He used to say “Kick the fucking box! Kick it!!”. Maybe he still dares them to do so. I don’t know.
He never said it to me. And, had he ever said it, I would not have done so. I would not have declined out of fear. Nor would I have declined out of a healthy sense of self-preservation. No. A woman with a heart like mine would have declined out of genuine respect.
To this day I do not know exactly when I got my own. I doubt I ever will. I would like to say I care, but I don’t. If anything, my interest in the ‘when’s’ and ‘why’s’ is closer to a sense of dissociative curiosity than deep introspection.
All I know is that I have a box of my own now. I have a brand new set of shiny bars. But I have none of his ethics. Oh, I am far less noble than he is! I have tinkered with these bars in interesting ways…
Maybe a sense of ethics comes in time? There was no instruction manual. I guess I’ll find out.
Wanna play? Hmm?
KICK THE FUCKING BOX! KICK IT!! I FUCKING DARE YOU!!!!!