in dishabille

 
January Snow... instead of a January Tan.

I would love to hold key to the invention of that phrase, but I do not. It was uttered by someone I care very much for, and now used in a manner and means I'd venture to think wasn't quite intended.

We are Humans Being Human. We work in much the same way as a virus does. We assimilate what we can, be it malicious or not, in the hopes of making what or who we encounter... something like Us. Something familiar. Something we understand and feel comfortable around.

It is the grand history of breath and the great conquest of our Kind.

If you're built like me, and I know you are, you will more than likely go out of your way to accommodate others when it comes to their accepting you. You'll likely find a way to weave a little bit of you into a little bit of them in the hopes that the bolt of thread you envision will matter more than it does not. That is the ultimate goal, as it were. That is what most of us strive for. To be accepted, embraced, divided & woven into the fold. Protected in that fabric. Safe.

Your Father has always been terrible at that.

I see the world through twilight eyes. I see division where I should see unity. I see individuals when I should see groups. I see persons when I should see people.

I see when I should not.

Or so I was always told...

January Snow covers a January Tan and leave's it in dishabille.

See that.