There's a lot wrapped up in Prufrock's question.
Uncertainty. Fear. Anxiety. Inferiority. Abstraction.
Nevertheless, the question flared up in my mind this evening as I sliced myself a peach from our hardware-store lug of peaches. (Why the hardware store sells the best peaches in town I don't know, but I do know that I've bought them every summer I've lived here and have yet to be disappointed.)
I'm uncertain enough these days. Fearful and anxious, too, in some ways. But I sliced my peach and am glad enough of it as a symbol of my rebellion against my own insecurity.
"Check it at the door," a friend said to me today, encouraging me to set aside my habit of stewing in self-doubt.
I'm eating my peach as I write, defying Prufock and his inhuman abstractions, and choosing instead the sweet and sticky reality of my own human self.
Do I dare?
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