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this is so amazing
Just this morning, I have read two articles of note. One describes a woman being harassed for expressing her opinion on rape jokes. And by harassed, I mean she was told she was too ugly to be raped or that she should be raped in a gruesome fashion. Another article discussed African Americans being four times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than whites. What I think frustrates me more than the nature of the articles themselves is the comments. Not only will people argue with facts, they will do so with a condescending tone towards the writer of the article, as if his or her point of view is completely invalid.
There is this downright refusal on the part of certain individuals (and yes, I’m going to say that they are predominantly white males) to “walk in another person’s shoes.” To see the world find humor in the degradation of your body. To notice people stare at you every day, hoping to catch you in an illegal act and validate their concern, based solely on the color of your skin and the way you dress. Only when some injustice happens to you do you complain. And once it’s rectified, you move on while the hypocrisy lingers.
I’m sick and tired of it. Call me a liberal piece of shit. Tell me “it is what it is.” I dare you. Because I’m done being nice. I’m done just making a joke about it. I’m open to engaging in dialogue, certainly, but I demand you approach it with respect for me and for yourself. Jordan Young has finally figured out what he’s passionate about. Deal with it.
The desert air ravaged her face. What was once a temple of divinity now lay wrinkled and grotesque. I tell her every night that she is the woman whose beauty leaves Cleopatra entwined with envy. So we progress forward, my wife with her frail verisimilitude.
Thought about you again
And that text that I didn’t send
I just spent two days
Editing my flow
As it comes to a boil
And I let off steam
I could scream
Like a month ago
But the words aren’t the same
Cuz they’re not obscene!
My whole edge is intact though,
I’ll wipe the floor with you whore
If you call me Mr. Clean.
And when I pray
I just pray
I will take you back
From that place
Not leaving them
A single trace
Of what you did
And your disgrace
When you gave up
On this human race
Lost the chase
Thinking you can just
Show your face
What a waste
And if you think this is a case by case
You’re just a fucking sadist!
All I really wanted from you
It just isn’t safe
But I do know
We’ll reach for a different day
There’s the love song
That will never play
In the jukebox
Like a track off the track
It’s so insane
Never comin back
On a runaway train.
“Be water my friend. Or, perhaps, be in water.”
Sarah Komen grabs the ledge of the pool to stay above water. The shadow offers his hand to her. She offers a light, meager smile as she pushes off the wall and returns to the swimming. Her strides are long and meticulous, perfect by any standards. She reaches the other end of the pool in mere seconds. A few seconds more, and she is back to the point of origin. She once again grabs the ledge to find the shadow no longer offering his assistance. His arms are crossed, and he is shaking his head.
“It’s a shame,” he says, “all that talent being wasted at this level. You should be swimming for medals, not scholarships.”
“Thanks,” replies Sarah. She chooses not to look eye to eye with this mysterious stranger.
The shadow kneels down besides the pool. He reaches towards the water beside her, but Sarah still flinches. He makes a little circle with his index finger.
“Don’t worry Sarah, I’ve taken care of your father.”
Sarah perks up at this news. Her face is bemused, but the shadow’s smile comforts her almost immediately.
“Sarah, I think it’s time you put your talents to better use. No more laps in the kiddie pool.”
The shadow offers his hand once again. She takes it and allows him to pull her up. Sarah’s slim figure in the one-piece and brunette hair glisten as the water drips from her body. The shadow releases his grip and walks over to grab a towel. He throws it towards Sarah.
“Make sure you dry yourself completely. Wouldn’t want to dampen the limousine when it gets here.”
Sarah knows she should be skeptical, but she can’t help but feel comfortable with this man. His demeanor welcomes her like no one ever has. She proceeds to dry herself off.
“Oh, one more thing.”
The shadow walks over and hugs Sarah. She drops the towel and slowly embraces him. The water is cold, but the warmth of the hug heats Sarah’s heart. She reluctantly lets go as the shadow pulls away.
“Get dressed Sarah. I’ll meet you outside.”
The shadow walks away. Sarah stands there with the towel at her feet. Her brain is telling her to be careful. But her broken heart pushes her forward. It feels right.