Oats with the best radbabe for breakfast, then a cuppa in the sun with @jencloher’s new album- loveliest way to start the day! ^_^ #milkrecords
⚡ HISS LYFE ⚡
sometimes i just get so tired of
• feeling like every day is a battle
• realising how dramatic that sounds
i also try to be aware that everyone has days that are a battle. everyfuckingone. it’s just a part of having the brains and bodies we do.
also i remind myself that the men i am close to are wonderful, and as for the ones who aren’t— i have no fucking obligation to ever talk to or see them again. simple things like that sometimes slip my mind.
i had a panic attack in the city today when i was on my own, and it somehow took me 1.5 hours to get from lonsdale st to brunswick st because i was too busy hyperventilating and shaking and being scared of everyone who looked at me.
cmdr megababe hugged me and put me to sleep on a couch at his work and then eventually i was okay, but holy fuck it was just so draining. it always is, and i get so frustrated by it!
it is time for me to fix myself! do a thing, write a thing, take those photos, start systema, make a musics, burn some shit down and do a hiss.
For months, every morning when my daughter was in preschool, I watched her construct an elaborate castle out of blocks, colorful plastic discs, bits of rope, ribbons and feathers, only to have the same little boy gleefully destroy it within seconds of its completion.
No matter how many times he did it, his parents never swooped in BEFORE the morning’s live 3-D reenactment of “Invasion of AstroMonster.” This is what they’d say repeatedly:
“You know! Boys will be boys!”
“He’s just going through a phase!”
“He’s such a boy! He LOVES destroying things!”
“Oh my god! Girls and boys are SO different!”
“He. Just. Can’t. Help himself!”
I tried to teach my daughter how to stop this from happening. She asked him politely not to do it. We talked about some things she might do. She moved where she built. She stood in his way. She built a stronger foundation to the castle, so that, if he did get to it, she wouldn’t have to rebuild the whole thing. In the meantime, I imagine his parents thinking, “What red-blooded boy wouldn’t knock it down?”
She built a beautiful, glittery castle in a public space.
It was so tempting.
He just couldn’t control himself and, being a boy, had violent inclinations.
Her consent didn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like she made a big fuss when he knocked it down. It wasn’t a “legitimate” knocking over if she didn’t throw a tantrum.
His desire — for power, destruction, control, whatever- - was understandable.
Maybe she “shouldn’t have gone to preschool” at all. OR, better if she just kept her building activities to home.
I know it’s a lurid metaphor, but I taught my daughter the preschool block precursor of don’t “get raped” and this child, Boy #1, did not learn the preschool equivalent of “don’t rape.”
Not once did his parents talk to him about invading another person’s space and claiming for his own purposes something that was not his to claim. Respect for her and her work and words was not something he was learning. How much of the boy’s behavior in coming years would be excused in these ways, be calibrated to meet these expectations and enforce the “rules” his parents kept repeating?
There was another boy who, similarly, decided to knock down her castle one day. When he did it his mother took him in hand, explained to him that it was not his to destroy, asked him how he thought my daughter felt after working so hard on her building and walked over with him so he could apologize. That probably wasn’t much fun for him, but he did not do it again.
There was a third child. He was really smart. He asked if he could knock her building down. She, beneficent ruler of all pre-circle-time castle construction, said yes… but only after she was done building it and said it was OK. They worked out a plan together and eventually he started building things with her and they would both knock the thing down with unadulterated joy. You can’t make this stuff up.
Take each of these three boys and consider what he might do when he’s older, say, at college, drunk at a party, mad at an ex-girlfriend who rebuffs him and uses words that she expects will be meaningful and respecte, “No, I don’t want to. Stop. Leave.”
The “overarching attitudinal characteristic” of abusive men is entitlement.
the—pits replied to your post: There is a man on this train eating a lime like an…
does that include the rind?
RIND AND ALL.
My dumb friend is dumb leaving, what an idiot. Up yours, James. @jimmahtro (at Melbourne International Departures Lounge)
Goodbye Jemithy 😰 (at Melbourne Airport (MEL))
There is a man on this train eating a lime like an apple.