Did I mention, I’m one of those types?
Obviously, I’m too chicken to actually say what is really bother me, so I’m gonna poem it up with a little thing I wrote in 2008 (edited a few minutes ago).
Yeah. Poetry. I’m one of those types.
—————-
Shifting into Constant States
Driving in a car with you is not so safe as it seems
As soon as the pavement touches those wheels
A sense like blindness becomes my reality
My heart is about to overheat
While you whisper,
Sitting calmly in the passenger seat.
That road, that easy road that I could drive in my sleep
Seems a hundred times longer
A hundred times sharper than before
Next to me, you turn up the volume,
You turn up the heat
Continuing your urgent whispers into my ear.
“Faster, faster”; I recall and step onto the gas
But the fog rolls in at a thickly pace
I can’t see my future or my past.
A sudden fear strikes me
Right across my sickly and pale face,
Still without pause I increasingly accelerate
The sad thing is that you, who said
You understood everything I did,
Who would never doubt a word of mine,
Could not see my constant state
Of panic and fear;
We forgot my seatbelt was broken,
While you sat comfortably in your seat
Smug and safe from harm, except
Maybe asphyxiation from an airbag
You reached over to touch my hand,
As if your electric touch would restart my heart
And it would melt and start beating yet again.
But instead it created a pressure in my head,
Which traveled down to my foot,
Causing me to step further into the blindness.
Tell me to calm down and look at the road ahead,
I’ll scream I’m calm, I am calm! and frantically hope
You won’t dare touch me again.
Except you do. With the warmth of your palm
On my cold hardened shoulder
My mind stops and I cannot see you there
For once I’m alone, driving in my car,
At speeds so increasingly dangerous
God knows I won’t get too far.
It used to be my favorite song
The sudden music starts aloud,
When I could listen and dance along.
Swiftly I throw my arms up in the air
Swing them about like a star, shaking our my hair
Dancing to let go.
The encrusted Jeep cherokee we drive
Starts spinning out of control beneath my palms
Yet I’m still dancing in my canvas seat.
You’re connected to your chair,
Safe in your retreat and helpless
As I fly
out the windshield,
out of my very seat
But you can’t tell
What’s happened
You’ve got blood in your eyes and
Bruises forming on your chest
I want to blame it on myself
Afraid of my future, afraid of my past,
But I can’t control you and I can’t control it
I’m lying on the pavement
Not so safe as it seems
I wish that sense of blindness would become my reality.
Because while I wonder how much pain I’ve caused
I keep hoping that I’ll go quickly so
I won’t have to feel the loss.
I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but Anastasia is my “princess.” I’m not gonna say my life imitates hers, because it really doesn’t, but I definitely can understand what she’s going through. Life at a crossroads, literally in her case, in my case, less so. The little courage I have seems to dwindle as every day passes, but I do have a Pooka or two to tug at my scarf to keep me in the right direction.
(Source: freecocaine)
Via Gracie and Her Wonderland
Wow, accidentally deleted my original post. Reblogging so I can keep it in my archives.
——
As defined by urban dictionary, the friendzone is…
“When you are expected to support a girl you really like while she searches for a smarter, richer, and more handsome boyfriend. There is little you can do without feeling like a dick. All in all, one of the meanest things a girl can do, whether they mean it or not.”
and ”The perennial location of nice guys everywhere.”
Although this hypothetical situation could work both ways, friendzone is almost always applied to a man who is rejected by a woman. Therefore, there is something inherently unequal, something inherently sexist about the term “friendzone”. But what and why?
From my experience, this is what friend zone is. A “nice guy” pursues a woman, but isn’t forward with his intentions from the get-go like, say, a “jerk”. The woman is pleased to see a man who is interested in her not as a sexual object but as a human being and wishes for things to stay that way. The man is not satisfied with seeing the woman as a human being because being “expected to support a girl” is a bad deal if she’s not putting out.
Before I delve into the sociological aspects of this, I just want to point out that ”friendzone” is no more pleasant for a woman than it is a man. First, that is to say unrequited love works both ways, but the person who doesn’t return affections is considered mean only when she’s a woman. And second, what option does the woman have in a traditional “friendzone” situation? Just stop talking to a close friend to avoid “leading him on”? In high school, I found out my best friend of 2 years liked me. Having to tell him I didn’t feel the same way and being immediately ex-communicated via Facebook status (“Thanks for wasting my time”) was one of the worst things that ever happened to me. Were our two years of friendship invalid because I didn’t want anything more? Was all our time together really wasted because there was no hypothetical pay off?
Guys who do this and claim to be “nice guys” are the worst misogynists because of their sense of entitlement toward a woman. They make investments in property and expect their dividends. They are fake friends. They are selfish. And they will jump at the chance to vilify you and victimize themselves when their attempts at manipulation don’t work. Clearly, “friendzone” is the remnant of a phenomenon that has plagued women since the beginning of time: women are not independent creatures. Our love lives exist only in the context of a man’s desire. When we make independent decisions, we are subject to a host of derogatory terms. “Slut” is how we vilify a woman for exercising her right to say “yes”. “Friendzone” is how we vilify a woman for exercising her right to say “no”
I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.
I am tired of fighting with my…
(Source: community.feministing.com)
True gender equality is actually perceived as inequality. A group that is made up of 50% women is perceived as being mostly women. A situation that is perfectly equal between men and women is perceived as being biased in favor of women.
And if you don’t believe me, you’ve never been a married woman who kept her family name. I have had students hold that up as proof of my “sexism.”
My own brother told me that he could never marry a woman who kept her name because “everyone would know who ruled that relationship.” Perfect equality – my husband keeps his name and I keep mine – is held as a statement of superiority on my part.
- Lucy, When Worlds Collide: Fandom and Male Privilege. (via seaofbadstories)
I might have reblogged this already but it’s so good I don’t care.
(via stfufauxminists)
Kyriarchy in action.
(via transstingray)
Also the study where they had women and men talking in a discussion and when women spoke around 30% of the time, men perceived them as dominating the discussion. They didn’t consider it “equal” until something like 5-10% of women talking.
(via dumbthingswhitepplsay)
Voila. A beautiful example of why fighting for equality becomes a gross exaggeration in the eyes of the oppressors.
(via curiouslycool)
Also those who are perceived as women have to face this.
(via yourserenehighness)
Via EmpathiliciousSo, I’ve attempted all-nighting and I feel a bit like this. I’m starting the day out with only 2 and a half, maybe three hours of sleep. I’ve made a list, but I’m pretty sure at some point none of that is going to matter and my brain is going to melt into the fire abyss that is the universe.
…
No matter! At least I finished my essay. Hahah!
Via Empathilicious
Stages of watching (or reading) ANYTHING AWESOME
So I just haven’t watched Chronicle, but I did literally just finish reading Catching Fire, and went through the same exact stages. I think I’ve been emotionally stunned because of the book actually.
Before:
Beginning of movie:
WHY IS THIS MOVIE ALREADY SAD ;^;
Middle:
What…What…I…I don’t even…
End:
Wh…WHAT THE HELL…
After:
OH MY GOD
THAT WAS FREAKING BRILLIANT
(Source: gracie-and-her-wonderland)






