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What bothers me about gender being Male-Female only according to society is that you will never really be free from it, it will always haunt you even in the words you use or hear.

So let's start with words. In Spanish, adjectives have the gender-specific vowel: -a for female, -o for male. So you can say a woman is hermosa (beautiful) but you can't say a man is hermoso because omg das so gay. The word perro (male dog) means the animal, while perra means bitch. To take it a step further with adjectives, female adjectives are always words which give an inferiority to the noun: only a year ago you could still find in the Diccionario de la Real Academia Española (freak out, it's the official Spanish dictionary all the way from frikkin' Spain!) certain definitions like "Women: fragile, weak, not a man, less than a man" and "Men: strong, large, first human being created by God" or something. I nearly fell off my chair laughing. And then I cried, because it's incredibly stupid and sexist.

Words are hurtful. Words have consequences. We all should use words carefully. 

Chile is a very sexist country. This Summer there was an ad on the telly about a girl talking to her friends about how "hard" her boyfriend "worked" during Summer vacations, then cut to this boy "working hard" at a local theme park, snapping pics with his phone of women's breasts. Oh, yeah, that's what I call "earning your payment". Then cut to his friends ranking the girls' breasts. Hey... DOESN'T THAT SOUND JUST LIKE DON JON ?????

So a few months ago I decided I wasn't going to keep quiet about men shouting at me or staring at my breasts or telling me I have a huge ass (like I don't know, jerk), so I've been talking back. A typical situation usually goes with me walking, some man saying something from the safety of his car, me not being able to say something back to instead I just flip a finger. A friend of mine was once told a 30-centimeter cock would do her body a favour, and she stared at the man and gestured 30 centimeters, then pointed at him and laughed her ass off. Another friend had to punch a guy in the face, right before pepper-spraying him, then running away... at noon.

And you know what.

They totally do not expect a verbal response (let alone a physical one, which is dangerous because they can kick you back) and sometimes it's hilarious to see their faces going "But... but... you're--you're supposed to--that's not--wha--"

Problem is that it doesn't make any difference. I do feel better, I feel like I've avenged myself and there's a certain sense of satisfaction in that, but it's still a thing that happens every day. 

Every day sexism is embedded in the words my father says to me and my little sister: if we don't get married, we'll prostitute ourselves for money. His sexism is clear in the way he says: wife or whore. My brother's sexism is clear in the way he says: if my wife earns more money than I do I'll divorce her. It's clear in the way you hear him talk to his girlfriend: you won't go because I don't want you to. 

Every day sexism is obvious even in little actions like "Let the man of the house do it, you'll break your nails".

Fortunately for me, I'm currently in a relationship with a man who fully supports my feminism and my feminist rants and who hates it when I'm really pissed off because some asshole thought I gave a fuck about what was going through his mind (or his penis) and put together some idiotic words and shouted them at me. This happens. On a daily basis. 

And this is a gender thing. This is the society that's raised us girls quiets, compliants, with our heads low, our mouths shut, and our legs open for any moron who puts a fucking ring on our fingers. We don't know better because we weren't taught. Some of us learn by ourselves. Some aren't lucky enough. Some pay the consequences with their lives.

The consequences of gender being only Male-Female affect all of us. I can only speak from my point of view, but if you tell your son boys don't cry you're gonna end up with a man who will have never learned to express his emotions in a healthy way. If you tell your son he'll put his family to shame for not liking girls you're gonna end up with a man filled with guilt if he ever realizes he's gay.

Speaking from my own experience with extremely religious parents, I never had a boyfriend until now and my parents were worried I may have been a lesbian. If that had been the case, they would've kicked me out in a second. Even today, with this relationship that's been going on for nearly six months, I'm still not sure. I don't love this man because he is a man: I love him because of the person he is, because he respects me and loves me, and because he is not a fucking piece of shit who will hit me because I don't obey him, and so many more reasons. And I know in my mind that if he'd been a woman, I would've still fallen in love with her if all that ever changed were what's under his pants. 

I know that.

But my extremely religious parents raised in an extremely religious and sexist society would kick me out of the house they raised me in just because of what I want is not what I should want according to my gender.

It's a problem that's been going on for so long there will never be a solution to it. It's everywhere. The world would have to end and all of us would have to die with it for this to be over. 

May the universe never remember us and our stupidity.

Stay tuned for another rant. I'm going to bed now.

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Hear me out:

A pub, a bunch of people, everyone has a story to tell, and everyone has a camera to record it. So, basically, it's like home-made stand-up comedy except it isn't comedy because you can tell whatever kind of story you wanna tell.

And it's a Live Collab because, well, it should be recorded live. And ideally in a pub, or wherever a bunch of people can get together and drink and tell stories.

by deeasherself ago
by deeasherself ago

I do not.

I read in a book once that a philosopher (can't remember which) had this one-man theory. According to it, we are all One, the same soul, living different lives at different points throughout History. I don't remember the context of his theory or the rest of the book for that matter, but to answer the question: no, I don't believe we're One.

While anyone with a highly metaphysical point of view on life regarding the immortality of souls would probably tell me to go fuck myself (maybe in kind words), I can't really wrap my head...

Sarah had been watching the spider closely before setting it on fire. She didn't mind bugs; after all, they were basically her neighbours, living right there with them at the edge of the universe.

"Stop that" said her little brother Sam, eyes set on the burning creature. But Sarah didn't stop. "I'll call mom" he said to defend himself.

"So call her" replied Sarah, but Sam didn't, he just watched.

When all that was left were ahses, Sarah left, but Sam stayed. He blew them away and made a wish upon their dying star.

by deeasherself ago


A mother and her daughter sit together, arms wrapped around one another in a tight hug. The little girl sobs, face hidden in her mother’s scarf.


When I was eight, my younger brother was involved in an accident in which he broke his legs. All I did was cry; I was too scared to do anything else.


Mother and daughter holding hands, walking to their car.


I remember that day clearly:

(2a) FROM INSIDE THE CAR: the back of the ambulance driving and the loud noise...

by deeasherself ago

Not really.

Nor is my mom.

Or my brother.

Or me.

Or my sister.

Or the cat.

None of us is a scientist.


But we sure as fuckin' hell try.