Showing posts with label circling around my brain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label circling around my brain. Show all posts
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Found on Tumblr: Inspiration to get me through my disappointment
Tl;dr - Quotes and statements about the shooting in Isla Vista
Because someone has to say it, and it has to be a man.
Just because you’ve never groped a woman, never hit a woman, would never force yourself on a woman, doesn’t absolve you of all blame and responsibility.
If, in response to this most recent shooting (or any of the counts of men brutalizing women who’ve rejected them), a boy says to you “Hey, not all guys are like that,” or “You’re generalizing men,”, you should be cautious of that person. They are saying that your fear for your life is less important to them than their need to feel distanced from the problem.
If you hear a boy sympathize with this man, this ‘nice guy’ who got rejected, if they connect with that pain and rationalize his actions, you should be more than cautious of that person. That they choose to identify with him, rather than the ‘dumb sluts’ — the very human women, the people he saw as symbols of women’s lack of self-awareness and status as sexual objects — should scare you.
If that boy, or in fact, any person, tells you that things like these are the product of mental illness, or implies that they are isolated incidents, or even that you are making something out of nothing, you should be cautious of that person. One in three women are sexually assaulted in their lifetime. The person that implies you are being hysterical or irrational does not care about your safety or your feelings. You should be scared of someone like that.
If you are a boy, and these horrible, violent things disgust you, then do something about it. If you are incredulous that a man would ever do something like this to a woman, or indeed another human person, then say something. Women feel very often that the men they love and trust don’t care to listen to things like this.
That’s very isolating. The idea that your valid fears — the things that make you nervous walking alone at night, nervous about that boy who stares at you in class, nervous about saying the wrong thing, wearing the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing that somehow justifies in the eyes of society your rape or murder — the idea that those fears, when spoken, fall on deaf ears, is terrifying.
The idea that your concerns about your safety, in both the immediate (having to buy a new drink after going to be bathroom, because someone might have dropped something in the open cup; holding your keys between your knuckles like a knife; whether to walk faster away from the cat-callers or will that egg them on, will they follow you, will they act, because you know they can overpower you) and the distant (not having the right to govern your own body; a bundle of undeveloped cells being seen as more important than your own life): the idea that those concerns are met with a shrug and a “you can’t let fear rule your life”, or “it’s getting better”, or even, “that’s just how it is” is fucking terrifying.
So if you’re a boy, and one of your female friends trusts you enough to voice these concerns, you should realize how much that means. You should use your privilege (no one can accuse you of hysteria, or being too invested in the issue) to make sure this kind of shit doesn’t get swept under the rug.
Defend your friends. Defend girls. We are afraid because we need to be afraid. It would be nice to know that our dads and brothers and friends had our backs.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
To the terribly misguided and hateful people that have written in saying that “we feminists” are using this “incident” to capitalize and further our “agenda”:
Feminists aren’t celebrating a gotcha moment, nor a we knew it all along moment.
We’re mourning.
We didn’t need another murder, another death to “know it all along”. We already knew.
And that’s the point. That’s why we fight. That’s why we refuse to remain silent. Because we know the state in which we live. We know the terror it brings and will continue to bring.
Misogyny kills. Rape culture kills. Toxic masculinity kills.
We didn’t want it to happen again. And now it has.
We don’t want to be right. There’s nothing to gain from it, only so much to lose.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Yes All Men.Because someone has to say it, and it has to be a man.
Yes. All men.
Just because you’ve never groped a woman, never hit a woman, would never force yourself on a woman, doesn’t absolve you of all blame and responsibility.
We have all at one time or another said things and done things that have contributed to a society that normalises and condones misogyny. To a society in which men believe they are entitled to women’s bodies and that when they reject us women deserve to be punished.
Whether we were young and didn’t know better and have learned and changed and consider ourselves feminists now, nothing will change until we accept that we are all culpable. Even if all we did was stand by in silence and failed to challenge the words and actions of our fellow men. It doesn’t matter how much we regret it, it doesn’t matter how we’ve changed, it doesn’t matter that our transgressions might be slight…that at least we don’t hit, or rape, or kill. All of us, every last one of us, if we truly look at ourselves and are honest, share the blame.
