Yeah, weird that way

Seriously, it's unfortunate this never occurred to someone. I am, to someone, for some small moment in time, that white girl. I'm not complicated, with lots of my own thoughts and feelings, or even if I am, fuck it, he's not got the time to deal with that when he's got his own important message to spread, but anyway, I'm that white girl, and the older dude needs to let me know all about what I don't know. What he doesn't know is that I wasn't that white girl in my last life. In fact, when he was knee high and I was about his age, born at about the same time, I was a lot like him. They'd have stuck us next to each other in the school pictures and put us through all the same macho bullshit together as we were growing up. But that was a short life for me. Long for him, short for me. So I came back as this other person. Now I look like "that white girl" to him, and all that baggage, and all that need for him to tell me shit, and instead it's like, he should tell me some things and I can listen, and I can tell him some things and he can listen, and that's how we should be communicating. Do it better next time. Also, wtf is up with the dynamic of "I treated the women wrong and now I'm gonna confeeeeeessss" and all these women are like That's The Time... and Killing Me Softly... Is it just wonderful biology?