Boning
Boning

Boning

Claire
Claire

Claire

Hurtfully
Hurtfully

Hurtfully

never give up
 never give up

never give up

humiliate
 humiliate

humiliate

momentous
momentous

momentous

happen
happen

happen

comely
comely

comely

reddi
reddi

reddi

yours
yours

yours

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Bad, Bitch, and Friends: Lara Witt @Femmefeministe We shouldn't have to out ourselves as survivors in order for people to grasp the magnitude of how systemic assault & harassment are. #MeToo 10/15/17, 7:07 PM This is not to say that MeToo is a bad thing at all; just that, once again, the burden falls on the oppressed group (people who have been assaulted-harassed) to appeal to the moral sense of their oppressors. @femmefeministe explains, "Each time I pour my soul into a piece about assault, I draw out words and put them together with the hope that someone will feel connected or some sense of solidarity. I write for victims, but I also write for those who don’t know what it’s like, I have written with the hope that those of you who have never felt themselves shredded and stripped of their autonomy will hear us and fight alongside us because we need more people to stand up against rape culture. We march, we carry signs, we hold hands, we cry, we scream — but who’s listening? Sometimes it feels as if no matter how many times we write our stories, no matter how many statistics we show you, you don’t really care. For a moment you ingest our pain; you read details and see flashes of images pushed into the sentences we stitch together. Perhaps you almost feel a sense of revulsion, or even guilt. You think we were raped by monsters, but the people in our nightmares are people like your fathers, your brothers, your friends... How many stories will we have to write for you to care? Or have you read too many of our horrors? Are you desensitized now? Your friend made a rape joke, but hey, he’s a good guy. Right? I won’t tell you about the person who destroyed me. I won’t tell you about the scars. I won’t tell you about the night terrors or the depression or the anxiety or loneliness — because, to you, I’m just another bitch who was probably asking for it. I’m a statistic you will forget, these words of mine, you will forget but I will go back to bed and not have the luxury of forgetting. I am tired of proving to you just how difficult it is to recover. I cannot do that labor anymore. The numbers are out there for you to research: the essays, the songs, the art and the speeches are there for you to absorb and carry within your heart so that perhaps one day you can find the time to actually help us dismantle rape culture.”
Bad, Bitch, and Friends: Lara Witt
 @Femmefeministe
 We shouldn't have to out
 ourselves as survivors in order
 for people to grasp the
 magnitude of how systemic
 assault & harassment are.
 #MeToo
 10/15/17, 7:07 PM
This is not to say that MeToo is a bad thing at all; just that, once again, the burden falls on the oppressed group (people who have been assaulted-harassed) to appeal to the moral sense of their oppressors. @femmefeministe explains, "Each time I pour my soul into a piece about assault, I draw out words and put them together with the hope that someone will feel connected or some sense of solidarity. I write for victims, but I also write for those who don’t know what it’s like, I have written with the hope that those of you who have never felt themselves shredded and stripped of their autonomy will hear us and fight alongside us because we need more people to stand up against rape culture. We march, we carry signs, we hold hands, we cry, we scream — but who’s listening? Sometimes it feels as if no matter how many times we write our stories, no matter how many statistics we show you, you don’t really care. For a moment you ingest our pain; you read details and see flashes of images pushed into the sentences we stitch together. Perhaps you almost feel a sense of revulsion, or even guilt. You think we were raped by monsters, but the people in our nightmares are people like your fathers, your brothers, your friends... How many stories will we have to write for you to care? Or have you read too many of our horrors? Are you desensitized now? Your friend made a rape joke, but hey, he’s a good guy. Right? I won’t tell you about the person who destroyed me. I won’t tell you about the scars. I won’t tell you about the night terrors or the depression or the anxiety or loneliness — because, to you, I’m just another bitch who was probably asking for it. I’m a statistic you will forget, these words of mine, you will forget but I will go back to bed and not have the luxury of forgetting. I am tired of proving to you just how difficult it is to recover. I cannot do that labor anymore. The numbers are out there for you to research: the essays, the songs, the art and the speeches are there for you to absorb and carry within your heart so that perhaps one day you can find the time to actually help us dismantle rape culture.”

This is not to say that MeToo is a bad thing at all; just that, once again, the burden falls on the oppressed group (people who have been as...