Nothing will ever change until we accept that we are part of the problem. So long as we continue to lay the blame at the feet of other men, not us…never us…there is no hope for the future, no hope for the next generation of men who are starting out in life with ready made excuses.
We are the reason so many women live in fear. All of us. All men.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Not All Men, But Still Too Many Men
It’s a myth. You’re entitled to nothing, and yet, ironically, you’re born with this pesky thing called privilege. And sure, someone out there is already mad I’ve invoked that word, that being a dude is hard on its own and privilege is an illusion and blah blah blah something about divorced men and prostate cancer, but just remember that the men go on dates thinking they won’t get laid, and women go on dates thinking they might get raped, punched, maybe killed. Remember that as a man you can say all kinds of shit and add “lol” at the end of it and nobody gives a shit, but as a woman anything you say might be interpreted as antagonistic and end up with rape threats or death threats. Remember that any seemingly safe space — train station, bookstore, social media, city park — is an opportunity for a man to catch a train or read a book, but is also an opportunity for a woman to be the subject of threat or sexual violence.
Remember that men get paid more, get to do more, get to be more.
I understand that as a man your initial response to women talking about misogyny, sexism, rape culture and sexual violence is to wave your hands in the air like a drowning man and cry, “Not all men! Not all men!” as if to signal yourself as someone who is not an entitled, presumptive fuck-whistle, but please believe me that interjecting yourself in that way confirms that you are. Because forcing yourself into safe spaces and unwelcome conversations makes you exactly that.
Instead of telling women that it’s not all men, show them.
Show them by listening and supporting.
Show them by cleaning the dogshit out of your ears and listening to their stories — and recognize that while no, it’s not “all men,” it’s still “way too many men.” Consider actually reading the #YesAllWomen hashtag on Twitter not to look for places to interject and defend your fellow men, but as a place to gain insight and understanding into the experiences women have. That hashtag should serve as confirmation that women very often experience the spectrum of sexism and rape culture from an all-too-early age. Recognize that just because “not all men” are gun-toting, women-hating assholes fails to diminish the fact that sexism and rape culture remain firmly entrenched and institutional within our culture.
Because if your response to the shooting is to defend men (or worse, condemn women) instead of speaking out against this type of violence and attitude, then you best check yourself.
This isn’t the time to talk about nice guys. Or friend zoning. Or men’s rights. Or rejection.
This isn’t the time to ride up as standard-bearers for the realm of menfolk.
You have privilege, so use it. You’re not a white knight, but if other men try to objectify women or talk down to them — step up or walk away. If you have a son, teach him about consent and drive home the point that the 100% of the fault in a rape case is on the rapist, not the victim. Help other men — you, your children, your friends — reach a place of empathy.
This isn’t about you. Don’t derail. Don’t pull that mansplaining bullshit.
Shut your mouth and don’t speak over them.
Open your ears and listen.
Open your eyes and see.
It’s a myth. You’re entitled to nothing, and yet, ironically, you’re born with this pesky thing called privilege. And sure, someone out there is already mad I’ve invoked that word, that being a dude is hard on its own and privilege is an illusion and blah blah blah something about divorced men and prostate cancer, but just remember that the men go on dates thinking they won’t get laid, and women go on dates thinking they might get raped, punched, maybe killed. Remember that as a man you can say all kinds of shit and add “lol” at the end of it and nobody gives a shit, but as a woman anything you say might be interpreted as antagonistic and end up with rape threats or death threats. Remember that any seemingly safe space — train station, bookstore, social media, city park — is an opportunity for a man to catch a train or read a book, but is also an opportunity for a woman to be the subject of threat or sexual violence.
Remember that men get paid more, get to do more, get to be more.
I understand that as a man your initial response to women talking about misogyny, sexism, rape culture and sexual violence is to wave your hands in the air like a drowning man and cry, “Not all men! Not all men!” as if to signal yourself as someone who is not an entitled, presumptive fuck-whistle, but please believe me that interjecting yourself in that way confirms that you are. Because forcing yourself into safe spaces and unwelcome conversations makes you exactly that.
