i don’t think so. but, i forgive you, girl, who tallied stretch marks into reasons why no one should get close. i forgive you, silly girl, sweet breath, decent by default. i forgive you for being afraid. did everything betray you? even the rain you love so much made rust out of your jewellery? i forgive you, soft spoken girl speaking with fake brash voice, fooling no one. i see you, tender even on your hardest days. i forgive you, waiting for him to call, i forgive you, the diets and the cruel friends. especially for that one time you said ‘i fucking give up on love, it’s not worth it, i’d rather be alone forever’. you were just pretending, weren’t you? i know you didn’t mean that. your body, your mouth, your heart, made specifically for loving. sometimes the things we love, will kill us, but weren’t we dying anyway? i forgive you for being something that will eventually die. perishable goods, fading out slowly, little human, i wouldn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist.
If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me what I wanted to do with my life, I could pay for a tattoo across my forehead that said, “None of your fucking business.”
Things I Do Not Understand And Definitely Am Not Going To Talk About
- Something about the commonly acceptable shifting of position while in the following situations: standing on a subway platform, getting into an elevator, waiting outside the therapist’s office, placing your coat in a coatroom that is actually the host’s bedroom.
- Something about meetings about meetings.
- Something about membership fees, cardboard coffee cup sheaths, and structural support.
- Something about the drivers license photo where my shirt is falling off my shoulders.
- Something about sleeping.
- Something about how every man she’d ever been with had left her a manuscript. One that he’d written or fodder for her own.
“I keep a flashlight & the train times but you wouldn’t understand.” || The Wonder Years, Gramercy Theatre, 5.11.2013, Show 2 of 4 in 24 Hours for The Greatest Generation
Sledding with Tigers | Sunshine
“You are my sunshine, oh fuck this sunshine. I hope it rains all day long and we can stay inside all day and night playing pogs, making puzzles, and making out.”
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So here’s the real reason that rape jokes are troubled territory -
Because rape victims say so.
They get to say that. They get to feel that way. On this, they get to set the cultural rules.
It’s not about right or wrong, or logic versus emotion, or arguments of over sensitivity or hypocrisy - you have the free speech to make whatever jokes you want or talk about rape in whatever way you feel is illuminating. But they get to be upset about it. And call you on it. And be hurt by it.
But consider this:
You get to not be a rape victim.
They, however, are not afforded that luxury. Ever again.
