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02 October 2003 @ 05:31 am
So sad and so tired...  
There are very few things in this world that outright bother me to the point of making me sick or making me panic. At the top of the list is crowds, but coming in a close second is child abuse. And I know that watching a child be abused is not high on most people's lists of fun, but at Six Flags I can safely say I was the only person running into the back room and squeezing her eyes shut or sticking her fingers in her ears to avoid the scenes. You know: smacking, yelling, pushing, small children wailing... it just takes over and suddenly I can't breathe anymore and I'm not entirely sure why. This human instinct takes over and I just want to hug the child and tell them that I feel the same way, trust me. It's an invasion of those maternal instincts that I never thought I had.

And I've realized that I don't want to even hear someone make a joke about it, or a half-joke, or say anything like "I'd be a lousy parent; I'd probably beat my kids." This goes double for a male. Because as soon as I hear a remark like that, I get scared. My hackles rise for the children I'm not sure I'll have. And the only man I feel like I can trust almost all of the time is my father and it will only ever be my father.

I don't consider myself a feminist, but I definitely have real problems with men that I don't have with women, beyond the obvious. Unconsciously, I basically don't trust and don't like half the population based on gender alone. Boys are stupid and men are threatening and I don't really want to have my emotions and my sense of self subjected to their scrutiny. I know that there are nice men out there, but it's almost an abstract concept. What is 'nice?' Someone who doesn't hit their kids or their wife? Except that the most abusive people I have ever known have never used physical violence. I'm a gullible person, but I'm not particularly trusting... and I have been through (and have dished out) enough manipulation to know when it's happening again.

I hate being torn apart by our own jealousy and fear and selfish possessiveness and insane need for competition. I get tired of self-deprecation from the both of us and the resulting ping pong matches of insults and praise. But most of all, I just hate the mixed signals; it's like being kept in a cage. It's like being at a point where I can't move forward to where I want to go, but can't move back so I can try to start over. I just don't understand...

"We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To Thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!" - Paul Lawrence Dunbar
 
 
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