Fifth... Broken up paragraph...

One day, Alma came up here with newspapers and showed me pictures of his body hanging off a tree in the woods; it took weeks for his body to be discovered. As she furiously spoke about the hell she hopes that monster is in, I sat frozen, my ribcage tightening around my lungs, prohibiting air to enter my deflated organs; my eyes burned but no tears came out…

Alma went on “He could have had info that would bring those bastards to court at least.” …

I believe that’s what hell feels like – spiritual, invisible flames burning through every atom of our immortal selves. Those flames are so much more powerful than fire; I checked. And there is no respite – no water, no ashes, nothing that can bring down the scorching. Alexander was stupid to take it so lightly. The pathetic being was as stupid about death as he was about life.

I’ve often wondered if I should tell Alma the truth; she longed for answers her whole life and perhaps it would have given her some solace, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lose her. Instead I prayed for her every day, all the time; for her and all those like her. I prayed for them more than I prayed for…

Fourth... might be provocative; depends how the conversation goes on :)

Me: “Aren’t we a feminist?”

Benjamin: “What? A man can’t be a feminist? Is that some kind of exclusive club open only to women; no men allowed?”

Me: “No, not at all. It’s just that you are the first man I’ve met who is one.”

Benjamin: “I’m starting a trend. How would you define feminism anyway?”

Me: “Good question! I’ll tell you what my favourite definition of feminism is; I read this in an article once and it’s about the first time the author heard the word feminism. She said she was at her grandma’s and they were all sitting at the dinning table having their meal, which her grandma prepared of course (plus don’t forget in those days women cooked from scratch) when ‘the’ word popped up, everyone went really quite and her grandpa looked really angry. No one said another word. After dinner her grandpa went to the living room for a nap, while her grandma started to wash the dishes a little louder then usual. That’s when she asked her grandma ‘what is feminism’, and her grandma replied ‘darling, do you remember the story I told you about how your grandpa came into my life riding a horse’, the author nodded (apparently the grandma really did meet the grandpa when he rode into their town from a battle in second world war), so her grandma continued ‘well, darling, for me, feminism is making sure he doesn’t leave my life riding me’.”

Third...

Benjamin: “What’s your opinion of them?”

Me: “Every group has all kinds of people, and from what I’ve seen, variety is even greater among the lower and upper class, as opposed to lower-middle, middle and upper-middle...”

Benjamin: “There are three middle classes?”

Me: “I have no idea, the boundaries are hardly obvious. To be perfectly honest, I felt a little pressurised to group people, but since I couldn’t figure out what makes who belong in what class, I made a system for myself.”

Benjamin: “Cool.”

Me: “I based it on my opinion of their thinking method. So, for example: Everyone asked me where I was from and there were at least three very different replies. One: ‘Where? Where’s that?’ – I labelled this ‘lower class’ because it was simple, open and honest; however it was also a bit ignorant since we were in the news all the time and they obviously didn’t bother remembering the name or looking up where the country is located. Having said this, people of all kinds of incomes and wealth replied in this manner; which to me showed that not all rich are so arrogant to claim ‘I know, I know’ especially when they don’t. Two: ‘What’s the war like?’ ...”

Benjamin: “How did you reply to that?”

Me: “At fist, I was nice enough to try and brush off the question and some took the hint while others didn’t; but later I got kind of bored so I’d just say ‘peachy’.”

Harris: “You mean to say there are times when you just don’t care?”

Me: “We all get times like that.”

Benjamin: “Harris, get off her case, the girl was a refugee in a country where your family is very important. What was your class, by the way?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Benjamin: “I bet, by your system, you were upper class?”

Me: “I had my days.”

Harris laughed (I think this was the first time I heard him laugh): “So back to ‘what was the war like’...”

Me: “That’s what I called middle class response because it showed some knowledge, but very little thought behind what they do with that knowledge. Again, people of all incomes...”

Benjamin: “Okay, okay, got that. What was the third response; the upper class?”

Me: “This is my most favourite example: ‘You are the first person I met from there. Tell me about your culture, climate, landscape, anything; but make it cool’.”

Benjamin: “Make it cool?”

Me: “That was my reply too; however the guy who asked me this, in this particular way said ‘Oh come on, every culture has weird stuff. For example, tell me about your wedding ceremonies and I’ll bet you I’ll find weird stuff right there’…”

Benjamin: “That is so true. Every culture has weird stuff.”

