Slowly, I peeled my clothes off. I don’t know why I did this. But I know that I started to enjoy the feel of the sun on my bare skin, and I began to walk naked among streets of the university and the rooms of my home, discovering paradii, theories, and paradigms as I took confidence in my exultance.
People pointed, laughed, and advised (but mostly misunderstood); my family cried, restrained me and prayed for me to keep my clothes on.
But I was intoxicated by the feel of freedom, wildness and godliness that the nakedness imparted. I couldn’t think straight.
Then, something happened again; and again, I don’t know what. But I felt the need to cover myselfand I did, crouching from bush to bush as I hurried home to request clothing.
This didn’t happen at once. The clothes confused –me—sometimes I thought, why wear another layer? It didn’t make sense. And sometimes I put my clothes on without thinking, accustomed to reality.
And now, I am fully clothed.
But sometimes, the sun still calls, and I feel the itch on my skin.
Clamor 