The Walls Have Eyes (Diary)

This is a very, very bad idea


2. May 6th, 2015

I don't f*cking get it. Over 2000 f*cking years into the Common f*cking Era and... Seriously.
What are we? Props? Tools? Inanimate items? What are we to you?
It is disgusting to think that because I'm not born with a f*cking piece of spare flesh between my legs, that I am somehow indebted to you for everything that exists in the f*cking universe. I cannot f*cking believe you, alright? You can talk all you like about how Bengali culture protects women and keeps them from being “bey sharam”, from being shameless, right, I am f*cking sick of hearing it. I'm not buying the bullsh*t that you constantly drop on all of us, alright? You were there, you stressed everyone the f*ck out, right? Everyone on her side was against it, but she went for it. For you, you scum-f*cking-- URGH!

I hate men.

God, I hate men. Just, f-- Men! (Give Eve a dime for every time a woman's said that... She'd have a tomb of gold. Better. A Shrine.) Now, I'll admit that about 30% of you are alright (that includes almost every one of you that I've met here).
Good, nice guys that should not read what I'm about to say because it doesn't apply to you at all.
The rest of you 70-f*cking-%? I hope you die the f*ck alone! No decent, self-respecting woman deserves you. No idiot bimbo deserves you either. Okay? We were not born to do your dishes, have your babies and clean the sh*t from your arse! I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with doing dishes and having babies (though that third one, that's wrong) - but we're humans too you know!


Women are humans!


Had a drink. Calmed myself down...




Kinda. You are reading this of your own accord. So...

Woke up. Got Smufsi ready for school and sent her with the walking bus. Smathim is sick, so she stayed in bed, made her some tomato soup...
Pipsqueak wanted to go out after breakfast, but we're having like April Showers (in May. English weather, am I right?), so he went in the garden, screamed when the rain poured down and raced back in. Had a cup of tea. Did the chores (sweeping, dishes, clearing the counter-tops, you know, the drill). Cut up the chicken and cooked some curry with... I think their called eddoes in English? We call them “mooki” in my language.
Had another two cups of tea...
Fed Pipsqueak (a lot of arguing and fighting involved there), then allowed him a packet of crisps. Gave Smathim some food to eat, and then took Pipsqueak upstairs to give him some milk. He's sleeping now. He's starting school in September, and I need to potty-train him. Except, he's terrified of the toilet and when he screams in the toilet you can probably hear it half-way across the neighbourhood because it echoes in our bathroom (is it just ours or is every bathroom like that?)...

And... here we are.

I'm clean.
I haven't killed anyone.
Haven't hurt myself.
That's what my day's been like. Mostly. And listening to... grousing that I, as a woman, am unappreciative of.

Look, honestly, are we just toys for you men to play with? Because Valjean has another thing coming if he has that f*cking idea in his head. And it's not just in my culture, okay? It's everywhere I look. I'll admit, yes, women are more equal in western society than in, like, Bangladesh - but I've seen things (and I think its best for all of you if I refuse to elaborate on that). Women are objectified - in TV, on the street, in high school. I went to a complete girls' school (and a religious one at that), and I'd see some of my classmates dolling themselves up (in headscarves and everything) for arsehole boys that went to a different school. And I can confirm they were, okay, I'm an arsehole. I know one when I see one.
And I was an outcast because I didn't do that (because: a. I have no interest in guys who squeal at naked mannequins in clothes' stores, and b. my parents were quite forthright about... not having a boyfriend at all until some point after my studies. I think). You know, I understand that a lot of people are bullied in school because they're LGBT? Well, I'm not, but I got called a lesbian for a whole year because I was a black sheep in a herd of hormonal idiots that thought having a boyfriend made them look good. Somehow.

I really don't get why that would make you look good. I guess it gives you something to talk about, like bragging-rights, but then... it's him using you as an object and you using him as an object (because, come on, how many high school relationships can you think of have led to a meaningful, committed relationship? There's none at all in my list) - it's a cycle of objectification.

But, back on point, I hate how women are objectified. With the exaggerated boobies and arses. We are not just a pair of tits and butt-cheeks, stop f*cking depicting us like that!
Do you have any idea as to how long I have to sit, going through Google f*cking Images to look for a nice profile picture?
I swear, it just takes years off your life. Why can't I find an Assassin girl without a boob-job? Why? How do guys manage to misinterpret armour that badly? You sh*theads know what armour is for, right? Even in, like, gaming - the higher-level armour for a woman is way skimpier than the lower-level armour.
And don't even get me started on the... erotic services. You know way I'm on about: porn, strip clubs. Some do it of their own choice, but others resort to it because of a lack in money. Do you know how sad and degrading that is? “I'll give you money, but first thrown off your clothes and dance for me”? It's practically prostitution without the actual sex.


Have I taken this too far? Am I straining an already made point?

Urgh... I'm not even going to bother with an apology. Nothing I've said is wrong (except maybe that thing about wanting people to die alone, perhaps that wasn't entirely right for me to say)...

Just feel like shaving half my hair off and seeing if that gets me kicked out of the house. Would avoid so many arguments. Eh.

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