Acclimatization

Acclimatization is a serious matter. I mean one cannot keep bouncing around a kaleidoscopic chameleon-like center can one? Therefore I have almost absolved myself from causing all that emotional mayhem that a youthful spirit engages upon not having yet acclimatized itself to whom I was, or to what I would become. Was it my fault that all those ‘soon to be’ lovers bought a copy of me, an unedited work in progress? Most who waded in the ankle-deep shallows of those earlier days were but rough drafts, early editions of what they eventually turn into. The maxim: “they know not what they do” has to apply or we would never arrive at that stage of namely and to wit, that stabilized imperfection most achieve. Though I do pity the girls who bought that knock-off copy of me, the women who were scammed by a none-copyright version of myself, but to be fair, they also were none-acclimatized and should have saw the dire warning: caveat emptor.