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(July 26, 2017 at 10:12 pm)Losty Wrote: Thanks you guys
Is this the bebe child you were dating?
If so, Imma drive through and smack some sense into him. If he is a larger chap, I shall have a stern conversation with him instead.
"There remain four irreducible objections to religious faith: that it wholly misrepresents the origins of man and the cosmos, that because of this original error it manages to combine the maximum servility with the maximum of solipsism, that it is both the result and the cause of dangerous sexual repression, and that it is ultimately grounded on wish-thinking." ~Christopher Hitchens, god is not Great
PM me your email address to join the Slack chat! I'll give you a taco(or five) if you join!--->There's an app and everything!<---
(November 14, 2018 at 8:57 pm)The Valkyrie Wrote: Have a good day at work. If we ever meet in a professional setting, let me answer your question now. Yes, I DO want fries with that.
(July 26, 2017 at 10:12 pm)Losty Wrote: Thanks you guys
I can't get over your posts. I sincerely don't wish for anyone not even a speck of what I've felt. When you say you feel there's something wrong with you, this really tugs at me. Feelings like these are what keep us oppressed. It's not on you that douches behave the way they do. You don't deserve it. You're worth so much more. I'm not even saying this as a friend, because you and I aren't even close. I'm saying this as an observer and as a woman. As a human. As someone who understands. As someone who felt your pain when I read your posts. Please don't stay in a place where you're not thriving and being happy and committed to joy. Don't settle for just company. Sometimes solitude is better. I stayed and it has taken all my energy and air to get back up after leaving. Just yesterday I got home at night to my ex parked outside my home waiting for me to see why I wasn't home when he knocked and didn't answer when he called. For a moment I began to explain myself and then it hit me. I'm not his pet. Not his possession. Not his own. I'm my own person. I make the decisions. I will not render justifications for my doings. My body. My time. My space. My home. Girl, it's not you. It's him. Please don't be like me and let him spend your years away. My heart is heavy with sadness for your sadness. I mean this wholeheartedly. I wish I could show you just how much I feel it and how I can't for a second judge you no matter what you end up doing. I'd be a hypocrite if I did. Take care of yourself, girl. You're worth a lot.
"Hipster is what happens when young hot people do what old ladies do." -Exian
I wrote a letter a few months ago at a moment of clarity, so I wouldn't forget such clarity. Losty, fellow human, I'll share this as a way of showing you just how much I can relate. Sorry about the endless sentences, misspelling and the like... I wrote it in tears one night and just let the flow do the talking. I never polished it. I wanted it to remain as it was when I was writing it. This is the letter.
To whom it may concern:
This is my letter of resignation.
From this day forward I'm in control of my life, my choices, my body, my space. I’m a woman, not your project. I’m a woman, not your servant. I’m a woman, not your rental home.
To whom it may concern:
My body is not your god’s temple. No, you may not request an explanation regarding what I do with it Friday nights after dinner, because you think your god given authority makes you my body’s keeper.
My body is not up for debate within your circle of chosen ones, but when you post it up as the new bomb that incites a spiritual war because of my carnal choices, I tell you with my head help up high, you, oh chosen one, are wasting your time praying for my salvation while you use that as an excuse to be a creeper over every woman's body, including your daughters when you demand explanations about their masturbation habits.
To whom it may concern:
I see your face in every shadow of the night when I walk to my car, walk from my car, carry those bags, pull that cart. I see your face and I want to run. I want to stop and look at your face once again. I see your face in every shadow and I want to scream your truth. I want them all to know the face beneath your mask of sanctity. I want them all to see your face underneath your mask of darling kid. I want them all to see your face underneath your mask of talented wonder. I see your face and I want to kill. I want to kill, kill, kill
The hatred you create when I walk amongst the shadows, I want to kill the fear you produce in every bone that makes this body tremble, I want to kill my head, because it sees your face. I want to smash my head against that window and kill these thoughts, send these thoughts to whom it may concern, so he knows that on this day at this time I'm submitting my resignation to shame. I have nothing underneath my skin that could shame me like your face shames your breath of Bacardi and something else that I haven't traced in all these ghostly years.
To whom it may concern:
I owe you nothing. Your kindness does not mean I must thank you by letting you touch me in ways that make me feel like free tequila shots handed out by strangers. I owe you nothing for standing up for me when they laughed. I owe you nothing for noticing I was crying. I owe you nothing for saying I'm pretty and ignoring my scars. I owe you nothing for donating your attention. I’m a woman, not an essay and when you reach over, touch me like you own me, I see faces in the shadows, I smell Bacardi, I feel small and ashamed, but on this day, I submit my letter of resignation to whom it may concern, and I'm telling you that you should reach into my pants and under my shirt one more time if you want to know the taste of hell on earth.
To whom it may concern:
I’m a woman complete and whole with or without your approval. This means that if my insecurities make you feel that you have power over me, you're oblivious like the voter that said yes to that proposition based on her favorite politician’s demands, without knowing that she's basically signing over your rights. This means that if my confidence offends you, and my personality doesn't meet your standards of ladylike behavior, I'm still a woman complete with a mind of her own, voice of her own, and worth of her own. Look down on me. It won't make a difference when I rest my head to sleep at night knowing I have no chains around my ribs, and I was not made with your skeleton scrap bones.
