A Scene From Pina Bausch’s Ballet, Die Keuschheitslegende (The Legend of Virginity), Wuppertal, Photography by Helmut Newton, 1983
[serious trigger warning: rape, abuse, transphobia, transmisogyny, descriptions of physical and verbal violence against trans women]
Have you ever heard of the word “trap.”
I thought you might because it’s a word you use
When you see someone cute
Perhaps someone a lot like me
A trap is a girl who gets her drinks for free
After all she’ll pay later when you slip her a roofie
And you bring her up to your grungy
Fifth floor apartment that costs half your salary
And you tear off her clothes and…
Wait. This isn’t what you expected to see?
I thought I made it clear
Back when you were buying drinks for me.
If you want me to go home that’s fine with me.
But now you’ve tied me to the bed
and locked me in your room
And I hear the key fall on the kitchen table
As you dial the phone.
I hear every word you say.
I start looking for a way to escape,
A window I can jump through
That will splatter me over the sidewalk below
Before your friends get here
And fuck me like a saturday night TV show.
But the rope around my wrist won’t let go.
Your friends are wearing work boots.
Eight steel toes at eye level
Eye level because I can’t lift my eyes from the grain in your worn hardwood floors.
And the first kick breaks my ribs.
And I feel that thing I thought was human leave my throat
They make me crawl.
And then they fuck me into the wall.
And when I fall to my knees they find another use for me.
And then the kicks. Broken bones, shattered teeth.
Another trap, getting what it deserves.
It’s amazing, how much abuse a body can take,
Before it becomes a corpse.
Have you ever heard the word “trap?”
fat, broken, whore.
Lovely, Beautiful, Ape.
Oh, okay then.
Broken, sad, whore.
Lol, I found fat, funny and bad, that’s funny.
Bad, mild funny lol
lovely, whore, broken…well
fat, broken, and sad.
Broken, plop, whore.
pretty, sad, broken omfg what the hell
Fat, bad, broken. Oh.
Kit Kat Cake Tutorial! (tutorial)
… i might make this for friday night. cake and booze and poker? yes.
You all need to watch this.
That’s not the case.
We aren’t asking to be treated like we’re special. We also aren’t asking for anything that we shouldn’t be allowed to have being humans. The parade isn’t even about our asking for rights half the time. It’s about showing to those who can’t or are afraid to be open and honest with/about themselves that there is a huge community out there to help them, who are just like them. It lets us know that even though it seems like it sometimes, we aren’t alone in what we’re going through and that other people have been through it. It shows us that it’s ok to be loud, proud, and out in the open because even when other people reject us, there are people out there who won’t. It’s a sense of security. It’s a sense of being proud of who you are even though it’s hard to do when you’re alone. We are a minority, and the parades show us that the fact that we are shouldn’t stop us from anything. African Americans have Black History Month, and marches. There’s Asian History Month. There are so many ethnic awareness months there are random mixtures that I didn’t even know existed awareness/history months.
People say that because we want to be treated like equals that we shouldn’t get parades. But having a right to parade is equal rights as well. If certain ethnicities can do it, why can’t other people? Hell, white American males could have a parade for all I care. Be proud of who you are, minority or not.
This rant is losing itself so I’m going to end it.
So why do I keep saying I won’t do it anymore and then do it more? Why am I so fucking stupid? I always regret it because it leaves bright red marks that turn into really noticable scars and while it heals it hurts and stings like a mother fucker and I always end up cleaning it, treating it, and wrapping it and I’m always like “what the actual fuck I’m not doing this again” and then a week or two later I do it again.
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