Oliphant More often than not, intelligence is the elephant in the room, and it’s the size
Oliphant More often than not, intelligence is the elephant in the room, and it’s the size of it that’s the question hovering on each of our minds, trying to figure out whether my elephant is bigger than yours, and whether, should they lock tusks, mine might come out the victor. It shouldn’t matter, if this was the romantic utopia that we like to imagine the world in, ideals raining down around us in such a way as to inspire and spark the imagination, but reality is colder than that, more workmanlike in its machinations. Do I need to be smarter than you? Maybe. Far more important is that at least part of me remain in darkness, I think. That I can stand here, but half of my face is cast in shadow, and that, whether slight or great, part of me is a mystery to you. That you spend time trying to figure me out, and I spend time doing the same. Because we all want someone to understand us, but the instant we reach that understanding it takes a powerful compulsion not to feel our interest wane as if it were sand trickling through our fingers. And when everything is amplified through the lens of D/s, that mystery has to be all the more powerful, the understanding all the more complete. You see the contradiction. And it’s that that’s the real elephant in the room. Don’t look too closely, it’s awfully shy. -- source link
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