What I [l]earned in Dublin this past week

I [l]earned that I am capable of extraordinary hate.

I [l]earned that I am driven by desires still latent

and quite unusually unbidden

from my soul.

I [l]earned that beauty occupies every moment of my

waking life.

I [l]earned that beauty is a need I have: and even where

it does not exist, I fight and battle to bring it out.

I [l]earned I am neither good nor bad: just human.

I [l]earned what it was like to suffer immense rejection.

I [l]earned what it was like not to do the right things.

I finally [l]earned I am promiscuous in my needs.

I finally [l]earned it’s possible to undo a categorical assertion.

 

And now I know how much I hate my once favourite

cousin, my once favourite brother and my once

astonishingly beloved second cousin.

And whilst it ennobles me in no way, and it’s about as wrong

as I could act, that the fact of my hatred

is now so plain for all to see makes of me to myself a man

of awful imperfection: and in this, I cannot thank the

universe more.

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