Instead of telling women that it’s not all men, show them.
Show them by listening and supporting.
Show them by cleaning the dogshit out of your ears and listening to their stories — and recognize that while no, it’s not “all men,” it’s still “way too many men.” Consider actually reading the #YesAllWomen hashtag on Twitter not to look for places to interject and defend your fellow men, but as a place to gain insight and understanding into the experiences women have. That hashtag should serve as confirmation that women very often experience the spectrum of sexism and rape culture from an all-too-early age. Recognize that just because “not all men” are gun-toting, women-hating assholes fails to diminish the fact that sexism and rape culture remain firmly entrenched and institutional within our culture.
Because if your response to the shooting is to defend men (or worse, condemn women) instead of speaking out against this type of violence and attitude, then you best check yourself.
This isn’t the time to talk about nice guys. Or friend zoning. Or men’s rights. Or rejection.
This isn’t the time to ride up as standard-bearers for the realm of menfolk.
You have privilege, so use it. You’re not a white knight, but if other men try to objectify women or talk down to them — step up or walk away. If you have a son, teach him about consent and drive home the point that the 100% of the fault in a rape case is on the rapist, not the victim. Help other men — you, your children, your friends — reach a place of empathy.
This isn’t about you. Don’t derail. Don’t pull that mansplaining bullshit.
Shut your mouth and don’t speak over them.
Open your ears and listen.
Open your eyes and see.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
“For the countless women and girls who have come to live with harassment as a daily cost of being in public and productive while female - let alone while feminist - the tragedy at Isla Vista has been a chilling wake-up call. I know I will never be able to tell myself in quite the same way that the men who link me to two-hundred-post threads about how I ought to be raped can’t actually hurt my body, no matter how much they savage my peace of mind. We have been told for a long time that the best way to deal with this sort of harassment and violence is to laugh it off. Women and girls and queer people have been told that online misogynists pose no real threat, even when they’re sharing intimate guides to how to destroy a woman’s self-esteem and force her into sexual submission. Well, now we have seen what the new ideology of misogyny looks like at its most extreme. We have seen incontrovertible evidence of real people being shot and killed in the name of that ideology, by a young man barely out of childhood himself who had been seduced into a disturbing cult of woman-hatred. Elliot Rodger was a victim - but not for the reasons he believed.”
-Laurie Penny, The New Statesmen
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
If/Then/ShouldIf, in response to this most recent shooting (or any of the counts of men brutalizing women who’ve rejected them), a boy says to you “Hey, not all guys are like that,” or “You’re generalizing men,”, you should be cautious of that person. They are saying that your fear for your life is less important to them than their need to feel distanced from the problem.
If you hear a boy sympathize with this man, this ‘nice guy’ who got rejected, if they connect with that pain and rationalize his actions, you should be more than cautious of that person. That they choose to identify with him, rather than the ‘dumb sluts’ — the very human women, the people he saw as symbols of women’s lack of self-awareness and status as sexual objects — should scare you.
If that boy, or in fact, any person, tells you that things like these are the product of mental illness, or implies that they are isolated incidents, or even that you are making something out of nothing, you should be cautious of that person. One in three women are sexually assaulted in their lifetime. The person that implies you are being hysterical or irrational does not care about your safety or your feelings. You should be scared of someone like that.
If you are a boy, and these horrible, violent things disgust you, then do something about it. If you are incredulous that a man would ever do something like this to a woman, or indeed another human person, then say something. Women feel very often that the men they love and trust don’t care to listen to things like this.
That’s very isolating. The idea that your valid fears — the things that make you nervous walking alone at night, nervous about that boy who stares at you in class, nervous about saying the wrong thing, wearing the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing that somehow justifies in the eyes of society your rape or murder — the idea that those fears, when spoken, fall on deaf ears, is terrifying.
