Yesterday I was given a revelation. Except that it wasn’t so much of one because when I really think about it, I already knew and have been steadily coming to this knowledge for…what?…almost eleven years now? (That is a lot of years. When did I get old enough to measure a thing by more than ten years?) But it was still a revelation. Because I haven’t thought about all of that other stuff I know about myself in a while. It’s been all about fire and monsters…I guess I never stopped trying to kill the colours, but they are persistant. They know how to come after me. They always have. Now I am reminding myself that it might look black, but close up, those feathers have an iridescent sheen.
She told me it’s because we’re so similar.
It was like being struck; I just didn’t expect it. Should have. Did not.
I’m ashamed that I forgot all that knowledge I had of what others have seen for eleven years when they look at me.
I have a fortnight for this to sink in. And then maybe I will allow myself to be taken out so that I can be torn between trying to show us as being unalike, just so she will be wrong, and in trying to be just myself and hope very much that we aren’t alike after all. (Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? …Isn’t it???)
Or maybe I shan’t worry about it at all. (Doubtful) Then in October we can all dress as a set of foolish Victorian people and betray our bad breeding by boxing in public. Because that sounds like fun. And because we’re already fond of threatening each other.
(On a scarcely related note: You would not believe how many irritable people forget they are irritated with me when they see I have a pocket watch. Apparently they are the next best thing on the list of things that will win people over, after baby animals and baby humans. It’s astonishing.)
I just don’t want to worry. But I do.
I thought I’d got away, but it seems I was mistaken.
Not that I want to jump to any conclusions, mind.
I just…I think it is still after me.