A rant that makes NO sense. April 2007


Where does the idea of entitlement come from? Those who took history(that would be all of us) know it comes from men with power and money. If you have power(and money..that’s like saying ice cream and chocolate ice cream) you can make the rules as you wish. Either way, men were in power.

So I guess I answered my own question, yes? Anyway, let me say something. I don’t like being thought of as a piece of property, period. But I tell you, reading this for a whole day can really make you question even the smallest things.  But it did make me realize something, I need to learn to respect my own voice and put my foot down. I’ve allowed myself to stuff my feelings what just in not healthy. Not in the least.  I guess I should admit that I am nervous around my sig other when he makes a pass at me, when my other roomie is just walking around.

I am angered when women who are raped are told that they brought it on themselves. Any man/woman who believes that is either lying to themselves or are that depraved.

I cry when women are forced into molds that they don’t belong into.

I get confused when I try to make friends with a woman but don’t know how because of how I was trained that women are not to be trusted. I get angered when I try to explain who i am and I am brushed off because I am not attractive enough.  I get angered that I can’t be in both circles of sexuality, but that if I am, as a black female I must be some type of whore if I am.

I am angry that because I find men of different races attractive that I must be either insatiable(I’m not) or a whore(no, I’m a friggin prude at times..just like any other woman)

I am angered when white men see me as a play thing instead of  person who is not only their equal, but their possible helpmate. I am a person, not a fucking fetish.

I get frustrated when I try to explain to a man from a different culture that I smile because I am FRIENDLY not because I want to jump his bones.

I get peeved when women accuse me of stealing their men, when I have no such desire.

I become ticked when I talk about my grief at Bethany and some so called friend says I brought it on myself, but if a man says the same thing, they spend three hours trying to help them(you know who you are and I will not forgive you until I get a fucking applogy..no amy it isn’t you).

I am seething with rage when someone tries to discount what has happened to me or anyone for that matter many years ago. Just because the abuse stopped does not mean that it is going to instantally go away. If you believe that you are not only lacking in the cerebral cortex, but are a danger to society.

I seethe with rage period, but I believe you guys get the point.  I’m tired of being demonized for being a woman. If I do something wrong, then I did. If I did not(use your logic here) I don’t deserve it.

Don’t force me to cover up to the point of imobility because my breasts and thighs tempt you. If I am dressed in a non-seductive manner, you should have the self control to not make sounds like you are a freaking farm animal. It does not turn me on, it disturbs me.

Do not blame me for your hard on. You get alot of them during the day, and I am usually not there.

Do not try and bug me into fucking you, if I do not fuck you it is because I do not want to fuck you. I will be nice about it for a while, but if you keep going I will fold your items into four corners and use the sharp pointy object to stroke your prostrate…HARD.

When I say the words “I like girls” I mean it in the way of “I like them WHEN YOU ARE NOT THERE”. I do not want you involved with me and my lady of the moment, period.  It’s not that we can’t get guys, it’s that we don’t want them(in my case..at the moment).


About All My Eggs

I'm weird. Really weird. And I tend to talk about things that interest me. That being religion, education,sex-related bits, and family. I talk about myself and my journey to disbelief also. Hense the name All my Eggs.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s