She wonders which side of herself is the one that most people see. Is it the side that she cultivates in the hopes that it will mask her weaknesses? She covers her lack of cleverness with a carefully honed vocabulary and a practiced pedantic nature. She can and will point out the flaws of others in the hope that in doing so, they will not see her own. But does she even acknowledge her own? Or have they vanished underneath this misty veil of another personality that she has created?
The truth is, she has always felt stupid and dull. Her attempts at conversation fall flat, her features never even as dazzling as the proverbial girl next door. So she created another side who now has found the freedom to emerge.
Except now this other side has taken over. A savage, feminine monster of the worst sort. She forgets who she was in the first place. Was she the stupid, dull girl? Or is she this diva-like monster who is willing to tear others down so that no one else can eclipse her? Her thoughts are muddled, she forgets what it was that bothered her in the first place. What was it? That she was dull? Too nice? A nice, safe, boring girl? It actually sounds rather refreshing now that she thinks of it. That’s a girl she’d like to be friends with. If only she could remember who she was. If only she could stop seeing this negative image of herself. It has become like the negative of a photograph, what was once white is now black. Stupid is now smart, yet kindness is now evil.
She could find her way back to her true nature, if she tried (perhaps). If only she wasn’t having so much fun. (You understand.)
This post features Fair Rosamund and Eleanor by Sir Frank Cadogan Cowper