feminism

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Hello, lovelies.

So, I realize it has been months since I’ve spoken to you last, but it has come to my attention that there is an issue I need to speak to you about- feminism. image

I can already hear the groans and sarcastic eye rolls. “Oh god,” you may be thinking “she’s one of those people.” Yes. I am. I am a feminist, or in other words, one who believes all people should be treated equally, no matter what their gender (or race or sexuality or religion, etc, etc) may be.

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Now, I have always been a feminist. But my urge to make a post about it was inspired by a boy whom I had the misfortune of calling my friend. He recently sent me a text message telling my I should take part in the “pen under boob” challenge which, according to him, was taking over the Internet. I responded immediately, telling him that I thought he should take part in the “duct tape over mouth” challenge. He seemed unphased and merely repeated the original text. When I asked him why, he said “because you can, I don’t have boobs.”

I am not a toy. My body is not a form of entertainment for other people. I will do what I want to to with my body because it’s mine, and anyone who asks me to do anything out of context like this is being incredibly disrespectful.

Which brings me to the topic of sexual harassment and rape. There are a great deal of opinions on this matter, and here are mine:

  • Rape and/or sexual harassment (such as catcalls, inappropriate touching, etc.) should be illegal, no questions asked.
  • Nobody should be raped or sexually harassed, no matter who they are.
  • If somebody rapes or sexually harasses another human being, they should not in any way blame it on the other person for “provoking” them. We are responsible for our bodies and our actions.
  • “Provocative” clothing is not an excuse for rape or sexual harassment!

I’m tired of hearing how girls are “asking for it” when they wear “inappropriate” clothing. Unless they were wearing a shirt that says “hello, please feel free to force me to have sex with you or to make any sexual comments or actions you please!” I can assure you that they were not asking for it. Clothing is a form of self expression, just like art or music, and telling people that by expressing a certain side of themselves they are “asking for it” is not okay. If men (or women) truly are distracted by the crop tops and short shorts most schools forbid, maybe we should focus our efforts less on shaming the girls who are confident with their bodies and more on teaching others to control themselves and not feel the need to get somebody naked whenever they see a bra strap.

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Oh, and another thing. For those of you who may believe it is totally acceptable to whistle or call out to someone you find attractive on the street, it isn’t. You may say, “Oh, but it’s complimenting them!” when really, it makes people feel uncomfortable, scared, insecure, violated, and unsafe. Nobody deserves to feel this way. The world should be a safe, happy place, not one where a woman (or a man) feels unsafe walking down their street when wearing short shorts!image

Oh, and here’s another thing. Why do people think that clothing needs to be gender defined? Literally all that clothing is is fabric and maybe some sequins or something, so why do we need to judge people who wear clothing that “don’t match” what their gender is? Dresses are pretty. I like dresses. But if a boy wears a dress, suddenly the world is judging him, telling him that he’s too “girly,” or even being mistaken as identifying himself as a girl. I believe that with a gender you weren’t born as is fine, but I don’t believe somebody’s gender is defined by their genders. Boys can still be boys if they wear a dress.

Just because someone wears “boy’s” clothes does not mean they identify as a boy.

Just because someone wears “girl’s” clothes does not mean they identify as a girl.

Wear what you want, and slay it. You’ll look fabulous no matter what.

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(I realize most of these images are more female based, and I apologize, I’m just posting quotes that I like and am not at all trying to be gender biased)

Anyways, I’m going to call it a night. I have exams tomorrow *groan* But I’d love to hear what you all think on the issue! I’ve just written my opinions, but please feel free to leave yours in the comments below.

Until next time!

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I killed Kaleb… Don’t judge.

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So, a little while ago, I told you a bit about my short story assignment where we wrote stories based on these super cool drawings. Well, I’m going to show you a little snippet of the story, and tell you some, er, interesting things that happened after I handed it in.

Just as I have settled into an only slightly uncomfortable state of mind, it happens. The door smashes open. Splinters and sparks fly like fireworks on New Year’s Eve, but with much more power and destruction. And amidst the cloud of dust and chaos, I hear voices, male ones. Ones that should not be in my house.

“Is she in there, Kaleb?” says one, a deep growl like a grizzly bear’s, but with much more age.

“How am I supposed to know? I haven’t even looked in her room yet!” snaps the other, and a face appears by the open door. He is a young man, only about twenty or so, and yet with the scars on his face, you can hardly tell. Piercing gray eyes scan the charcoal-filled room, and just as they twist in my direction, another voice speaks, but in my head this time.