The idea that your concerns about your safety, in both the immediate (having to buy a new drink after going to be bathroom, because someone might have dropped something in the open cup; holding your keys between your knuckles like a knife; whether to walk faster away from the cat-callers or will that egg them on, will they follow you, will they act, because you know they can overpower you) and the distant (not having the right to govern your own body; a bundle of undeveloped cells being seen as more important than your own life): the idea that those concerns are met with a shrug and a “you can’t let fear rule your life”, or “it’s getting better”, or even, “that’s just how it is” is fucking terrifying.
So if you’re a boy, and one of your female friends trusts you enough to voice these concerns, you should realize how much that means. You should use your privilege (no one can accuse you of hysteria, or being too invested in the issue) to make sure this kind of shit doesn’t get swept under the rug.
Defend your friends. Defend girls. We are afraid because we need to be afraid. It would be nice to know that our dads and brothers and friends had our backs.
If someone says “not all guys are like that” — great. So help do something about the guys that are.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"You can’t fight fire with fire!!!"
I know. You fight fire with water, or with carbon dioxide foam. In either case, the substances work because they cut off the fire’s oxygen supply, and the fire suffocates, in a manner of speaking. Water does not gently soothe the fire to sleep. It strangles it, violently, usually with a loud splash, and maybe a hiss.
I do not want to fight your fire with fire, but I want to destroy it, noisily, effectively, permanently and noticeably. I want to choke the life out of it and ensure it cannot return, and I want others to follow my lead. You cannot fight hate with hate, but you have to fight hate with anger. It is only appropriate.
I know. You fight fire with water, or with carbon dioxide foam. In either case, the substances work because they cut off the fire’s oxygen supply, and the fire suffocates, in a manner of speaking. Water does not gently soothe the fire to sleep. It strangles it, violently, usually with a loud splash, and maybe a hiss.
I do not want to fight your fire with fire, but I want to destroy it, noisily, effectively, permanently and noticeably. I want to choke the life out of it and ensure it cannot return, and I want others to follow my lead. You cannot fight hate with hate, but you have to fight hate with anger. It is only appropriate.
May 23rd, 2014 is going to stay with me
I haven't posted in a really long time. I meant to keep this blog up to date, I really did. Life happens though. I'm going to try to do better. Anyway, I have been thinking long and hard the past two days about the events of Friday night in Isla Vista, Southern California. I've been thinking about all that still remains to be done in order to stop all the violence against women. I'm so frustrated, heartbroken, and truly disappointed in the world, that there is a strong possibility that when I have children, not enough will have changed, and I'll have to be afraid every time they step outside my home.
The point of this post is that six people are dead because someone set out to kill people. Before doing so, this person made a video of their intent, stating the reasons they believed they were entitled to do so. If a woman had been the murderer, having made a video before hand outlining all the reasons that she felt entitled to take someone else’s life because she wasn't happy with how she was being treated by them, there would be no question by the media and those reporting the news that it was an act of misandry.
But it wasn't a woman who committed this crime, who took peoples lives. It was a man, and that is why it’s being excused, by news reports denying that misogyny had any part, that it was a mental illness only that made this man go off the edge. This is entitlement has got to stop. Violence against women has to end, hell, violence against people period has to end. It just ends in loss of life, and it’s unnecessary.
The point of this post is that six people are dead because someone set out to kill people. Before doing so, this person made a video of their intent, stating the reasons they believed they were entitled to do so. If a woman had been the murderer, having made a video before hand outlining all the reasons that she felt entitled to take someone else’s life because she wasn't happy with how she was being treated by them, there would be no question by the media and those reporting the news that it was an act of misandry.
But it wasn't a woman who committed this crime, who took peoples lives. It was a man, and that is why it’s being excused, by news reports denying that misogyny had any part, that it was a mental illness only that made this man go off the edge. This is entitlement has got to stop. Violence against women has to end, hell, violence against people period has to end. It just ends in loss of life, and it’s unnecessary.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Found: Another Work of Art via Tumblr
you fell in love as soon as we met
but i fell for you seven days before that
i glanced at you for three seconds and you blew me away
and over six hundred thousand seconds later
when i thought i had collected my confidence
you had already initiated conversation
i had never seen such an elegant being
i was in awe in every sense of the word
i was like a puzzle just shy of one million pieces
and my train of thought was the only one missing
you fill my chest with the sweetest air i have ever felt
yet i think if you take one more breath from my lungs
they will cave and infatuate themselves with my heart
we spoke again three weeks later (i think)
nothing could have stopped the stuttering of my words
i didn't know what it was about you
maybe it was your light vanilla scent
or your vibrant smile and autumn eyes
but you were beyond captivating and gorgeous
you were mine and i was yours
this was it
i love you,
i love you,
i love you.
h.c.
