pointless blog

In the 8th grade
I went to a school basketball game with some friends.
I took my jacket off because it was hot in the small gym.
I felt something snap hard against my back,
And I ignored it.

I felt it again and put my jacket back on.
And still felt it.
I realized after a moment, it was my bra strap being pulled.
I turned to my best guy friend sitting next to me to see if he was messing with me, but he was intensely into the game.

So I turned around to see a group of faces I had never seen,
laughing at me.

“Can you please stop?” I asked as polite as I could.
The boy threw his hands up in defense and I turned back around,
Only to keep feeling getting my bra strap pulled.

I told my friends I was leaving, and walked down the bleachers to a different group of friends.
I heard footsteps and then my hair was yanked /hard/
I turned around to see a girl running away,
laughing at me.

At half-time I walked back up the bleachers, to explain to some friends why I left.

“It is making me uncomfortable.”
“I do not feel safe”
“Is it my fault?”
“He’s just an asshole, right?”
I spoke unsurely of my own reality at that point.

The boy leaned over,
“Do not talk about me” he said.
“Then do not touch me.” I said back

“I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Just then, a friend who is 6'2" and 175 pounds of muscle, came over and told me to chill
“I know him, I will talk to him.” He assured me.
So off to the other side of the bleacher he went.

Absolutely nothing prepared for the events that came next.

“I could f*** her if I wanted to.”
“She can’t do anything about it.”
“She wants it.”
“Tell her not to dress that way.”
“I’ll f*** right now.”

My best guy friend lunged and was /this/ close to punching him straight in the face.

“JUST FOR THAT I WILL F*** HER RIGHT NOW.” He yelled, as he tried to grab my wrist and my best girl friend bent his fingers back /hard/

She grabbed me as I cried, and we ran out.

Flash-forward to the next day

I got called down to the office, and was told someone reported it.

I told my story, and my principal had the audacity to ask me

“Well, what were you wearing?”

—  Fuck off, I should be safe at school
Because Of Youtube...

I have my own makeup artist

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I have my own personal tour guide 

Originally posted by zozeebo

I have my own role model

Originally posted by youtube

I have my own comedians

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I have my own poet

Originally posted by crazytronnor

I have my own songwriter

Originally posted by lookingfortronler

I have my own therapist

Originally posted by i-lost-my-hat

I have my own nerd enthusiasts

Originally posted by kieranwalker

I have my own greatest love story

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and I have my own teammate

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Except here’s the thing.

They’re not my own. 

They’re ours

Because of YouTube.