I hate New Year
It's been a while since I want to talk about feminism. Of the word emaciated, become in the mouths of certain documentation of insult, frustration, or poor sex. That dirty word that is like an old "ism" of the postwar period, the word dykes, ugly, and whores. It is true that since I study, I found some theorists that are beyond the caricature, and all of whose arguments are right for me or touch me. Yet, I remain attached to that word. This beautiful idea.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Can Nintendogs Fall In Love
What is today, being a feminist?
What is
for me? 
Use of the word feminism 
Unfortunately for idealists, I am among those who think that all the walls are not cut down on the release of my sex. And fortunately so, because in this I consider myself perfectly lucid. And necessary. When I think of my guy 60% of the time, I wonder where my feminism. When I watch Gossip Girl, the same. When I guess it's me who will work less if I have a kid, too. When I know my sacrifices of the past, present and future, I wonder what drawer I put it, my feminism.
Feminism is a great concept, still in progress, always digging, to refresh. Very difficult to grasp at one end. There, I just. If the cultural and social history clearly points inequalities, atrocities, disparities between men and women (I will not elaborate here, is not my point), there is a repressive culture of women more deeply rooted, and that touches me especially: one that denies women their basic nature. To that few laws still apply. No penalties or fines.
What is the true nature of a woman? I frankly do not know, and I hope that the impediments, negations, sticks in the wheels of a masculine society will not determine the negative that we are each individually.
If I had not a grain, I probably would not have been a feminist. If I was not crazy, as men see fit, such as those interning women fit, as those who insult women fit, such as those that define the dictionaries think, I would not perhaps not a feminist.
I was born with a serious voice, broken. To make myself understood, break.
I was raised as a savage who has always felt free enough to say always loud and clear what she thinks, and I've never understood the politeness, if not respect. Politeness to respect the old connes, smiles for assholes to close my legs, knees shake, shut my mouth and bite the bullet, do not know.
Being feminist, wanting to give meaning to an outdated concept for the ignorant majority is continually fight prejudice that attaches to the character of the woman at this fucking
eternal feminine
that strangles us.
No, I'm not soft. Neither patient. I do not sew. Neither do the cleaning properly. I do not want to get up at night to change the diaper. It does not seem natural, or at my own birth.
importantly, I take insults continually bring you kindly created for women to avoid therefore be what I am: a harpy, a shrew, a bitch, a pain in the ass, a castrating.
It's all me. This is not the word feminism not stick, but persistent belief and fear of those terrible words embody that. The shrew is a woman who takes care of things around him, the harpy, a woman who fights back. A pain in the ass, a woman who is, a slut, which pays a good time.
And castrating the day today is a free woman. Point. 
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