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Quote by I.W. Gregorio

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I.W. Gregorio

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“She follows her nose and stands once more before the doors of a quintessential dilemma. Male or Female. Here is her paradox. A staccato voice seems to challenge her, berate her. Hombre or Mujer. Mann or Frau. Homme or Femme. Gentleman or Lady. Com on, decide. She knows them all. She is them all. Not fluid or all-encompassing, gathering the harvest of the reaping fields, but fractured and split and bleeding. Her inner core weeping out of itself. There is nothing for hermaphrodites. It's too confusing. The words rattle around in her earbones, androgynous and humming. How can she choose? She cannot choose. To choose is to sunder.”

“Maybe moving away would make him not so disorganized. (He doubted himself.) He would send pictures to his mom of his new room, showing not only his tidiness, but also his self-sufficiency and that he could make ends meet by himself. Which would surprise her, maybe even offend her; yes, she would have been wrong about him—because Randolfo could take care of himself, he thought with a sense of pride.”