In my short career I’ve realised two very important things.
One is that people have a morbid fascination with death.
Two, the word “vagina ” really grabs people’s attention.
In one of my previous posts I wrote about how I would personify death. I was spending a lot of time at my ouma’s retirement home at that stage and I felt like death was always hanging around in the corridors patiently waiting. Not in a bad way, as of course there is nothing unnatural about death.
That post was read by people in other countries even after I had long forgotten about it. It seems the people searching for death on Google somehow found my post. Searching for death. Now that’s a funny concept.
I recently read The Book Thief for a book club and it gave me a new understanding of its narrator, death.
Death and vaginas might have more things in common than you would expect.
Both are often misunderstood and given a bad name (like ‘doos’). Both are a little mysterious and represent some element of the unknown. Also, people don’t generally like to talk about either.
In polite conversation it is often frowned upon to talk about what you have in your underpants. But everyone has a little something-something down there, so what’s the big deal?
To liberate yourself and your genitals, I suggest you shout out the word ‘penis’, ‘vagina’ or ‘anus’ at least once a day. This way you would get use to hearing it more often, and bringing up the subject might lead to interesting results.
When the mundane patterns of life and the expectations of others start getting you down, turn that frown into a word like “vagina”, because much like death, you’re not likely to escape your genitals.