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Enough has been said about this, but here goes: Nothing changes. The neighbourhood uncle's eyebrows contort with displeasure at my choice of clothing, just as the pimp at the bus stop eyes my body with glee. I don't know whether to shift in discomfort or to lift my chin up in defiance. Everybody is content to grab their paycheck without an once of sincerity whereas I am torn between duty and security. Optimism fights to stay afloat as the cynic in me takes over. Again that refrain - What is the world coming to? How long can the era of selfishness last? Is this life a blessing or a curse? Am i ungrateful if I say the latter? At the back of my head, I hear the age-old accusations - that I am luckier than many. Is it defeatist to say the fate of the woman hasn't changed? No answers, and I am forced to go on. Too tired to ask the same questions over and over.