Silence: A Prison

I couldn’t sleep last night, so I had a rant  post about my novella and the whole Sterling thing (in short: I’m stuck on the novella as a result of mixed feelings and I don’t really care about the Sterling thing so much as the “outrage” surrounding it).

But then, I had a breakthrough. How silence is both a Godsend and a curse. 

I thought about the Sterling incident. I am the last generation who had somewhat of a childhood without computers. I watch my boyfriend’s three year old cousin play on iPhones and tablets like it’s nothing. He knows how to push play and make something fullscreen. He will never grow up not knowing about this wonderful technology.

And yet, part of me misses those days. There is way too much “connectedness” now. I don’t have anything damning out there on the internet (well, last time I checked I didn’t), and I see teenagers and even people my age being reckless. Not knowing (or not caring) that whatever they send out to the digital world can never really be erased. 

And even now, we must be more mindful of what we send out. Private messages are no longer sacred. I just recently screen shotted a conversation of some guy essentially threatening me, because I didn’t agree with his stance on overweight women. One can’t backtrack and say they didn’t say that when there is evidence everywhere.

But maybe now we can’t even say what we want in the privacy of our own homes, without fear of being recorded. Money aside, etc., she knew what she was doing. She knew he was going to go on another racist rant (one doesn’t stay with a blatantly racist man for years and not know these things!), so she decided to record it. And hand it over to TMZ. 

I’m not terribly concerned with people recording me because I don’t usually say things that will bite me in the ass later. But it’s still something to think about.


A MGTOW Survey & Some Thoughts

That part on plutocracy masquerading as democracy? Epic


imageMGTOW is basically the statement of self-ownership and saying that only you have the right to decide what your goals in life should be. It is saying that, as a man I will not surrender my will to the social expectations of women and society, because both have become hostile against masculinity.

  • Male 1: Dude, why don’t you have a girl friend?
  • Male 2: Its not for me bro, I’m a MGTOW.

TarnsZilla WordPress’s Multi-Cultural icon has this cool survey she is conducting for a post she is writing about the differences between what the media currently presents MGTOW as VS what it actually is.
Check it out: MGTOW Survey
Some Thoughts
I have as much faith in our social institutions as Native Americans have in the US Government. Almost everything I’ve been told has been a complete lie aside, from jersey girls being easy. I feel that anyone aware of…

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There’s a Korean beauty shop in my home town. They’ve been in business since I was in 5th grade. I would go in there nearly every day.  Wouldn’t buy anything most of the time, but I’d have good conversations with the owners and employees.

When I was 16, I had bought a shirt in Detroit. Well, more like a tank top.  It was black, with some white frilly stuff going on.  And my boobs were growing, so the shirt was stretching at the top.

So I was in the store one day, proudly wearing my black tank top. And Kim, the second owner, she kind of took me to the side. She told me how she remembered when I was a young girl, decent and whatnot.  And she said she was disappointed in how I had been dressing lately. Now, I’ve never thought that I’d dressed inappropriately, but I felt embarrassed.  My own mother hadn’t even said anything like that to me. And hear I am, in my own little world, completely oblivious about how I’m presenting myself to the world.

It’s something I think about.  Often.

Only You

Had a dream this morning about my grandmother.  And when I woke up, I felt incredibly sad.

When will I stop beating myself up over it?

In the dream, I knew her end was near. I persuaded my sister for her to stay with my grandmother, along with me. I wanted to be there with her, until the very end. And I felt incredibly guilty whenever I had to make a stop at the house to get clothes, because I was always worried that she would die when I was out.

It’s been almost three years, and I still feel like it was my fault. I hadn’t talked to her since her birthday that February.  I couldn’t have done anything, but still.