Me: “It can be funny; I told him about ours, and we laughed; he told me about theirs and we laughed; and yet I have no doubt we’ll both follow our culture.”

Harris: “What did he find funny about our weddings?”

Me: “I think the best part was when I told him that kids in bride’s neighbourhood will block the roads so that the bride can’t leave and the way to get them away is to throw sweets and coins away from the road.”

Harris: “I have to admit, I always thought that was stupid.”

Me: “But you are going to do it?”

Harris: “I’ll have no choice; I’ll have to pay the kids to free my bride.”

Benjamin: “What was funny about their weddings?”

Me: “The groom carries his bride across the threshold.”

Benjamin: “What if he can’t lift her up?”

Harris: “Women in UK probably lose weight before their wedding?”

Benjamin: “And don’t eat much at the wedding?!”

Harris: “Do men practice before the wedding?: My fiancé weighs 75 kilos, so far I can lift 30 kilos and I’ve got two weeks to go; COME ON!!!”

Benjamin: “There might even be a club: ‘Soon to be married to a fatty’.”

Me: “That is horrible!”

Benjamin: “What is?”

Me: “The ‘fatty’ part?”

Benjamin: “What’s wrong with fatty?”

Me: “Women don’t like to be called fatty.”

Benjamin: “Seriously?”

Me: “You haven’t heard that before?”

Benjamin: “No, I really didn’t.”

Harris: “Let’s not turn every conversation to be about women; I’d like to know more about that culture. What else can you tell me about their weddings?”

Me: “Every bride must have ‘something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue’.”

Harris: “Why?”

Me: “For good luck. It doesn’t have to be one of each; you can roll together blue, new and borrowed for example.”

Harris: “Good luck charms are another strange thing; very different from one culture to the next.”

Benjamin: “I think those are a product of a culture.”

Harris: “Why do we follow those?”

Benjamin: “I know; it doesn’t make any sense at all. We follow even ideas that we consider dumb.”

Me: “I think it’s cool that even dumb ideas live on; it just shows how desperate we, humans, are to belong, be part of something.”

Benjamin: “One of the things that’s been with men since time began, I guess.”

Harris: “But we do also like to be individual; unique, special, think for ourselves, be free.”

Me: “Sounds like ‘socialism versus capitalism’; doesn’t it?”

Benjamin: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Err…” I don’t think I intended to say this, but it was out “Well socialism has the idea that we are all one, our belonging is vital and so if you make the society as a unit happy, then each element (i.e. human) comprising that society will be happy. On the other hand, capitalism assumes we are all individuals and each individual strives alone for the maximum happiness they can achieve.”

Harris: “So, socialism sees us just as part of something, and capitalism sees us just as individuals?”

Me: “It’s not quiet that simple; there’s like a whole encyclopaedia of assumptions, but, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Second extract...

Benjamin: “Hmm… So, what’s May?”

Denis: “What would she like to be?”

Me: “A woman, please.”

Denis: “A what? I’m joking, I’m joking. But come on; that one wants me to notice her, why else would she not be dressed? You could say I’m doing her a favour; she’s putting it out there (to be picked up, obviously) and I’m responding to her call.”

Me: “I think she might be looking for a little more respect.”

Denis: “I’m showing all the respect I think she wants; or rather, the kind of respect I think she wants. Look! It’s not my fault; it’s human nature. If men didn’t get turned on by women, we’d have some serious issues. And the more I see of a woman, the more I’ll get turned on – it’s law. AND, it’s also not my fault; God created me to love ALL women; I love them all and I see that as a good thing; you can never have too much love.”

Benjamin: “Yes May, he’s always like this.”

Me: “He wasn’t like this when I met him.”

Benjamin: “Your aunt was there?”

Denis: “You kidding me? I can’t act like this around Aunt. She might look like a gentle, blonde, blue-eyed, miniature person that you just want to cuddle and carry around everywhere with you in your pocket, but my word, that woman can bite.”

Benjamin: “Your aunt is a bit zesty.”

Me: “Oh I know; I’m not surprised by that. I can’t believe how much he fears her.”

Benjamin laughed: “Only good people are not afraid of your aunt.”

Denis: “And obviously, I’m not one of those and neither was General Rivo. Oh General Rivo? You haven’t heard about him? Yes; many like to remember him as he was before Aunt shouted her head off at him. I mean it. She used phrases like: ‘Are you insane?!’, ‘What were you thinking, were you thinking at all?!’, ‘In what dimension did you think that was going to work?!’, ‘What perspective made you think that was a good idea?!’, ‘You better go out there and you better...’ It was crazy I tell ya.”

