Fear is synonymous with desperation, the desperation of wanting to live and not be threatened. To have a fence around one's self and warn off any intruders. Yet in the effort of keeping ourselves safe, there is another impetus driving us away from this fence. And so the circle of one's barrier gradually expands, and we don't care if it eats into another person's space. We simply want to have a space that can shelter the fragile and vulnerable heart. It is, at heart, the issue of one's security. Had one been more secure of the dangers lying around, there isn't a need to cover up; the trap is well recognised.
But to get trapped in someone else's skin defeats the purpose of going out and facing life - the playground. But not just any playground. It's a place for the strong-willed and bold-minded. If the outer layer of one's self is strong enough, there wouldn't be a need to have another barricade of fences; fence them with one's own weak and feeble heart. Only then can we learn, and know what to learn. For learning itself is not enough. It's more important to know what to learn, and learn to know.
So let the fear inside come out and play with the dangers from the outside world. Let them mix around and get to know eah other. Perhaps then can we recognise who's the enemy and who's the friend. Though in such a joyous and playful time, who can tell the difference between the two?
I think a man is more afraid than a woman. He has got more balls to play with, and juggling them all isn't easy. Look at the women, and what they have to carry. What the men have are peanuts compared to theirs.
I think that's why men gave women the "easier" tasks to do: raise children, give children, wash the dishes, and other household chores while they go out and provide the bread and butter (only bread and butter?). They are afraid of losing. Let's face it: how different can a woman be from a man?
She has got more (than just the bread and butter to worry about). And more power to control the men. And when they use this natural ability of theirs, men who fell prey by such beauty and charm call them femme-fatales: the bringer of death. It is, in my opinion, a form of fence to fence off insults from the masculine counterparts. One which has the potential to threaten their bond of homosocialship. It is stemmed from a fear of being overthrown. So, to put up their status they have to bring the other one down. "Put up" cannot be more apt; for it speaks of the front, a facade, to have on. Having the best face forward and surging in-front, leading the packs behind, like a hero, a saviour. It can also be said to be an "act".
Nothing shines better than the damask of dismasked truth.