Image source and story of image: National Galleries of Scotland If you were to ask me, I'd tell you that I tend to say things other people dare not say. I speak my mind. I don't always coat my words with a generous dollop of ass kissing. Many people consider averted eyes, swallowed words, and sugar coating their due. Skipping this is perceived as disrespectful. It never quite got me to bite my tongue, though, even at times I perhaps should have. I was bold, arrogant, and defensive about this, as the youth often are about their immaturity. But as I entered my mid-thirties and beyond, I began noticing a disturbing pattern: a tendency to swallow my words and sugarcoat. Was this maturity? Wisdom? Or was it a desire to please? Was I tired and worn down? I sat down and looked backwards--- Russo-style , through the opposite end of the telescope---and tried to figure out if I'd ever been as bold out loud as I was in my mind. Was I? Had I been? Could I be? Should I? I believe I was...
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