Me Too – And Hear Me Out

I learned about the terminology “Thirst trap” from my brother the other day. (I still laugh at those words, by the way.) All the brave women coming clean about their sexual assault or harassment experience these past weeks made me, once again, think of this social media–especially Instagram–slang.

There’s this short story I read on Twitter by a woman who, when she was a teenager, was raped by a group of human waste (they don’t deserve to be called men). She never told anyone about what happened and said that she had gotten in a fight when asked about her bruises. My guess is that she never spoke out because of shame. (SHE felt shame, when it should’ve been the other way around.) She said that she only told her mom in recent years, I think in her 30s, and that the first question her mom asked was, “What were you wearing?

What a chilling response… and to hear it from her own mother. My heart shatters for women like her because there is this incredible amount of pressure and BLAME put on us women, on any victim; there’s this belief in our society that WE are responsible for, not only our behavior but also for men’s behavior. It’s been said a million times, but I’ll say it again: a woman isn’t asking for “it” when she dresses provocatively.

Regardless, no matter the reason for a woman to show a lot of skin, never blame her for the actions a man takes. No one is putting a gun to that man’s head forcing him to do the unthinkable. There’s this thing called SELF-CONTROL and, dammit, common sense?? Practice it! It is men’s responsibility, not ours, to control their “thirsty” selves. Remember that.

Thank you to all the brave women sharing their stories. Keeping quiet only allows for more assaults, sometimes even by the same perpetrator. You  are loved, and remember it was not your fault.

So, fellas, are you with me?

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Across the Bed

Why do you think we lie on our back sometimes across the bed when for answers we search? Arms spread out, down in defeat, as if by doing so the world would change a thing. Is it because it feels like the most comforting thing ever, or is it because we think the ceiling can hear us, can talk? Maybe baring our souls to the unknown gives us some weird kind of hope?

I have more questions than answers. Thus, if you do know, say so.

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Rain, Rain, Don’t Go Away

love the rain

We don’t have to wish it away for it often brings renewed thoughts and stems. Sure it’s already autumn and you’d rather see the leaves fall than rain drops cause frizz and chaos. The streets filled with fast-moving folks looking for shelter for their unadventurous souls.

Fire can burn, but rain; rain is my friend.

There’s no more comforting, inspiring sound or view to me than the rain on my window pane. It can be overwhelming — with homesickness, reminiscence, warmth, motivation, happiness and nostalgia all hitting at once. But, it is the best mood setter. (Just don’t ask me to drive places.) Remix it with the sound of an acoustic guitar and, I am going nowhere. Dear rain, you can stay.

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Your Secret is Safe with Me (But We All Know)

Your Secret is Safe with Me

How many haven’t heard a friend say those words before — in person, over the phone? While on speakerphone… I’ve learned the hard way that the best kept secret is that which never leaves your big mouth. It is extremely likely that your BFF is not my BFF, and if I trust you, it is because you’ve passed the years-long arduous trustworthiness test, and I fully expect you to abide by these unwritten rules of confidentiality.

Let this be a reminder to us all that the secrets we promise to hold aren’t up for show.

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Autumn Speaks

By the fire

To feel your flame fanning my feet. It’s these little moments for which I live. As long as I can do this, it is not so bad that the pages of my calendar have turned to October and the marble floors are a frozen sea. As long as I can do this, let that inevitable cycle go on again and again.

‘Long as I can turn on the heat.

Staring into a volcano; getting lost in my thoughts, wishing it didn’t burn to feel you so close. Like the rain, you make me find words in my head very deep. Our chemistry helps me breathe. Here, nothing matters. My Raynaud’s is forgotten. Just as pumpkin-cinnamon-apple-spice is a cliché, you are worth the repeat.

But I’ll run away. Unfortunately, sometimes, I’ll leave. Nothing’s perfect, you see. Though the moment equals infinity, your flame is short-lived. Promises should be eternal. I’ll be searching for the conditional warmth that your current brings across other unconditional seas.

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Bad-Ass Pope

Por favor, nunca se avergüencen de sus tradiciones.

“Never be ashamed of your traditions/roots.”

That was one of Pope Francis’ messages [on immigration] today — one of the many about-time-affirmations he’s made on behalf of the Catholic church.

The main roads and bridges are shut down in Philadelphia due to the Papal visit; I can’t go too far on this Saturday night. I turned on the TV and every channel seemed to be broadcasting the event. People, my mom included, are very excited about the Pope coming to town. So, in the end, I ended up joining the hype.

The funny thing is that, in case you didn’t know, I’m not a religious person at all, even though I was raised Catholic. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t identify a good Samaritan when I see one!

After following random bits of news about the Pope for a while, and watching him today, I can say that Papa Francisco sounds like a hell of a liberal (which I identify with), a realist, and an influential powerful individual. An incredibly passionate advocate of human rights, for sure, and, may I say a funny man?! I really like people who use their power to change the world in a positive way, so I felt inspired to sketch him today.

It won’t change the way I feel about religion, but it truly is nice to see. This world needs more of that, more goodness.

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