I'm not sure who H.C. is, but this was too beautiful not to share.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Beyonce is the Queen
For those of you who are living under a rock (jk, jk), Beyonce released an album on December 13th at midnight, without promoting it at all. It has sold 828,773 copies worldwide in just three days, as reported by Apple, and is the number one album in 104 countries. Basically, Beyonce is the queen. No one, in my opinion, can get on her level. I obviously have bought it, as much as I'm going on about it. And I can't stop listening to it. I just love it so much, and I love her. This is quickly turning into a post about my lady crush on Beyonce, but whatever. So far, my favorites are Pretty Hurts, Partition, Flawless, and Blue. I think they're on YouTube by now, so give them a listen and let me know what you think.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Six word stories
As usual, my brain is a jumbled mess of whatever happens to be going on in my life and whatever I have experienced that day. Today, like usual, it's more poems and tidbits from Tumblr. But more specifically, six word stories that (for me at least) leave you wanting more. Here are some of my favorites.
You deserve happiness. So I left.
She chased clouds hoping for rainbows.
Laughter long ago swallowed by shadows.
Do not laugh. We need dreamers.
Smoldering ashes. You stole my fire.
at last you, will say
(maybe without speaking)
(there are mountains
inside your skull
garden and chaos, ocean
and hurricane; certain
corners of rooms, portraits
of great-grandmothers, curtains
of a particular shade;
your deserts; your private
dinosaurs; the first
woman)
all I need to know:
tell me
everything
just as it was
from the beginning.
You deserve happiness. So I left.
She chased clouds hoping for rainbows.
Laughter long ago swallowed by shadows.
Do not laugh. We need dreamers.
Smoldering ashes. You stole my fire.
(These are all from the same blog and author)
(These are just random finds on Tumblr)
I miss how you wanted me.
You are somebody. Not some body.
The people you love become ghosts.
I discovered myself while discovering you.
Someone loving you doesn't fix you.
We all die with unanswered questions.
Under your finger tips, I matter.
Eye contact: how souls catch fire.
There are no winners, only survivors.
Hearts grow heavy with the sea.
But with you, it was different.
And finally, a Margaret Atwood quote: "There are mountains inside your skull," which comes from the longer quote:
(maybe without speaking)
(there are mountains
inside your skull
garden and chaos, ocean
and hurricane; certain
corners of rooms, portraits
of great-grandmothers, curtains
of a particular shade;
your deserts; your private
dinosaurs; the first
woman)
all I need to know:
tell me
everything
just as it was
from the beginning.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Changes
On Saturday, I went to tour Castleton's campus. It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. I had decided early in this semester that I was going to transfer for next spring, but now that the time has finally arrived and I'm almost there, I'm scared. I don't know why exactly. I'm nervous to live away from home for the first time. I don't know how long it will take to become friends with my roommate. I'm not 100% sure about the food (from what they had available during lunch, or brunch as it's called on the weekend when they serve omelettes and chocolate chip pancakes at noon.) It's certainly not home cooked meals. I just suddenly unsure, but it's going to happen.
I'm confident about some things though. I'm looking forward to the new learning environment, to the teachers that I've met and all the potential courses. I'm excited about my major; Global Studies. (I'm not too thrilled with the need for 12 credits in a language alone, but there are worse things.) I get to travel abroad for a semester, it's required for a Global Studies major. I might become a journalist because of my degree, and I am just excited for my future, even though I have no idea what it will really hold. It's all unknown at this point, with a lot changes about to happen, so it's completely terrifying but amazing all at the same time.
