Wondering Woman

When I was a child I wanted to be Wonder Woman, armed with bullet-repelling bracelets and the lasso of truth. How many times they would have come in handy over the years, as well as that potentially problematic invisible plane. Now, if I were to possess these things, I would turn the lasso on my own neck to discover the truth. Would I be able to speak at all? Aren’t all words lies, only approximations of reality? The bracelets would make me drunk with power if they could repel the slings, arrows and sleights of the everyday. The everyday defeats the less-than-Wonderful Woman, I guess.