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Does it really matter if your cage is solid gold when you aren’t allowed to leave it? A cage is a cage, no matter how gilded.
But memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap. They fight, and we inexplicably lose. Memory and time. Always losing one as you go on with the other.
It’s the arrogance of men, to think so little of women. And it’ll be their downfall too.
Men making deals on the behalf of women never seems to go very well for the women.
Why am I so cursed to endure the greed of men?
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