Thursday, August 12, 2010
Perverted Rats.
Fuck You.
waking up, excited to get prettied up. to do something that'll make me feel happy about stepping out into the outdoors where differences makes one beautiful. but wait. i have restrictions:
i can't wear my favorite shorts that i got on sale because of them.
i have to throw those v-necks back into the dryer because they're getting too loose & showy.
i should let low my bangs to hide my face from them.
i think boots will catch too much unneeded attention.
i know tying my hair will look less attracting.
an oversized tshirt will do, some flats are decent, i can do sweatpants, tie up my hair, throw on a hoodie, and i must not forget my earphones.
ALL BECAUSE OF YOU,
fucking perverted rats.
i hate your whistling, your hollering. those stares that just follows me. i know you know i notice, and you like it. but i don't but to you, that doesn't matter. you roam the streets, looking for eyecandy, licking your lips like it's a game. like i'm a product. i don't even dare want to know what's going on in that digusting mind of yours.
sometimes i notice you from a block away, preparing to block out the noise that is supposedly to catch my attention. and sometimes you're in the car usually filled with another one of those people like you, driving up from behind, then driving fucking slow as you stick your head out the window to look back.
this happens everyday and i thought i could ignore it. but as often as it comes, it doesn't go away. every demeaning incident builds up until i feel so angry i don't know how to react. well it's piled up pretty high right now.
i don't fucking have a barcode on my body. you can't buy me, don't even check me out. i'm hella damn younger than you, get a damn life. you're all fucking pitiful. it's not even funny, does it even make you feel good about yourself? the shame and disgust i have is undefinable with words, only with emotions that will hopefully not build up inside of me.
i swear one day, i will do something about it. one day.
waking up, excited to get prettied up. to do something that'll make me feel happy about stepping out into the outdoors where differences makes one beautiful. but wait. i have restrictions:
i can't wear my favorite shorts that i got on sale because of them.
i have to throw those v-necks back into the dryer because they're getting too loose & showy.
i should let low my bangs to hide my face from them.
i think boots will catch too much unneeded attention.
i know tying my hair will look less attracting.
an oversized tshirt will do, some flats are decent, i can do sweatpants, tie up my hair, throw on a hoodie, and i must not forget my earphones.
ALL BECAUSE OF YOU,
fucking perverted rats.
i hate your whistling, your hollering. those stares that just follows me. i know you know i notice, and you like it. but i don't but to you, that doesn't matter. you roam the streets, looking for eyecandy, licking your lips like it's a game. like i'm a product. i don't even dare want to know what's going on in that digusting mind of yours.
sometimes i notice you from a block away, preparing to block out the noise that is supposedly to catch my attention. and sometimes you're in the car usually filled with another one of those people like you, driving up from behind, then driving fucking slow as you stick your head out the window to look back.
this happens everyday and i thought i could ignore it. but as often as it comes, it doesn't go away. every demeaning incident builds up until i feel so angry i don't know how to react. well it's piled up pretty high right now.
i don't fucking have a barcode on my body. you can't buy me, don't even check me out. i'm hella damn younger than you, get a damn life. you're all fucking pitiful. it's not even funny, does it even make you feel good about yourself? the shame and disgust i have is undefinable with words, only with emotions that will hopefully not build up inside of me.
i swear one day, i will do something about it. one day.
Chicken Soup For My Soul
at this point in time in my life through all the shit i have to do or think i have to do; i need to forget everything and everyone for just one day. i know it's called self healing and that's just what i'm going to do, want to do, will fight to do. society has evolved a new definition with every generation. and this generation is entirely engulfed in technology:
convenient touchscreens, dependent music, social networking, online consumerism, & more. i'm guilty.
it's hard for me, a young woman. a southeast mixed asian. living in oakland. it's hard for everyone like me. strived & struggling. always looking, sometimes finding. it's a pain being afraid to walk the streets I have been living on for 17 years. it's numbing to hear the constant disrespectful, shameful hollerings, whistlings, stares that just cause my blood to boil in anger. i just want to get away and really breathe.
i need a day with no phone, no music. no internet. no thomas, no friends, no family. just me.
space is so important to me and i don't know why i feel like i have to struggle and fight for it. for myself! wtf. and yet you tell me that you're sick of my wanting space kind of shit. this summer was filled with a lot of learning and well, i don't even know if i've changed or not. when i stress, i get mad and i don't give a damn; i hoped you learned. many things in my past have shaped the way i deal with things, see things, and accept things. it's hard for me because i really do have that 'i don't care about anything' attitude.
right now at this moment, i'm sick of social networking. i really do miss really hanging out with friends to get to know them and writing handwritten letters (cheesy but true). i don't want to rely on facebook to keep in contact with my friends, or to know what in the world everyone has been up to. i really don't. but that's the way things tend to go. i should just start by worrying about things only worth worrying about.
i just want to be alone sometime. more often recently.
convenient touchscreens, dependent music, social networking, online consumerism, & more. i'm guilty.
it's hard for me, a young woman. a southeast mixed asian. living in oakland. it's hard for everyone like me. strived & struggling. always looking, sometimes finding. it's a pain being afraid to walk the streets I have been living on for 17 years. it's numbing to hear the constant disrespectful, shameful hollerings, whistlings, stares that just cause my blood to boil in anger. i just want to get away and really breathe.
i need a day with no phone, no music. no internet. no thomas, no friends, no family. just me.
space is so important to me and i don't know why i feel like i have to struggle and fight for it. for myself! wtf. and yet you tell me that you're sick of my wanting space kind of shit. this summer was filled with a lot of learning and well, i don't even know if i've changed or not. when i stress, i get mad and i don't give a damn; i hoped you learned. many things in my past have shaped the way i deal with things, see things, and accept things. it's hard for me because i really do have that 'i don't care about anything' attitude.
right now at this moment, i'm sick of social networking. i really do miss really hanging out with friends to get to know them and writing handwritten letters (cheesy but true). i don't want to rely on facebook to keep in contact with my friends, or to know what in the world everyone has been up to. i really don't. but that's the way things tend to go. i should just start by worrying about things only worth worrying about.
i just want to be alone sometime. more often recently.
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