Don’t let him see your eyes, Ria. Don’t let him see any sign of life in this room.

Fear trickles into my blood, stronger than ever before. Squeezing my eyes shut to hide their unusual lilac tint, I pray to all that is good that this nightmare will come to an end, and that Alanna, wherever she may be, is safe.

After what seems like an eternity, I at last hear Kaleb shuffling back out of the room.

“Grab your backpack, Gregory, we’re leaving. There’s no sign of her.”

“Are you sure? The Dark One will be awfully angry if we come back with nothing, and you remember what happened last time.”

“Of course I’m sure, Gregory,” snarls Kaleb, dislike ringing with every syllable, “I’m not blind. See, I actually follow our master’s orders, and therefore have not have my vision burned out, unlike some people I know.”

Their argument drags on, but I pay no attention. There is a role to play and I must play it. Arms outstretched, neck stretched up to the sun, I am a bird flying on a stationary sky. For that is what I have come to realize. When Alanna hung this wallpaper three days ago, she must have known that it would have to become my prison.

My prison. Who are they to keep me contained? Why must I hide from these men like a scared little girl when I am a warrior in red converse? The anger that I had pushed back one floods through my veins once again, this time stronger than ever. So strong, in fact, I can feel the paper around me shattering, and my wings spreading to embrace the free air. I am alive again. No one can hold me back.

Kaleb and Gregory scream at first, and I am able to bask in the glow of my success for a few sweet seconds. But no scream lasts forever, and soon Kaleb has whipped a gun from his briefcase and has aimed it straight at my heart. Suddenly, I remember why I was trapped up in the wall. Because they were looking for me.

“Don’t kill it,” Gregory mutters, clutching the sleeve of Kaleb’s leather jacket, “I’ll bet my life that inside the bird is the Gardener girl. See, I told you she was here somewhere.”

Kaleb cackles maniacally, something I have only ever seen Disney villains do. Trust me, the real thing is much, much worse. He lunges towards me, hairy arms outstretched, and I dart away, flapping my pearly white wings frantically. Again, he lunges, and I flop like a fish out of water around on the cold wooden floor. My only means of escape, the open window a few feet up, is calling, but there is a snag in the sweater. I may be a dove through and through, but my flying skills are the same as ever. In other words? I can’t fly. There is nothing else I can do. I give in, tensing my body and waiting to be snatched up and stuffed into the bulging briefcase.

But just as his stubby fingers curl around my wings, I feel a strange tingling sensation in my gut. Power surges through my body in the form of a scream, and for a few seconds, nothing exists but my voice, my fear, my pain. But it’s not just mine. Two more screams have joined the din. The screams of two grown men.

My eyes open to a horrible sight. Thick green vines have sprung from the burnt wooden boards of a floor, and are now beginning to twist and twirl around the men in an almost snake like fashion. Round and round they go, tighter with each spiral, until each of the villains is completely pinned to the ground, helpless. I must admit, I almost feel sorry for them. Almost.

“Stop this… You… Cursed child…” Gregory croaks, his wrinkled face wincing in pain as the vines clasp on tightly to his throat, “I swear… You will pay for this… You may have gotten away this time… Never again… The Dark One will find you… He will… Destroy you…”

And with that, his harshly tanned face relaxes, and his green eyes roll up to the ceiling. He is as gone as my childhood innocence.

I turn to Kaleb in desperation, praying that he will still be with me, but he is fading fast. I grasp onto the vines with my small beak, trying to pull them away, trying to prevent another murder. Because that’s what it is. Somebody, heaven knows who, caused those vines to rise through the floor. They killed those men. And despite the hate I felt for them mere moments ago, I know they must pay for their actions. Revenge is, after all, my specialty.

Tears stream down my cheeks as Kaleb’s light fades. For cheeks I now have. The salty water pouring down my cheeks seems to have ripped the paper right out of me. I am relieved to be back in my own body, despite its many imperfections, for it brings me a comfort I haven’t felt in what feels like centuries.

(Sorry if that was a bit confusing, it’s right in the middle of a chapter. Hopefully, you at least understood the part about the two villains, Kaleb and Gregory, and them dying)

These stories that my classmates and I have written are being made into our own little magazine by my teacher, and will be distributed amongst my whole class. I saw no problem with this until about two days after I handed in my story.

There’s a kid in my class named Kaleb.

