrong, you know when to walk away
You stop in the middle of the street to pet stray dogs, you think about the planet, you don’t use plastic, or cosmetics tested on animals, you believe in an economy that benefits everyone, someday you want to buy a map without any borders, and you do what you can, oh, if only everyone were like you, the world would be a much better place, if only.
In Cambodia, in the middle of a floating village, I stood above the almost dead crocodiles in a small crocodile farm. Then bought a small little exquisite bag made from their skin.
In the popular TV series Breaking Bad, the young Jesse tells his mentor Walter that he learnt in rehab that it’s all about accepting who you are and that he accepts himself.
“And who are you?” Walter asks.
“I’m the bad guy.”