To whom it may concern:
I had sex before I got married and you, in your arrogant generosity pledged to forgive me. On this day at this time I take your forgiveness and ever so gracefully spread it across your face with all this ironic forgiveness of my own and ever so lovingly inform you that I am absolutely not sorry, and I undoubtedly owe you nothing, and that sex gave me my son and this makes me a fortunate mother who conceived, a mother who changed diapers at dawn, fed a child all these years, never needing your help. What have you to forgive? Turn around and take your forgiveness with you. I'd throw that microphone back at every one of you who stood up that night at that church and full of your abundant pride said, “I forgive you.” I send all that forgiveness back to all of those whom it may concern.
To whom it might concern:
I’m not sorry for not loving you. You come to me carving the floor with your demands. I can't refuse you? I can't hurt you? I should love you, because you love me, even though it took you the sky shattering like the window smashed against my head for you to see me as a human being. You come here and demand my love and compassion. You say I'm cold because I see your tears and say nothing. You describe me as a robotic creature that holds grudges, but feels nothing, and dresses in pride as if that was the last uniform color left on the shelf. Look at me and notice I know where I'm standing and what I'm saying. My love is not a charity donation, it is not a token of good will, it is not my obligation, and it is not something I can simply choose to feel. You stab my chest with relentless abandonment, expect a loveless return.
To whom it may concern:
This is my letter of resignation!
I will no longer be serving your will. That you are family means nothing. That my thoughts offend you means nothing. That you think I have wounds to heal in order to be fixed and go back to your idea of right, means nothing.
If this letter concerns you, I suggest you listen well. I'm killing every piece of me that holds on to your abuse. I wasted time dreaming of ropes tight around my neck, hanging from those shattered skies like windows to my broken life, but on this day at this time, I'm resigning from the abuse that I inflict upon myself. I'm resigning from the part of me that finds it painful to remember to breathe. I bring death upon those shadows, those faces, the victimization of the oppressors. Today I throw these words out there like mosquitos carrying disease, so it bites every person that it may concern and travels through their body making it irretrievable that on this day, at this time, I'll hold You in contempt if you try to sit me down.
This is my announcement and warning to all those faces in all those shadows, ropes, and platforms, and to all the hands and voices of whom it might concern.
"Hipster is what happens when young hot people do what old ladies do." -Exian
Both of you ladies are so wonderful. The last few posts were so deep. So deep that I too can relate and I get it. Reading every word, Ivy, I felt it all. I resonated with all of it. I too, have been there. Thank you for posting that. Even though it was for Losty, I feel it was for me too, in a way. Hugs to both of you.
Disclaimer: I am only responsible for what I say, not what you choose to understand.
(November 14, 2018 at 8:57 pm)The Valkyrie Wrote: Have a good day at work. If we ever meet in a professional setting, let me answer your question now. Yes, I DO want fries with that.
(July 27, 2017 at 4:04 pm)Nymphadora Wrote: Losty
Ivy
Both of you ladies are so wonderful. The last few posts were so deep. So deep that I too can relate and I get it. Reading every word, Ivy, I felt it all. I resonated with all of it. I too, have been there. Thank you for posting that. Even though it was for Losty, I feel it was for me too, in a way. Hugs to both of you.
Honey, it's for all of us.
Hugs to both of you.
"Hipster is what happens when young hot people do what old ladies do." -Exian
CIJS - I feel... I don't know exactly how I feel. Maybe used in a way? Led on? Definitely lied to. Not quite sure how to process all of the shit that happened today. And it wasn't much. Just a couple of questions and a few poorly worded pathetic sounding insults that made me laugh more than anything.
Oh... and the threat? Understand now, honey, that I control more in my house than you know. Your attempt to discredit me in my own house got nipped in the bud within minutes of you stating your intentions. You may have issues in your house, sweetie, but don't you dare bring your drama into mine. For just as much as you were lied to, so was I.
I'm actually in a better place mentally NOW, than before when I wasn't sure if participating was the right thing to do. There were too many unknowns before. But now, it's over and done with and I'm okay with it all though because it helped me realize that trust is earned and I gave my trust away too easily. Not anymore though. Just one more life lesson to be learned as I go along waiting for the day I die.
And in case you're reading because of some strange inability to keep prying elsewhere now that you no longer have access to what you did before - my flabby self did just fine when it mattered. And since I know you've been visiting a number of times today - I have my ways of knowing things. Coming from a mafia family has its perks now and again because I learned a few tips and tricks way back when.
Ciao.
Disclaimer: I am only responsible for what I say, not what you choose to understand.
(November 14, 2018 at 8:57 pm)The Valkyrie Wrote: Have a good day at work. If we ever meet in a professional setting, let me answer your question now. Yes, I DO want fries with that.
(July 27, 2017 at 5:02 pm)Nymphadora Wrote: Coming from a mafia family has its perks now and again because I learned a few tips and tricks way back when.
You don't mess with the mafia!
We got your back, Nymph!
Who do you think we should lynch?
(November 14, 2018 at 8:57 pm)The Valkyrie Wrote: Have a good day at work. If we ever meet in a professional setting, let me answer your question now. Yes, I DO want fries with that.