So, without meaning to, I suffocated a boy in my class. I hope he doesn’t read my story, because the outcomes of that would be… Interesting. Hopefully nobody in his family reads it either. He has a very large family.

Oh dear, what have I gotten myself into?

Hope for Sunday Dennis

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http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/hope-for-sunday-dennis/286076

That is a very important URL. If you click it, it will take you to a page about Sunday Dennis, the mother of three young children, who has recently been diagnosed with a severe form of brain cancer. Since her country, Canada, doesn’t have doctors trained to help with that specific sickness, she will have to be flown down the the USA to receive treatment.

This may not seem like a big deal to you, but please listen. In Canada, medical services like that are free. If you go to the hospital, you don’t have to pay to get your appendix removed or your broken arm mended or whatever it is. In the USA, you do have to pay for hospital services. For the treatment Sunday needs to survive, her family has to pay $100,000, money which they really don’t have. And they need it by tomorrow, Monday, January 5th.

Her husband set up a page on youcaring.com where people can donate to help fundraise for Sunday. The page was only set up last night, and they’ve recieved a grand total of $82,401. But they need more. It is 9:00pm in Sunday’s time, and she needs to wake up to see that money.

Even if you don’t know Sunday, I’m begging you to please take the time to donate to help Sunday out. After all, if it were you, you’d want the same.

Me and my siblings' donation.

Me and my siblings’ donation.

Hello, 2015

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This year I have learned more about myself than any other year. There have been losses in our New Yearfamily, as well as new additions. I’ve made friends, learned new things, gotten amazing opportunities, and gone on adventures I’ll always remember. On the other hand, not all of 2014 was party-all-night happiness. Lives have been lost, friendships have started to fade. School has gotten so much more difficult, and my heart has been crushed a thousand times by so many authors, I’m surprised I’m still sane (although I might not be.)

But all that’s over now. It’s time to look ahead to 2015, a year of futuristic rainbows and unicorns and flying toasters (hey, anything is possible!) What lies ahead, hidden by that murky cloud of the future? Love, war, anger, joy? A mix of all, perhaps? Or maybe something so incredible, so unique, there are no words invented to describe the feelinga coming our way. Whatever it is, it’s coming in exactly fifty minutes (at least in my time zone.)

I’ve never really been a New Year’s Resolutions type, but here are some wishes I have for 20-5:

-I wish that for every down, there will be at least one up.
-I wish that I will learn new things, try new things, and meet new friends
-On the other hand, I wish that I will not forget the old friends and experiences, as they are so important, too.
-I wish that I will help the world in some way this year, be it by donating my money or my time.
-I wish that my friends will all have an amazing and successful year.
-I wish for world peace (hey, go big or go home, right?)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Shattered Wings

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So, I figure I should tell you what my story’s actually about.

My story was inspired by this really cool picture. In school, we’re writing short stories based on these illustrations by a man named Harris Burdick.
The story is that Harris brought a bunch of drawings into a publisher, and he said he’d bring the stories that went with them in the next day. But he never did. They’re really amazing pictures, and what I love about them is there’s something eerie and unusual about each one. I’ll attach mine below. Anyway, I loved my idea so much I decided to use it for NaNo.

Basically, it’s about Ariana Rose Gardener, who is just approaching her fifteenth birthday. She was born with magical powers, but she doesn’t know about them. Her mother, Alanna, predicted that an evil force called The Darkness would attempt to steal her powers by killing her daughter, so she used her own magic to hide Ariana in some wallpaper (yeah, it’s weird. Don’t judge) to keep her safe. But then Alanna is kidnapped, and so Ariana has to try to rescue her mother and destroy the Darkness for once and for all, with help from her new friend Charlotte. Also, I’m going to make the Darkness be in the form of a guy, (not sure of his name) and Ari is going to fall for him (she doesn’t know he’s evil) and it’s going to be so perfect. And he will probably end up killing himself to keep the rest of the world safe from his wrath, and maybe Ari will die, too. But not Charlotte. I like her.

My inspiration for Shattered Wings

My inspiration for Shattered Wings

First Day of NaNo AAAAAAH!

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So, I’m kind of freakoutting here. I am only getting twenty minutes of writing time today, or at least on my computer. I’ll have to do the rest by hand and type it up later.

I’ve decided to use a story idea I came up with for school for my nano novel. It’s about a girl with magical powers, and her mother, Alanna, had to hide her in some wallpaper to protect her from this evil fire guy. Wow, it sounds awful when I put it like that, but I have to start writing, so I need this post to be as quick as possible. 🙂