i-miss-you-guys!

OOC

Sorry guys. College is getting tough and i had a damn 20 page paper due ((in a nursing class, along with 10 other classes needing caught up)) within this week and im off to the Renaissance Fair again this weekend, and leave tomorrow, so i HAD to finish it today two days early >< So now im here for a little bit, replying to things and reblogging a few things. Im so sorry, just know i miss you guys so much and will leave replies and try to sneak on Friday through Sunday between the fair and driving :)

I wonder what you do on your day off. You have mentioned it to me more than once and you seem to look forward to it.
I wonder if you go visit your parents.
Or do you go see old friends?
Go shopping or maybe go to the gym.
Maybe you stay home and relax.
I wonder what’s your favorite color.
What kind of movies you like.
I know you like classical music.
Are you close to your family?
I want to know these things about you. I want to know everything about you.
I wish a was a person you wanted to tell all these things to.
Go for it

1. The meaning behind my URL

2. A picture of me

3. Why I love my bestfriend

4. Last time I cried and why

5. Piercings I have

6. Favorite Band

7. Biggest turn off(s)

8. Top 5 (insert subject)

9. Tattoos I want

10. Biggest turn on(s)

11. Age

12. Ideas of a perfect date

13. Life goal(s)

14. Piercings I want

15. Relationship status

16. Favorite movie

17. A fact about my life

18. Phobia

19. Middle name

20. Anything you want to ask

okay but let’s say “women can be sexist!” okay fine sure. so a woman is sexist, she says, “i hate men,” you say, “fuck off lady,” go home kinda hurt that she’s mean. the next day you will interact with plenty of women who aren’t sexist. that one woman becomes a story you tell your buddies and everyone laughs. your life doesn’t change.

this is the reverse of how women live. at every interaction, our bodies are ready to flinch. when a man says, “i hate women,” most of us don’t say, “fuck off,” we feel our hearts beat faster and our hands tremble. we go home panicked. happy to be in one piece. happy we made it out of there. we don’t talk about you. you are not the first person to disrespect us, and you won’t be the last. you are the scar every single one of us carries. the next day, all but a few of the men we talk to will carry your face: our boss who constantly checks out his secretary, the man in the cubicle next to us who is always making sex jokes and saying, “what’s wrong sweetie?” when we ask for help, the man down the hall who likes to put cups on his chest and sing out “oh no i broke a nail!” and toss his hair and show that female is stupid and clumsy and everyone always laughs but the air in our lungs is so tight we can’t swallow it.

let’s say some women are sexist. she yelled at you for holding the door open. she told you men are babies. she made a post on the internet saying “even if some of us might be, we are nowhere near as dangerous to you as you are to us”. she is one out of sixteen hundred.

let’s say some men really are nice guys. he doesn’t get angry if you snap at small things. he doesn’t call you hysterical if you start crying. he is constantly unlearning everything sexist that has been taught to him. he knows that a post which hurts his feelings won’t ever equate to someone following him home. he is one out of sixteen hundred.

men say, “i’m not a sexist, i married a woman.” men say, “i’m just playing devil’s advocate.” men say, “you don’t get how bad rejection is.” men say, “i’m not one of them, i’m a nice guy and if you let me fuck you, you’d know it.”

women say, “i hate men.”

men say, “its not my fault the system is like this. and besides, we have problems too.”

women say, “please, i just want to walk down the street without being worried what you will do”

men say, “if you want equal, can i punch you?”

—  I’m sorry if you were ever hurt by something someone angry said. It doesn’t mean you have any idea what it’s like to live like this. You cannot equate a rotten apple in a bushel to a swarm of wasps, one of which might be a pacifist.  // r.i.d
I edit the look of my blog whenever you edit my feelings.