I'm confident about some things though. I'm looking forward to the new learning environment, to the teachers that I've met and all the potential courses. I'm excited about my major; Global Studies. (I'm not too thrilled with the need for 12 credits in a language alone, but there are worse things.) I get to travel abroad for a semester, it's required for a Global Studies major. I might become a journalist because of my degree, and I am just excited for my future, even though I have no idea what it will really hold. It's all unknown at this point, with a lot changes about to happen, so it's completely terrifying but amazing all at the same time.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Long Post Alert
I've been watching Slam Poetry for the better part of the night. Here are some of my favorites.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Actively Procrastinating
I find when I am actively avoiding doing something, whether it's homework or housework or whatever else is on my list of things to do, I happen to come across the most interesting things the internet has to offer. Justina knows I have a Tumblr blog as well as this one, but for those who don't know, Tumblr is a massive blogging platform that allows people to share and reblog and post things. (I recommend it, but just know that I created my blog in August of last year and I can't remember what I used to do with all my free time before it. It's very addicting.) Anyway, some of the blogs I follow post the most amazing things, like the poem in my last post, or some of the inspirational advice I've posted in the first few weeks of this blog. Today's little gold mine is this poem, called "For Women Who Are Difficult To Love" by Warsan Shire. You can listen to it here, read by Warsan: Audio
She has a book called Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth, which I have ordered and am currently waiting for it to arrive. Some of her other poems and words of wisdom are also amazing; I'll post my favorites below.
“My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.”
“two people who were once very close can
without blame
or grand betrayal
become strangers.
perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.”
“make love
like you have no
secrets
like you’ve
never been
left
never been
hurt
like the world
don’t owe you a
single
wretched
thing.”
“Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.”
“It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.”
“the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learnt small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.”
you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn't you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can't make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.
She has a book called Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth, which I have ordered and am currently waiting for it to arrive. Some of her other poems and words of wisdom are also amazing; I'll post my favorites below.
“My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.”
“two people who were once very close can
without blame
or grand betrayal
become strangers.
perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.”
“make love
like you have no
secrets
like you’ve
never been
left
never been
hurt
like the world
don’t owe you a
single
wretched
thing.”
“Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.”
“It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.”
“the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learnt small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.”
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Persephone Lied
My mother blissing ahead of me, rosebuds rising in her footsteps,
And I skulking behind, thinking,
Oh look. She walks in beauty.
Again.
Her power could boil rivers, if she chose.
She doesn’t choose. She scatters
Heliotrope behind her.
And me, I’ve no powers. I think she’d like
A decorative daughter. A link to the humans
She feeds with her scattered wheat.
A daughter wed to a swineherd’s just the thing
To show that Demeter’s a down-to-earth
Kind of goddess.
Do you know what swineherds talk about?
Swine.
Diseases of, ways to cook;
“That ‘un’s got no milk for ‘er shoats;
Him, there, he’s got boggy trotters.”
And when he leaned in, smiling,
While we sat in a bower sagged with Mother’s honeysuckle,
When he said, “Now,
My herd’s growing and I’m thinking I could feed a wife—”
That’s when I snapped, I howled, I ran.
And when a hole opened up, a beautiful black, in all the pastels of my mother’s sowing.
Let me fix the lie: Nobody grabbed, nobody pulled.
I jumped.
I thought it was a tiny earthquake,
Thought I was killing myself,
Starting a long journey to Hades.
It was a more direct trip
Than I’d imagined—
I landed in his lap.
He just looked at me, said “Well,”
And kept driving his chariot down,
Flicked his leather reins near my face.
He did not give me flowers.
He never spoke of pigs.
Didn’t speak much at all. Just took me down in darkness
And did dark things.
I liked them.
I stumbled through his grey gardens, after,
Sore and smiling.
And the gardener said, “Little girl,
Little sunlit flower,
You belong in the world above.
Trust that they’ll come for you,
But while you wait
Don’t eat the food of the dead, for it will trap you here.”
And I said give me the fucking fruit.
But when I ate I could hear her howling,
See her spreading winter on the world.
My poor mother, who missed me after all;
My poor swineherd, starving.
Huddled up for warmth with the few he hadn’t eaten.
I spat out half the seeds.
