women
Where have all the Flowers gone? Fight of the Feminists, Feminism the ugly bad word. Why I feel so strongly about this is because anyone in her right mind would, secondly is because I am that girl. There has been a substantial amount of discrimination against me, diminishing me as a woman, artist, worker and as a person. There is no end to that until someone puts an end to that.
Women and girls make up half of the human population of the world. But they represent a staggering 70% of the world’s poor. Poor education, healthcare, nutrition, violence remains the main obstacles for women to empower themselves and their families. In many countries baby girls aren’t welcomed, they get aborted or killed when young. Due to latest news there are 60 Million girls missing in India alone because of gender inequality and sex selective abortion. It is a silent genocide happening every day. Things change all too slowly and why is that? In many respects there is not much respect for women to educate, to let them speak for themselves, let them take the lead if they choose to. As it happens even women do not respect sex of their own. Sex selective abortion is one of many appalling ways to hate female sex. But how we are appalled by hate without noticing hate we carry ourselves. What I mean by that?
http://jezebel.com/where-are-indias-60-million-missing-girls-the-tragic-1091500375
What is a woman? I work all my life to be respected as an equal person, and I have to work for it. Is that why I work, to be respected? It is in some sense understandable in some not. Literally to work my ass off to do that, get it. How I see it I stand alone. Woman who has guts to speak her mind and do things her way is an oddity, a target. I cherish my oddity. Is there respect for anything if there is constant doubt? Without trust there is no respect. BANG!
Marilyn
I met her in a pub. I went to three places before I found her. Beautiful in her blonde Marilyn hair, waving her hand enthusiastically behind men holding their drinks, and she was happily playing in the sea, splashing liquid joy all over, drinkable. But I didn’t want to drink. I wanted to sit there with her without hurry, without desire for anything else. I wanted to laugh with her, trust her sweetness. But a woman cannot sit in a pub like that. There is always a desire for something there, must be, why else would you be here, said a man who came to say something about my eyes. He wanted to look me deep in the eyes and rub my back. My Marilyn went for a smoke.
So, it’s a trap where you can be harassed the way, you are not harassed elsewhere, people were there to grab, to drown, to stare and do what they could not do elsewhere. Someone said, Christmas is a hard time. Fuck! Grab your pint! Whatever I thought, I became frustrated and angry. Marilyn why are you in this hole? I wanted to ask. M said knowingly, you only live once. Oh well, I loved to watch her put makeup on sitting next to her beer and the bartender smiling when she was looking for lipstick from her purse. I love when people here know me by my name , she said.
