I am sitting here thinking...
that i really should be studying...
not thinking about you.
I am sitting here thinking...
that you were a waste of my time...
all 3 years and two months of it.
I am sitting here thinking...
that you seduced me....
you weren't that good anyways.
I am sitting here thinking...
that you were not good enough for me then...
now or EVER.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Thursday, August 2, 2007
It happened.
So it happened.
Out of the blue.
At night.
On July 5th.
When I was 9.
Before it happened.
I wore pink pajamas with bunnies on them.
Not knowing I was the chosen one.
I was given a treat.
Two grape popsicles.
I had to let one melt in a cup.
And wait.
He was on the phone.
A call from abroad.
Congratulating him for being a father.
Then it happened.
I was allowed to drink my melted popsicle juice.
I brushed my teeth.
Crawled into bed.
To fall asleep.
But sleep did not come.
He came.
He came as a father.
To kiss me good night.
Or so I thought.
It did not stop there.
It went on.
He went in.
I fought.
And it went on.
I cried.
And it went on.
I closed my eyes.
And he went on.
I struggled.
And he went on.
I went numb.
After it happened.
He was done.
He woke me up.
From my numb sleep.
He asked me to get up.
To clean up.
The blood. The dirt. The guilt.
To change the sheets.
And then he brushed his teeth.
Crawled into his bed.
Smiled and said good night.
Out of the blue.
At night.
On July 5th.
When I was 9.
Before it happened.
I wore pink pajamas with bunnies on them.
Not knowing I was the chosen one.
I was given a treat.
Two grape popsicles.
I had to let one melt in a cup.
And wait.
He was on the phone.
A call from abroad.
Congratulating him for being a father.
Then it happened.
I was allowed to drink my melted popsicle juice.
I brushed my teeth.
Crawled into bed.
To fall asleep.
But sleep did not come.
He came.
He came as a father.
To kiss me good night.
Or so I thought.
It did not stop there.
It went on.
He went in.
I fought.
And it went on.
I cried.
And it went on.
I closed my eyes.
And he went on.
I struggled.
And he went on.
I went numb.
After it happened.
He was done.
He woke me up.
From my numb sleep.
He asked me to get up.
To clean up.
The blood. The dirt. The guilt.
To change the sheets.
And then he brushed his teeth.
Crawled into his bed.
Smiled and said good night.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Privilege
Something that bothers me is the concept of privilege. And the lack of acceptance around one's privileged position. We are quick in pointing out our marginalized position in society and the consequences of it. We often see ourselves as victims, but we are hesitant in accepting the fact that we are not marginalized all the time.
This sounds all very abstract. I guess I am talking about my experiences as a coloured women living in a " multicultural society". In order to be a better human being, I am going to start off by acknowledging my points of privilege:
1. Being a student & having access to education
2. Living in Canada & having the government respect my basic rights
That's all I can think of right now. So now what happens after I acknowledge my points of privilege? Acting on it to do something meaningful, I think.
This sounds all very abstract. I guess I am talking about my experiences as a coloured women living in a " multicultural society". In order to be a better human being, I am going to start off by acknowledging my points of privilege:
1. Being a student & having access to education
2. Living in Canada & having the government respect my basic rights
That's all I can think of right now. So now what happens after I acknowledge my points of privilege? Acting on it to do something meaningful, I think.
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