"Once a Woman, always a Woman."
For all my existence, I have always lived under this decree. The origin of its usage remains unsure—it could have been the Great Circular Priest Pythagoras or the Ancient Mathematician Euclides who first uttered these words. No matter. The fact remains that we as Women, as Straight Lines, are subjects under the rule of Men with little hopes of societal advancement. Although I am the Wife of a Circular Priest, this title offers only a modicum of relief from the inevitable degradation of my gender. In the eyes of Men, I am no better than the lowly Isosceles Triangles or the most irregular of Polygons.
Simply put, the Laws of Evolution do not apply to us. "Once a Woman, always a Woman." And as Women, we must suffer under the mercy of Men. We exist solely for reproduction and for the pleasure of Men. For their benefit and protection from invisible attacks, we must always be seen, always be accompanied in public, always cry out that humiliating Peace Cry, and always sway our backs according to the latest fashion. Many a times I have withdrawn to my own department tired and sore; my voice hoarse and cracking from calling "Peace! Peace! Peace!" all day long and my back aching from that dreadful back motion. It is a miserable life especially for a Woman like me who associates with high class society. More is expected for a Woman in my position. There is no room for carelessness or dissension. Setting an example for all other aspiring Wives of Polygons, I must uphold to the latest trends in back motion and have perfect etiquette. Failure to do so may result in death, execution, or imprisonment.
Perhaps death is better than life and ignominy preferable to esteemed reputation. I have entertained this thought on many occasions for I actually envy the lowly Wives of Isosceles Triangles. Faced with little societal expectations and bounded by looser restrictions, they are freer to do as they please. (Note: I do not say "free" because no Woman is truly free in this dimension.) They need not restrain their emotions in fear of offending their Husbands, for their Husbands are Men of little tact and regard for etiquette. I envy their lack of attention to back motion fashions. I have even heard rumors of Women dominating over the household in Isosceles families, but they may simply be just what they are—rumors.
I digress. Let me explain my true reasons for writing in this journal today. Exactly 27 days ago, I stumbled across some new legislation that my high and mighty Circular Husband carelessly left on the table. Ha! That fool is still under the impression that his dear old Wife cannot read and write. Women are not as ignorant as Men think. If only Men would open their eyes and see through the fog, they would discover our capacity for knowledge. Degree of angle has little to do with acuity.
The legislation I held before me initially enraged my whole being as it called for more restrictions on the rights of Women, but these preliminary emotions soon morphed into curious speculation and excitement. Let me relate its words to you. It read, "A new curfew for Women shall be issued starting on the 4th of March in the year 2013. Any Women found outside the home after noon, accompanied by a male or not, shall be imprisoned and questioned for revolutionary activities. If found guilty under oath, the penalty shall be death."
Revolutionary activities? These words caught my eye. To my knowledge, I knew not of any instances outside the norm, but the idea excited me beyond measure. As a young girl, I secretly harbored the wish for a rebellion against the Order of Men and for a new realm where Women would be regarded as equals to Men. I never once thought this was possible until now.
After perusing through the legislation once more, I immediately rushed to the Ladies of the High Court to join them for a midday brunch. I was eager to share my news with them to see if they had heard of any rumors concerning the matter. The gossipy bunch instantly confirmed my suspicions.
Oh glorious day! A revolution is brewing. It first started among the Wives of the Isosceles and now is spreading through the classes like wildfire. The frustrations of Women are mounting. Emotions run high, and passions that the Men futilely try to suppress are stirring. I sense it: an era of change. Every day brings new reports of deaths and female retaliation against the laws. We no longer cry, "Peace! Peace! Peace!"
Tonight it begins. I write this journal so that in case we may fail, there may be a record of our efforts that I hope will inspire future Daughters of Flatland. "Once a Woman, always a Woman." Let these detested words of Men ignite passions within you my dear Sisters. Fear not death but rather an eternity of darkness and suppression. Time is running out, and my service is now due. These are my last words and instructions: as the clock strikes twelve tonight, turn your back to your Husband and under the cloak of invisibility, stab. Good night and best of luck.