Getting High on my Own Supply.
There I was, giving a presentation to a group of hyper-masculine males, more macho than I. By "hyper-masculine" I actually mean, fragile, but fronting. Not yet strong enough or knowledgeable enough to get in touch with their emotions nor safe enough to express them. Putting up walls is what keeps men safe, alive, protected, for if we all just, "let it all hang out," what would be left to hide from? After all, if all people knew all things about me, then they might.... wait. There isn't a thing you could tell me that I don't already know about myself. I know my glimpse of thoughts, my obsession, my sickest fantasies. I know the thoughts that can slip into a mind listening to another talk and allowing the grazing on "better" pastures, disconnecting from conversation. I know that when it comes to poor behaviors often demonized by society are ones that I find myself regularly thinking. When a person in authority gets "caught" for somethin...