We had to cut out fifty words out of headlines in the newspaper, then write a poem using only those words. And okay, I just did the list of words at the end so I'd make my 35 word quota, but anyway...here's mine...
Opinion
By R.Skye
Vast voices
claim glory
concoct triumph.
Nonsense debated,
reasonable debates?
Challenge crown.
Vintage legacy,
exasperation.
Refuse warmonger.
Divest policy.
Global war,
boost backfield quota.
Tangle, crisis.
Alter honors.
Defense strategies scare.
Celebrate
dwindling opportunities.
Growl.
Bite.
Brace.
Battle.
Collision.
Puzzle.
This year, boys are stupid. And not for the normal reasons, like them going girl-crazy and throwing things down my shirt. This year, they've been making jokes. Disgusting jokes. Violent jokes. Rape jokes. I wasn't really bothered at first, but that was before I was on blogs, before I learned about feminism and the true nature of rape. I look back now, and I ask myself why I ever thought these were right or acceptable in any way. What's the statistic, one in four women will get raped or sexually harassed? One, two, three, four. That's me and three friends. Which one will it be? And why the hell (sorry, mom) should we be joking about that? I just want to rage and storm and curse and get violent on those boys, who don't even know that they are perpetuating a culture that says that it's acceptable to demean their mothers, sisters, friends, girlfriends. What should I do? Should I shove a picture of Melissa McEwan, who is a hero of mine, in their faces? Is there anything I can do? All that'll happen is that I'll be labled "touchy" and a "bitch." Maybe it's worth it though. There's no way I can keep my dignity and my pride when someone says "Oh, come on, if he raped you, you'd love it!" and I do nothing.
This is my promise to myself, to any woman who has had to go through that experience, to any future girls of the world. I'm not going to stand for it anymore. Why should I? It's my right to fight the rape culture of America, as a woman and a human being. There's no excuse for my ignoring it till now and I intend to make amends with that as soon as I can. One, two, three, four. It's not going to be me, or my friends. I will die before I let that happen.
I'm writing this for a friend of mine. I don't think there's anything I could do to thank her enough. I'm not sure I'm exaggerating when I say that she brought me back from the edge. I don't know if anyone will get this, unless they've actually been suicidal themselves, but I'm going to write it anyway. When I was in the worst of my depression, it was like there was a huge whole where my stomach was. Nothing could make me happy. I would still laugh and smile, but they wouldn't quite reach my eyes or my mind. In short, it absolutely sucked. I won't go in to it anymore than that, I don't need to whine about how bad it was. I just want to thank my friend.
PMTer (you know who you are), you don't know what you did for me. You can say you didn't do anything, but I didn't need anything special. I needed someone who didn't think I was crazy. I needed someone who would care, but not judge. I needed someone happy and optimistic. You may have not done anything out of the ordinary, but you were awesome. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't just talked to me. Even when you were just distracting me (with Dom, of course), you were taking my mind off, well, killing myself. And I don't think I can ever thank you enough.
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My body is worth $5315.00. That was a pretty creepy quiz and my mom looked at me strange when I told her, but hey, it's a good to know I have options.
I'm rated PG!! If my blog were a movie, I wouldn't have to sneak in to see it. Apparently I'm not suitable because I say the word kill twice.
I guess they don't factor in the angsty poems or the depression.
Alright, so a couple of months ago I was updating my MySpace, changing my layout and so on. I had just discovered The Bastard Fairies, so I put up one of their "advertisement" videos on my page (video in question: The Coolest 8 Year Old In The World Talks About O'Reilly) I personally thought it was fabulous (actually so did my mom when I showed it to her), even though there was some cursing. I didn't really care. As long as I wasn't repeating the "bad" words, there wasn't a problem. It wasn't anything worse than what I was hearing on South Park and Family Guy.
Before I go on, I'll give you some background on what my family is like. My mom and dad seperated a couple of months after we moved up here from Washington. I was really young, still a baby. I would see my dad maybe a couple of days a year up until about five years ago, when I would go see him in Seattle for a week or two (still only once a year). This was fine with me. I hadn't known anything else, so there wasn't anything to miss. Last year, he moved to Minnesota and married a woman he had known in high school (more on that in a later post). So now I go visit him there in the summer. If I get right down to it, I hate Minnesota. It's a very weird, creepy place to me. It seems like everyone is blond and tan and Republican there. Basically the complete opposite of what I'm used to. It's very odd to me. Like Stepford, or something.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. A couple of days ago, I got a call from my dad. He was not happy at all. Apparently the video was not appropriate viewing for his Little Princess. He didn't like all the "profanity". All right, I could get on board with that. I actually probably should have expected that. He asked me what I thought my grandmother would say if she saw that on my MySpace. I said that she probably wouldn't like that it swore a lot. Usually I don't really voice my opinion with my dad. He pretty much thinks that at thirteen I should be concerned with boys and makeup and I don't know...ponies, probably. I've probably shocked him by being interested in bands like Muse and feminism and politics. I think I know more about politics than him (he thought Obama was Muslim!). This time I just kind of snapped. I had to say something. So I then told him that she might be offended because most of our family is obsessively Republican and probably agrees with O'Reilly.
I really don't think I was disrespectful. I just want my dad to know that I have a mind, and I use it. I think it's awesome that I consider myself a feminist and want to know about the world that is outside my circle of family and friends. I just don't think he thinks it's awesome and that bothers me. Maybe I should just say that I want him to be proud of me, but that's not it. I think I just want him to know that I care about stuff other than the regular things that people think teenage girls care about. I'm sure I've rambled on enough already, so I'll stop. But I've just got to say.
I'm not a Little Princess, and I'm proud of it!!
Another poem. I like writing poetry. You don't have to be nearly as coherent, but you can express so much more.
Beauty is fleeting
But I want it.
Living in the shadow of
the highlights and perfect skin
the shiny white teeth
the clothes I can only dream of.
Let me have a chance.
My beauty is on the inside.
I can't show it.
Out of convention,
Out of my mind.
Everything I wish for.
But it seems I have nothing.
Be happy, they say,
You are beautiful.
Superficial can hurt,
But the pain won't change my thoughts.
And my thoughts won't change my outside.
They tell me not to think about
If only I controlled my thoughts.
Those with the pretty outsides
Can be pretty inside too.
They have the full life.
While here I am, pale and small,
cling to what little half I have.