So now I suffer through the summers,
Smile at the swineherd who tells me
Which shoat is off its feed.
Smile at my mother and walk behind her.
My powers have come to me now, and in her candy-colored wake I scatter
Sundew and flytrap, nettles and belladonna.
I smile and wait for November,
For when I come back to you.
Your clever cold hands and your hard black boots.
I don’t ask what the leather is made from.
I love, love, love this poem. I think the only one that even comes close is What Lot's Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn't A Pillar of Salt).
And I skulking behind, thinking,
Oh look. She walks in beauty.
Again.
Her power could boil rivers, if she chose.
She doesn’t choose. She scatters
Heliotrope behind her.
And me, I’ve no powers. I think she’d like
A decorative daughter. A link to the humans
She feeds with her scattered wheat.
A daughter wed to a swineherd’s just the thing
To show that Demeter’s a down-to-earth
Kind of goddess.
Do you know what swineherds talk about?
Swine.
Diseases of, ways to cook;
“That ‘un’s got no milk for ‘er shoats;
Him, there, he’s got boggy trotters.”
And when he leaned in, smiling,
While we sat in a bower sagged with Mother’s honeysuckle,
When he said, “Now,
My herd’s growing and I’m thinking I could feed a wife—”
That’s when I snapped, I howled, I ran.
And when a hole opened up, a beautiful black, in all the pastels of my mother’s sowing.
Let me fix the lie: Nobody grabbed, nobody pulled.
I jumped.
I thought it was a tiny earthquake,
Thought I was killing myself,
Starting a long journey to Hades.
It was a more direct trip
Than I’d imagined—
I landed in his lap.
He just looked at me, said “Well,”
And kept driving his chariot down,
Flicked his leather reins near my face.
He did not give me flowers.
He never spoke of pigs.
Didn’t speak much at all. Just took me down in darkness
And did dark things.
I liked them.
I stumbled through his grey gardens, after,
Sore and smiling.
And the gardener said, “Little girl,
Little sunlit flower,
You belong in the world above.
Trust that they’ll come for you,
But while you wait
Don’t eat the food of the dead, for it will trap you here.”
And I said give me the fucking fruit.
But when I ate I could hear her howling,
See her spreading winter on the world.
My poor mother, who missed me after all;
My poor swineherd, starving.
Huddled up for warmth with the few he hadn’t eaten.
I spat out half the seeds.
So now I suffer through the summers,
Smile at the swineherd who tells me
Which shoat is off its feed.
Smile at my mother and walk behind her.
My powers have come to me now, and in her candy-colored wake I scatter
Sundew and flytrap, nettles and belladonna.
I smile and wait for November,
For when I come back to you.
Your clever cold hands and your hard black boots.
I don’t ask what the leather is made from.
I don’t think I want to know.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
On Happiness
“Don’t ever put your happiness in someone else’s hands.
They’ll drop it. They’ll drop it every time.”
— Christopher Barzak
I hadn't ever thought of anything like this. (Maybe one day I'll be able to coin my own inspirational thoughts that people will blog about, or post in Facebook statuses or on Twitter, but not today.) I am the only person who is in control of my happiness, which makes sense. When I depend on others to "make" me happy, I'm usually not. I can be happy because of other people, but they don't control my happiness.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
To This Day
I first saw this video on Tumblr (thanks Justina!) a week or so ago. I've been thinking about it ever since. I've decided to share my own To This Day experience.
So as many of you know, depression took over my life my sophomore year of high school. I was still involved in many school activities though, trying to hide how this invisible disease had taken over my life. I was in Student Council, National Honor Society, I played soccer, I managed Varsity softball, and I was class secretary. As class secretary, I was just supposed to take notes and make sure everyone knew when the meetings were, but as the school year went on, I had to start taking on more and more. I was coming up with class fundraisers and designing bulletins by my self. I was organizing events like a 50/50 raffle and middle school dances and trying to organize meetings, because we had Junior Prom to start thinking of for next year. I was doing everything by myself. Every time I tried to get someone else involved or tried to get someone else's input, they'd blow me off or tell me point blank that they didn't care. So I took over completely. I had decided to make my classes problems personal. I was Atlas, holding everyone else up above me, when I let go.
