Men Are From Mars, Persimmons Are From Japan.

Each and every girl thinks she is the first to invent rebellion, the first anarchist Eve. She is the first to force open a basement window with a crowbar, the first to act for the superlative language of attachment. She is the first to hold up the tissue of intentions up to the light and to her scrutiny. She is the first to have her hair cut with sheep’s shears, the first to rip out a page from a library book, the first to preserve an opium addiction gracefully.

Each and every girl believes she is the ultimate authority. She controls the three feet of space in front, behind, and to all sides of her! She makes all definitions in the fortress of her head, all the signs in the hooker of her body!

Each and every girl has a paprika-colored, octopus ink-staining heart and an eventual pap smear. She is neotenic, retaining juvenile characteristics in adulthood, choosing to metamorphose long after the arrival of her teeth. She is a carcinogenic, releasing spores into the air, be they poisonous, be they benign.

Each and every girl may never necessarily put away childish things. Sometimes she continues making and imposing her definitions on anyone who will listen, and a few who will not. Eventually, however, she will begin checking the gas in the middle of the night, learning to accommodate definitions of cruelty, space that is not her own, language of ripping and knuckle dusters and feather dusters. In turn, they will learn to accommodate her.


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