Skip to main content

::Pandoras Box::

"Pandora had a jar which she was not to open under any circumstance. Impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the jar, and all evil contained escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the jar had escaped, except for one thing which lay at the bottom, and that was Hope. "

"What is done cannot be undone." Macbeth: Shakespeare


Since the beginning of time, women have gotten a bad rap. From Adam blaming Eve for "forcing" him to bite the apple, to Pandora being blamed for all of the evil in the world, women have constantly been taking the rap for "the downfall of man."
Me, being a total expert at spinning issues like a Fox News anchor, would like to pose the question: Who is more at fault? The men who create the evil, or the women who expose it?

In 2011 the struggle continues. Pandora's box still exists, only now it is in the form of a handheld electrical device made by some assembly worker in a dirty Japanese warehouse. A man's cellphone. Wherein lies some of the Earths most evil, vulgar, sinister secrets.

It's often said that in a relationship, you should have 100% trust in the other person. To the people that say that, I challenge you to find a cell phone, and totally fight the urge to do a quick "cell scroll". Just a little peeksee. Just a little dibble dabble into the life of another person.
Even if its a total strangers cell phone, that innate nosiness. That natural urge for a little peek in someone else's secret life, is pretty hard to suppress.

Blame Pandora.

There are things that you can expect to find in a man's cell. Naked photos. Some old saved texts from ex-girlfriends. Maybe a few "I miss you" calls made on a drunken, complicated night.
And there are some things that take you completely by surprise. Especially when you do think you know someone, and trust them 100%. Especially when you were simply being "nosey" and really didnt expect to find anything.
There are some things, that you wish you hadn't seen. But can never forget.

That is the first crack in any relationship's foundation. That first questioning of trust. That first "oh shit." moment.

I'm not a mason, but I would assume there are cracks in most foundations. I think the key is that as long as they are minimal, and patched up correctly, they will still last the test of weathering, time and natural disasters. The key is to set them correctly, and not to put too many other bricks on top of the foundation until you're sure it can support the weight.

So after a long night of fighting, you think about all this. And you come to the conclusion that it was a small crack. No biggie.
But irreparable damage has already been done.
You will forever be that nosey bitch that went through my shit.
And he will forever be that asshole that's just like every other man.

The pedestals have been leveled. And you are no longer the perfect couple, in a bubble, hidden from the worlds evils.
You are now just two people trying to build something, without letting the outside temptation of the world tear you apart.

Perhaps ignorance is bliss. Or simply, a phone lock.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

::Fathers, Harems and Brown Eyes::

Ahh Fathers Day. A day to honor the wonderful men in our lives. The ones who have passed on their great legacies unto us. Given us their last names. Provided us with a roof over our head and food on the table. The ones who have sent us to therapy for our "daddy" issues. sidenote: Hello unavailable, emotionally distant, workaholic men. Please thank my Dad for making me fall for you. lol My dad was very typical. Cold. Distant. Left all the "child raising" shit to my mother. So I find it strange that he's actually had a bigger influence on who I am than she has. I find myself physically and mentally more and more like him every day that I get older. I guess when you spend your whole life trying to chase after someone's love, you get to know then on a unique level. I remember me going through his bookshelf. Reading every single book he had. Going through and stealing all his old records. Reading his old newspaper articles from the Korean War. Looking through his...

:: Real Housewives of NJ. Aka, the poor man's Sopranos ::

I'm still laughing hysterically at the Real Housewives of New Jersey. I don't even know where to begin with this group of botox overdosed butter faces. Yeah I said it. Like Butta. Maybe I'm just uncomfortable that the short "juicy" (his wifes words not mine) husband literally pays for everything in cash. Hundreds. Crisp. Like fresh out of a suitcase left in Penn Station by someone named "Left Nut Louie". Or off the back of an unidentified white van, with NY plates. Or you know...maybe it could just be fresh out a regular ole' ATM machine. Maybe he just goes and deposits his checks like everyone else. Standing in line at TD Bank. Getting a free lollypop and biscuit for the dog. I dont know. Call me crazy but I just think this dude's money is a little toooooo crispy. It literally looks like he's holding his breath at all time. And can't put his arms down. It's actually painful to watch. You just wanna grab a safety pin and pop him. And ...