Benjamin: “And yet he still hasn’t learned that women are more than meat.”

Denis: “Well, in my defence, Aunt would never dress like that. Look! Women wanted freedom, and they got it – I say, great! Really happy they did. But stop fringing trying to take away my freedom from doing what comes naturally to me; as I said earlier, to get little love bites. Look! It’s not every woman; May I swear it’s not. Look at that woman there.”

Me: “Which one?”

Denis: “See those two girls sitting at the table in the far left corner?”

Me: “The ones wearing scarves?”

Denis: “Yes, those ones. I would NEVER think like that about one of them. It’s obvious they want different kind of respect. That one wants to be looked at, and those two would probably be happier with a glance. I would never go up to one of those girls unless I knew them; and even if I did, I would go just to pay my respects. I don’t see why I’m the bad guy. This is how I’m reading different messages that different women put out there. May, am I reading it wrong?”

Me: “I...”

Denis: “Look! He’ll call me a chauvinist, but I really don’t think I am. The way I see it, all women should be allowed to wear what they want, but like everything else, it has consequences. What do you think?”

Me: “I think you might be right.”

Benjamin: “May!”

Me: “What I mean is; I don’t like the way you talk about that woman but she might love it; that might be just the sort of thing she’s looking for. I don’t know. I’ve never worn a skirt that short.”

Denis: “And why not?”

Me: “I wouldn’t feel comfortable in it.”

Denis: “And why is that? Never mind, whatever your reason, it can not have anything to do with me, because I would never stop you. If you want to wear a skirt like that or even no skirt at all, fine by me.”

Benjamin: “What if she was your sister?”

Denis: “Well, obviously if she was my sister I wouldn’t talk about her this way. Where do you think I come from; a Greek tragedy?”

Benjamin: “Let me put it this way…

First extract...

I chose this part by closing my eyes, strolling down the document and wherever I stopped I picked a part that would make sense when read on its own. Enjoy!

Me: “Why?”

Aunt: “Why! Because, I’m supposed to be taking care of you. I’m here to be the adult, the guardian. You’ve barely returned, and suddenly, this. May, I don’t even know what to say.”

I thought she could try ‘Congratulations’, but I said: “Why are you my guardian?”

Aunt: “Because your mother asked me. I’ve disappointed her in life, I can not disappoint her in death.”

Me: “When did you disappoint her?”

Aunt: “You know.” There was silence and I honestly tried to think; it wasn’t like me to forget anything, let alone something so big. “When you were born?”

Me: “Please don’t! We’ve been through that a million times. It wasn’t your fault…”

Aunt: “I know all the things you’ll say; I’ve heard them before. But the simple truth is: I shouldn’t have left her side. It was my fault… Anyway, that’s besides the point now…”

Me: “No, that is always the point. It will always be the point until you forgive yourself. Why won’t you just forgive yourself? It was outside your control.”

Aunt: “Leaving her at a time like that was very much in my control.”

Me: “You left her only to have a shower and rest; the snowfall was not your fault, you could not have seen that. And if it wasn’t for the snow you would have been back in that hospital with time to spear. You tried so hard to be by her side, you almost killed yourself; do you understand what that means?”

Aunt: “That shower wasn’t a necessity and the rest… My sister raised me. She was my mother and my father. She never asked for so much as a ‘thank you’, except that one time, once, when she was so nervous, she just asked that I sit by her so that if something happens to her, her newborn will have a blood relative…”

Me: “Nothing happened to her and she was there to hold me when I came out into the world; so that part is fine…”

Aunt: “Forget it!”

Me: “No! I will not forget it. I will forget it only when you forgive yourself. My mother was always so very proud of you. She was always grateful to have you. I know she died in peace because she knew I’ll always have you.”

My aunt began to cry: “And do you think I’m doing her justice?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Aunt: “Hmm…”

Me: “Do you think she could do more than you’re doing? No! Exactly. I wish you didn’t worry, but worry is all you can do. That’s all she could ever do. And you are doing that very well, she’d be ever so proud.” I wanted to lighten the mood and it seemed to work.

Aunt (smiled): “I just don’t know!”

Me: “Neither do I. But aren’t you at least a little excited to see how this plays out?”