not yet thanksgiving
At 39 years old I can I say with absolute certainty that I hate being asked what I am thankful for. No one ever appreciates my answers, so the first thing I will say that I am thankful for is not being appreciated. It has given me the massive capacity to lie convincingly on the spot. Which has also helped to develop my imagination and creative writing skills
At 5′ 3″ I am small and rather ordinary. I am easily overlooked and underestimated. I am thankful for this, as it has allowed me to utilize my intelligence, resourcefullness, and natural inclination toward deviousness instead. It has also allowed me to perpetrate shenanigans without suspicion.
I have been witness to much violence in the home, and it has left a mark upon me. In its own way I am thankful for it. I have been shown what it is wrong, and it allowed me to see what is right. This stain of violence led me to find a stable and loving relationship, where support is always standard, and we choose eachother.
I am thankful for choice, and the ability to see that even if the choices are between a rock and a hard place, they are still choices. I think too many people believe they have no choices. Just because you do not like the options, doesn’t mean you don’t still have the freedom to make the choice.
Lastly, perhaps most frivolously, yet no less important to my wellbeing, I am thankful for the ability to experience my pets. To say care for them seems woefully inadequate. I feel they give me more than I could ever provide for them. The jellybean toes, soft underbellies, twitchy whiskers, and rumbly purrs are just the beginning.
the patriarchy
Hundreds of millions of men
All over the world
Arms linked in solidarity
Enough had finally been had
Sensibilities had shifted
Preconceptions without enmity
Their Women, All Women, Were People
Finally.
Their eyes were open. Their hearts full.
Under the weight of their conviction
The Patriarchy will fall.
I don’t know
Not too long ago
I got into a battle
A argument of the mind
In my wide view
She made a stupid opinion
About something very offensive
I thought it was fun
I like challeng people
But then I got into her head
Full of half truths and lies
Filled with poison and fears
I know how broken she is
Don't pitty her
It wasn't feelings of depression
But...
Hate.
She carried so much hate and ill
In herself to a problem that
Never even touched her
Yet she claimed sanctuary
Just because of free speech
You don't get to curse someone
And just walk away
Like nothing happened!
She posted it.
I confronted her.
Back and forth.
I fell down
Writhing in her hate comments
To those who never even met her
I was appalled
As if I knew an acidic secret
How could she speak her mind
Ans just walk away?
Why?!
So as she was turning away
I called her back more and more
Fueling the fire of hate
Until she explodes
Then I take cover and douse it
Polietly, I doused her flames.
Weakly, I removed her kindle
Still there wa a flame.
I don't know.
Are we friends?
No.
Yes.
That Happened
I got most of my education from what people like to call an "alternative school", which basically just translates to "school with no rules". We had 1 hallway, 60 students, and 4 teachers who we all called by their first names. We would often host community lunches, during which all 60 of us would squeeze into a single classroom and eat food that we had made.
During one of these lunches I was sitting with my girlfriend at a table that we had managed to snag from the crowd. We were talking, flirting, eating off each other's plates - just being real gross in general. There was a cup of water on the table and, assuming that it was my girlfriend's, I took a sip. I figured there wouldn't be a problem with that.
There was a problem with it.
As I took a few more sips from the cup, I noticed one of my teachers staring me down from the serving table. I caught her eye, confused as to why she was giving me such a dirty look, and lifted the cup to my lips once again.
This went on for a while, the teacher staring at me as I drunk self consciously. Neither of us broke eye contact. I figured it was the natural progression of our stare down when she began to walk towards me.
She was a small woman, but looming over me she seemed much bigger than possible. I placed the cup back on the table and craned my head up to see her properly.
After taking a few moments to assert her dominance, my teacher bellowed out the scariest words I have heard in my life:
"Why are you drinking from my mug?"
It's no surprise to me that my girlfriend broke up with me soon after that incident.