Oh, America

I was reading this article, and honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. No, seriously, I read through this wondering what the heck was going on with the US government. And more to the point: how the hell has this gotten so bad.

I mean really. Forced to carry a stillborn to term, because cows and pigs do? State sanctioned rape?

What the fuck, America. What the fuck.

I’ve spent my entire life knowing full well that I won’t be as good as a guy in several respects. Hell, my own parents are guilty of sexism — accidental, I’m sure, but it’s there. I’ve been passed over for things that I can do because there was a male around. I know, it sounds like bitter whining, but it’s true. In some cases, I’d done similar things, and I’d done them better than the end product of whatever guy who’d been around did.

These things happen. It’s not right, and it sucks that any woman who complains or even mentions the discrepancy about how men and women are treated is labeled a feminist — which is then immediately equated to man-hating bitch. Let’s face it: though a feminist wants equality, the feminists that get heard are the bitter ones who want a chance at being top dog, at the expense of men, who the rest of us just want to be equal to. Personally, I just want the same paycheck as the guy who does the same job. Currently, though, I’ll have to count myself lucky if I make even 80% of it.

But let’s ignore that. Let’s not take into account glass ceilings, or paycheck discrepancies, or any of that. Let’s talk about the body, and who has rights to what.

Let’s talk pregnancy.

Now, let’s face it — men aren’t carrying kids. If they did, this would probably not even be on the table right now. We wouldn’t be having this discussion. This being said — what the hell gives any man who isn’t my boyfriend, my husband, my father, or my brother the right to tell me how to live my life? And what gives any man who I don’t have such ties to the right to tell me how to be pregnant. Because that’s what’s going on, really. There are all these rules about it now, and more that are trying to crop up. And frankly, I think the whole thing is stupid — and dangerous.

Abortion. Under 18? Need your father’s permission. Rape? Doesn’t matter. Incest? Doesn’t matter. Having the child might kill you? Well, at least the kid will probably have a father. You aren’t ready for a child, and have no faith in the adoption system? No worries, babies are usually adopted quickly, if someone’s looking around that time. The child is dead or dying? Eh, carry it anyway — at least you won’t have to feel it kick.

I don’t know. That’s probably harsh of me, but the more I read about this shit, the more I dread the thought of being pregnant, to the point of being on the pill or carrying condoms for the sole purpose of in case of rape seems like a good idea. After all, if you do end up pregnant after being raped, well, that isn’t a good enough reason to not want to have the kid. Hell, you can’t even commit suicide over it if you’re pregnant — because that’s murder.

I don’t get it. Before birth, all a fetus is is a parasite. It sounds bad, but it’s true. We feed off of our mothers until… well, we still feed off of them, but it’s a different sort of feeding, a different sort of reliance after birth.

Look, at the core of it, I don’t inflict my religious beliefs on you. Why do you get to do that to me?

Power Play

Today, I chose to do the Three Word Wednesday ds106 assignment. The assignment was to go to this site and find the three words for this week and use them in some form of written work. The words for this week are control, flesh, and razor. I’m going to do the writing first, and detail the process at the end, if you don’t mind, so that anyone linking from there doesn’t have to read the entire post. It shall be brief.

Untitled

It was quiet, in this dark room, except for the muffled sobbing from the man in the chair. He had long since given up on escape — the bindings, whatever they were, cut deep into his flesh.

The other individual in the room was enjoying the sounds as he surveyed his weapons. He was done with the blunt instruments for a bit — though he did enjoy the sight of forming bruises, they did not give him the same sense of control that his sharper toys did. Walking down the line on the table, his eyes settled on the perfect blade.

He picked up the straight razor and grinned.

Fin

Sorry, it’s a bit creepy, I know.

So, process. I decided I wanted to do a writing assignment — the photography for the Daily Create is going to kill me, I’m sure. And the moment I saw the Three Word Wednesday assignment, I knew I wanted to try it. When I clicked over to see what the words were, I immediately had an idea.

I know, I went for the obvious a bit here. I was watching Criminal Minds earlier, so my first thought was serial killer. I do hope I successfully got that across, but that’s a bit difficult in 109 words, so I’m not sure I managed. Still, that’s where I was trying to go with it.

That’s really all I have to say on the subject. It occurs to me now that there were other things I could have done, but this idea wouldn’t let me go enough to think of them until after it was written. I suppose I could write them now, but I like the creepy drabble, so I don’t want to take away from it. I feel like if I write something else with the same three words that is in an entirely different direction, it will take away from what I managed to do with that. I might have to do this again, though, next week — we’ll see. I thought this one was pretty cool. If I see words next week that speak to me the same way, well, I suppose you’ll find out.

Take care!

~Ekhlami