Being Alone, Ass, and Bad: I'm a 21 year-old male. I was out running my 2 miles. Headphones in, music playing, minding my own business. I round the corner at about the halfway point of the run and I see this big black duck looking at me. As I get closer, think to myself, "Man, that's a brave duck, why isn't he running away?" I keep running and realize the duck not only isn't afraid of me or running away, he's running right at me. So I stop and squat down, thinking maybe he was hurt and needed help or something. This bitch ass giant fucking black duck takes a huge bite out of my leg. Like, not playing, drew blood kinda bite I'm thinking to myself, "What the fuck?" So I'm like, maybe he's just an asshole and I keep running think he will leave me alone. I start running again and the faster Irun, the faster he chases me. I start sprinting and he is literally flying behind me attacking me. I'm thinking, "Ive got enough fucking problems in my life as it is man, I dont need this shit so I stop running again kinda like in disbelief trying to figure out what to do. In all my years of being a person, Ive never trained for this This little punk ass duck is chomping on my ankles and it's actually really hurting. He starts grabbing my shoelaces and untying them as I'm trying to run backwards away from him. Weve covered a quarter mile at this point. I try picking him up and throwing him back away from me every time he lunges for blood. I'm thinking, "How the fuck am I gonna explain this if I have to go to the doctor for a duck attack? I'm a grown ass man. This isbullshit." I try running again and he keeps flying after me. I'm at a loss. I dont know what to do at this point. I'm manage to get my phone and start texting my girlfriend, asking her what to do. Am I really gonna have to kill this duck to get away? Like, I don't want to, but I might have to actually fucking kick this duck or grab it by the neck? Seriously?" We have covered 3/4 of a mile at this point. He bites me again and I drop my phone. I pick it up quickly. Who do I call? I've got fucking scars and cuts all over me. While I'm debating whether stand-your-ground laws apply to ducks, I hear a noise; Someone else was outside walking on an adjacent street and came to see what all of the commotion was This was a big mistake. The duck smelled blood, and gave up attacking me to chase after my savior. I saw my window and booked it home running the last half mile in 2:50 flat. I feel kinda bad, that duck has probably killed that dude by now. The last saw of him was the look I took over my shoulder running away as he made the same mistake I did, looking down to see if the duck was hurt worth the read
Being Alone, Ass, and Bad: I'm a 21 year-old male. I was out running my 2 miles. Headphones in, music playing, minding my own
 business. I round the corner at about the halfway point of the run and I see this big black duck looking at
 me. As I get closer, think to myself, "Man, that's a brave duck, why isn't he running away?" I keep running
 and realize the duck not only isn't afraid of me or running away, he's running right at me. So I stop and
 squat down, thinking maybe he was hurt and needed help or something. This bitch ass giant fucking black
 duck takes a huge bite out of my leg. Like, not playing, drew blood kinda bite
 I'm thinking to myself, "What the fuck?" So I'm like, maybe he's just an asshole and I keep running think he
 will leave me alone. I start running again and the faster Irun, the faster he chases me. I start sprinting and
 he is literally flying behind me attacking me. I'm thinking, "Ive got enough fucking problems in my life as it is
 man, I dont need this shit so I stop running again kinda like in disbelief trying to figure out what to do. In all
 my years of being a person, Ive never trained for this
 This little punk ass duck is chomping on my ankles and it's actually really hurting. He starts grabbing my
 shoelaces and untying them as I'm trying to run backwards away from him. Weve covered a quarter mile at
 this point. I try picking him up and throwing him back away from me every time he lunges for blood. I'm
 thinking, "How the fuck am I gonna explain this if I have to go to the doctor for a duck attack? I'm a grown
 ass man. This isbullshit."
 I try running again and he keeps flying after me. I'm at a loss. I dont know what to do at this point. I'm
 manage to get my phone and start texting my girlfriend, asking her what to do. Am I really gonna have to
 kill this duck to get away? Like, I don't want to, but I might have to actually fucking kick this duck or grab it
 by the neck? Seriously?" We have covered 3/4 of a mile at this point. He bites me again and I drop my
 phone. I pick it up quickly. Who do I call? I've got fucking scars and cuts all over me. While I'm debating
 whether stand-your-ground laws apply to ducks, I hear a noise; Someone else was outside walking on an
 adjacent street and came to see what all of the commotion was
 This was a big mistake. The duck smelled blood, and gave up attacking me to chase after my savior. I saw
 my window and booked it home running the last half mile in 2:50 flat. I feel kinda bad, that duck has
 probably killed that dude by now. The last saw of him was the look I took over my shoulder running away
 as he made the same mistake I did, looking down to see if the duck was hurt
worth the read

worth the read