i hate men doesn’t mean i hate you. it means i hate your position in this world. it means i’m not obligated to like you. it means i don’t have to talk to you if i don’t want to. it means i get to have my space and i don’t have to dance for you, smile at you, or soothe you. and you can put up with me being wary of you, can’t you, because the world has a fucking red carpet waiting for you wherever you go.
Incredible, moving stuff, and the kind of thing that it took to really get through to me back-in-the-day. I do feel bad tho, knowing how many people out there just will not get this, and will not understand it, will not comprehend the depth of meaning and the nuance and, above all, i guess something like the literary character of this piece… that’s not to say that it’s only to be read literarily, or as an allegory or something – i read it as entirely sincere. but there’s a performative element, and element that maybe derrida would jizz over and say was “unrepreesntable” or something like that god fucking dammit why does everyone have to be so literal, so bloody minded all the time idk idk idk sping around three times and touch the ground bags not it.
its a worthy piece.