That summer I only listened to “Ceremony” and I remember it didn’t rain. I was nineteen years old. It was the summer aft…
This might be the most brilliant thing on rape culture I’ve ever read. She says it all. Everything thought you can think about it.
"If you want men to think you’re pretty (and I do) they will often stop thinking there. If you are the only girl in a room full of men, you are always only ‘the girl.’ These are rules."
Your brain works in a funny way. You beg and plead with it to remember the little nuances while the present is still enfolding. You try to remember the colors of his shirt, the lighting in the room that hits just so. The greys of his hair mixing with the untouched strands. The sound of the voice so familiar and forgotten as it passes.You are desperate for this memory, but in few days time, it will be gone. The only thing so easily recalled is the desperation to cling onto the time you had and the moment slipped right through your fingers. It whisked right passed your eyes. It wiped right from your mind. Where is it now? Didi it ever happen?
Where has all the hope gone?