Showing posts with label TOTD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TOTD. Show all posts

fri ni rant

When I commit my first murder, the victim will be someone who invited me to do something at the beginning of the week, but then when the time came to get together said, "Okay so what do you feel like doing?"

Oh hell no.

If it was YOUR idea to get together, it falls on YOU to know what you want to do.

Hate. That. Shit.


Don't support me just because I am a woman. That is some of the most patronizing bullshit you can slow down my growth with.

Support me when and if I do good work. When and if I contribute something of value. When and if I make a positive difference. When and if I show integrity.

And when I don't, call me out. Criticize and question me. Don't pull punches because I'm a woman. That tells me I need a handicap. That I deserve charity. That I should be treated differently than a man. And that's the very opposite of what any of us should be working towards.

Support me when and if I am a person deserving of support.

lion and bear

Her: It's like if they put a lion and a bear together in the zoo. They'd probably get along and even enjoy one another, but sooner or later the lion would wish the bear was a lion, and the bear would wish the lion was a bear.

We're a lion and a bear.

Him: Well I guess that makes me a bear who loves lions.


I'm fascinated by dark emotion. By the heavy feelings we are taught to suppress - to contain and manage. Anger, fear, envy, shame, hatred. We police these impulses strictly, whipping them like lion tamers, convincing ourselves that we're in control. But they remain wild and, to some degree, intractable. And I think there's a kind of honesty that comes along with their release. That honesty is what interests me.

If some of my posts seem a little weird, that's probably where I'm at: in the folded-over space between propriety and positivity. It's pure and it's intriguing, and sometimes I get sick of pretending it doesn't exist.

do not read

Anger is a little red book that, no matter how many times I tuck it away on the highest shelf, I find in my back pocket the next day. Whether I open it or not doesn't matter; I know the story by heart anyway.