Why I’m cool with GRRM taking his time; today at least.

23 04 2016

I can’t kill myself until I read the last A Song of Ice and Fire books. That will probably give me another….20 years at least.





Imagine

1 12 2015

I AM SISYPHUS
(happy)

I am the sobbing determined mess
struggling up that hill
The mountain cliff
With sun, sweat, and tears in my eyes
Blindly– I push forward
Hoping to see just for an instant
The view from the top, before I fall
all….
the

way

 

back

d
o
w
n.

And try once more,

tomorrow.





Marriage Bed

7 05 2014

Through the velvet darkness
Camels and cheap beer on my tongue,
Bring me back to pain
I turn my head but you grabbed me back

 

The weight of your fat body I once loved
Now grotesque
Crushes my breath
Vice around my throat
I’m forced to swallow

 

The warm coat of black velvet washes over me
I know I’m not safe,
But here, ignorance is bliss

The struggle and agony inside my body
Lifts the curtain

 

I see my hands bound;
A knot at every eight
The dearest brown scarf
Tiny woven diamond bulls eyes
A thousand tiny eyes
Witness my torture

A thousand tiny eyes
Know the truth
No black velvet to shield them
They saw all
Every tear, every plea

 

The darkness took hold his eyes
That were once so full of life.
Making me believe in evil.

 

A thousand tiny eyes
Stare stone silent shaming
A whimper comes forth
Why are you doing this?

Because, I love you.

 





Abuse: a guide

11 12 2013

Abuse is owning some one. Abuse is doing whatever you want with some one or getting them to do it.

For this to happen here are some helpful tips:

Tear that person down constantly. Dash their hopes, belittle them, poke holes in their beliefs, tell them how their good qualities are their flaws

Then, put them on a pedestal. Tell them that their perfect, that you couldn’t live life with out them, tell them that you have all the power, that you can make any one do anything if you really wanted, all you had to do was open your legs. Tell them that you can’t help yourself around them. Tell them that they saved you.

Then, tell them that they’re too needy. Tell them that they don’t really have any friends, that their friends only hang out with them because you’re there. Tell them that you don’t even really care about those friends because you can just toy with them.  Tell them that you make all the money.

Tell them that it’s their fault that you’re peeing on their clothes, while  you were drunk. And then laugh about it later.

When they get angry tell them, remind them, that no one else would have waited as long. That you aren’t worth the wait. Remind them that all those other people would have left long before if they hadn’t gotten to fuck you. Remind them how that makes you such a good person.

The trick is to make that person an object. Strip them down till nothing exists except what you say exists. You have rolled them out, forged the cookie cutter, and pressed down. Now you have your perfectly shaped customized abuse toy.





11 12 2013

My body lies broken
The surface, cracked,

And here I am putting the pieces-
Back





Why I need Intersectional Feminism

20 11 2013

In the past few months I have been standing up for myself and what I believe. Calling people on their shit, so to speak. Namely people I interact with, online, and in life. First it was my father. Some coworkers, an old prof, and my boss.

My coworkers I just say my peace and it’s usually a short conversation where little is said beyond and little or no feather’s are really ruffled. The long email’s between my dad and old prof, have been tasking. When I confronted my boss I almost quit my job.

I need feminism because my boss doesn’t’ understand the difference between innuendo and making a rape joke. He is unwilling to admit that the sexual humor that is common in the kitchen is capable of going too far, and that making a joke about raping one of his employee’s with one of the managers is not okay. And then he proceeded to tell me that I might want to find a new job, because this may not be the best fit, because these kinds of jokes would continue and I wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. I need feminism, because I’m tired of being called a prude, or humorless after standing up and saying that rape jokes aren’t okay. Or any misogynistic jokes for that matter.

I need feminism because when I use the term rape culture my professor automatically makes claims about how this day and age is probably one of the best times for women, and one of the best countries for women. And even if that were true, which I’m not entirely sure that it is. Why stop, because things are better than elsewhere? How is that even an argument? Also just within the last year the way in which men have policed women’s bodies, and the number of times that our media and culture have promoted rape, blamed victims for ruining the lives of rapists, is extremely alarming. And while he complains that it is important to acknowledge and talk about false accusations being a real thing, as if it was the most important issue and something that happens more than rape. If false accusations were over ten percent of reported sexual assaults, then maybe. MAYBE it would be an extremely important aspect considering this day and age. But considering that false accusations are also frequently lumped in with unfounded cases I.E. cases where there isn’t enough proof to prosecute….well perhaps what is actually a false accusation should be tightly guarded, more so than having rape needed to be continuously qualified.
What it boils down to is he is equating the societal problem of false accusations with the societal problem with actual rape. They are not the same. The weight is very, very different, and the scale is tilted very much towards the amount of rape that happens.

Rape needs no qualifiers. Rape is rape. If no consent is given, then it’s rape. Grey rape, forcible rape, pedophilia, date rape. It’s rape. It’s a dehumanizing, violating, tortuous, traumatic, sexual action taken against some one that drastically alter’s that person’s life. And for my prof to call rape a hobby horse, is disgusting. Robin Thicke’s (I acknowledge that this is not the only dangerous song out there, or terrible pop song, and possibly not even the worst however, it’s popularity is alarming) case in point of rape culture. The fucking song was #1 on the billboards for something like ten weeks this summer, and is still being played on the radio. And yes, people still listen to the radio. With in the last year, alone it seems that more and more rape is becoming a group activity. (Stubenville, Hallifax,Maryville) This song and many others, as well as political figure’s comments, and comedian’s behavior point to a popular culture, a society that does not understand what rape is.  That’s why these qualifiers have been popping up rapidly.

Perhaps there is some understanding forming, since the FBI finally updated their official definition of rape, since 1927. Perhaps URC stats will be more accurate, eventually but until society and culture, come to really understand what rape is, I doubt it.  I mean, it took me a year and a half to understand what happened between me and my ex. Six months for me to understand what happened with the stranger. It has taken me three more years to realize that much of my entire sexual history was traumatizing, and coercive.   So on top of understanding what rape is, we need to understand what consent is.  We also as a society need to understand effects of trauma, and what it looks like. I’m still learning that myself.  It’s a long way. And it won’t happen all of these things, none of it will happen unless we all look to Intersectional Feminism. For it is only when justice is sought out for all of those marginalized, that peace, and real justice can be found.





It Happened

31 03 2013

Today I realized that no matter how many scenarios I come up with that start out as, “If I had just…” will change the fact that I was raped.