I got sick the day before a scheduled movie day I had single-handedly planned. I got permission to use the schools library; I wrote, signed and addressed permission slips to parents; I got an after school bus for kids who's parents wouldn't be picking them up for free. I did everything, but by the end of that planning, I was so stressed out. Thursday afternoon, before the movie day, the softball team I managed had a game in the pouring rain and I got sick. I didn't go to school the next day. I texted, emailed, and Facebooked everyone who had "agreed" to help with the event that everything was taken care of, all they had to do was set everything up. I didn't get a reply from anyone.
I came to school on Monday and the world I had been trying to hold up for so long had crashed all around me. My "friends" were angry at me and wouldn't tell me why. I was replaced as class secretary that week, without being told there was a class meeting where the entire class would vote. Apparently, they didn't approve of me doing everything on my own and wanted me to include them. I learned a lot that year, about myself, about my classmates, and about the world. It was the first time I realized how much growing up was going to hurt.
To this day, I'm still afraid to take on too much, to really push myself to accomplish something. I'm also afraid to trust other people to help me. I'm scared that if I let people in, they'll be part of what brings me down someday.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
NaNoWriMo
So for those who might not know what that is, NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month, (November). And I just signed up. I'm excited, but also a bit apprehensive. I want to further the writing that I do in class and turn it into a novel. I have to write 50,000 words in just the month of November, so filling in the blanks from where my writing jumps from one subject to the next is what I'm going to do, since the writings I've already completed don't count. I'm hoping that by telling all of you here will keep me motivated and will make me want to write in my spare time. This project will give me something to do, something to focus my writing towards. And maybe I'll get a book out of it. Who knows, right?
Sunday, October 6, 2013
The things I find on Tumblr
This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals—sounds that say listen to this, it is important.
-Gary Provost
-Gary Provost
Friday, October 4, 2013
Found: Inspirational Advice For Writers
What nobody tells people who are beginners — and I really wish someone had told this to me … is that all of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, and it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not.
But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase. They quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story.
It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.
-Ira Glass
Monday, September 30, 2013
Neil Gaiman is quite possibly my favorite person at the moment...
...although since my favorite person at the moment is entirely dependent on my current mood, this could change later tonight or next week or whenever. I'm not too worried about it, because I think there are lots of people out there who could be even better than Neil Gaiman and I want to give those people equal amounts of dedication. But I'm getting off topic.
Neil Gaiman is probably most known for writing the graphic novel The Sandman, which was published by DC Comics, as well as his novel American Gods and Coraline, which was turned into a movie. I'm not very familiar with The Sandman or American Gods, but I read Coraline when I was in middle school, before it was turned into a movie. I see a lot of Neil Gaiman quotes on Tumblr, so I'm going to post some of them here:
Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.
Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten. (From Coraline)
I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. ... I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it. (from American Gods)
There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts. (from Fragile Things: short fictions and wonders)
All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want. But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them. (From American Gods)
You get what anybody gets - you get a lifetime. (From The Sandman)
I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.
I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something. So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life. Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it. Make your mistakes, next year and forever.
Neil Gaiman is probably most known for writing the graphic novel The Sandman, which was published by DC Comics, as well as his novel American Gods and Coraline, which was turned into a movie. I'm not very familiar with The Sandman or American Gods, but I read Coraline when I was in middle school, before it was turned into a movie. I see a lot of Neil Gaiman quotes on Tumblr, so I'm going to post some of them here:
Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.
Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten. (From Coraline)
I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. ... I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it. (from American Gods)
There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts. (from Fragile Things: short fictions and wonders)
All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want. But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them. (From American Gods)
You get what anybody gets - you get a lifetime. (From The Sandman)
I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.
I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something. So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life. Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it. Make your mistakes, next year and forever.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Stand By Me
This song has been playing in repeat all day in my head. I'm not sure how it got there originally, but it's not a bad song to have circling around my brain.
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me, oh now now stand by me. Oh stand by me, stand by me, stand by me.
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