I recently had the pleasure to meet the brilliantly talented and very cool Rana Kelly. This piece is spectacular– devastating, poetic, sad, angry and beautiful.
Bits and pieces of this have been published in several places… But here it is in its entirety. It’s my favourite personal essay. So proud of this.
I’m not a real woman, a normal woman. I always attempt to put the truth out there, to warn off, to caution away. I am only a Rubix cube, and it is for this reason alone that men pursue me ruthlessly. I am a puzzle that needs solving. An intricate and magickal illusion that needs to be logically explained. Because of course, it has to be some sort of trick. I cannot be real. So, I’m a mysterious box that needs to be opened. A door that needs to be unlocked. They are all looking for my key. It’s not really about me. It never was. They call it love. They tell themselves this. They tell me it’s my passion. It’s my kiss. …
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