Is it Stupidity or simply Sophistry?

Is it Stupidity or simply Sophistry?
I wrote a piece in simple, clear, direct English, free of the ornate, florid, convoluted, intricate expressions and advanced vocabulary. I shared it with a vixen whom I thought intelligent. Her feedback was so way off the mark that I refused to answer. I wonder if her strange comment was a product of stupidity or sophistry. Pride is always with me. It never left. It is all I have left.

Anyway, I look outside my window, elephant grass stretches for miles from the foothills to the horizon. They have been here for millions of years, changing colors and heights in accordance with the rainfall. Somewhere close by, a dog is barking weakly in the midst of the midday sun. Why I am the way I am? She said No. As I clicked off the phone, a nauseating feeling was washing over me. I will be okay. This, too, shall pass. I sometimes wonder if she really understands what I am trying to tell her. It could be that language, no matter how I try to be articulate, cannot express the music of meaning. 

I am telling you all this in order to hold the demon of memories at bay. My mind, I believe, is still cold and clear. It's itching to be cruel, but I am telling it No. I look outside the window again. Shimmering heat waves are dancing atop the swaying elephant grass. 

I am back to the book I am reading. It's about memories and regrets and years of saddling up and riding away into the night of tears and sorrows. I know that much about her. But she never knows that about me. Neither does she know I am walking away from her. She actually thinks the opposite. My mind is not that easy to understand, but fools and simpletons claim to possess a window into my soul. 

Afternoon is now drawing to an end. The air changes. There's now moisture. Winds pick up. Dark clouds are gathering. Then it happens. The sky splits and spills. Rain. Rain. Rain. Water is coming down from the sky like there's no end of supply. I go outside, with only my shorts on. I feel cool and refreshed. I feel the stresses and sorrows being strained away from me, but not the sins. The sins stay for me to deal with. I don't believe in baptism or redemption. I believe in taking responsibility for one's actions. I also believe in memories. I am now back in time, 54-56 years ago, playing in the rain, in the streets of my neighborhood, with a bunch of friends. How carefree and happy I was. I had a good childhood. My life has gone downhill in terms of happiness since my adolescence. That was when I discovered responsibility and love. I have had no problems with responsibility, but love's tentacles have had a hold on me, even to this day. And I am now 62 years of age. In all fairness, without love coiling around my neck and in my soul, I wouldn't be bothered to work on my physique and my mind. Yesterday, as I pumped iron, I actually felt my strength coming back. For some brief moments, I felt like I was in my late 20's, brimming with vitality and rugged lust. Later, as I looked at my bulging tummy in the locker room mirror, I made a mental note that the bulginess must disappear. 

I am going to live my life like a sunflower in the sun: big, blooming, full of fragrance and nectar, attracting all kinds of butterflies and bees. I am going to hang in there in the sun and throughout the night as long as I can until I buckle, blacken, and blow away in the wind.

Roberto Wissai