hopefully shit will get better and i’ll [we’ll?] stop getting caught up in this cycle of fear about fucking trump and a ton of other stuff and i can focus on school and my NaNoWriMo novel but for now:
fuck you america
Dear Mr. Trump,
I am a teenager, part of a demographic commonly overlooked due to assumptions of our decision-making ability, of our capacity to understand, of our age and presumed lack of maturity.
I also identify as female, part of a demographic commonly overlooked due to many, many years of prejudice, sexism, and people like you.
You say that you are the solution. You say that you alone will Make America Great Again. But what I don’t understand is how the hell you can utter those words when your slogan suggests reverting back to an earlier time– ‘Great Again?’ When was this country greater than it is now? The 1950’s?
You say that you will stop terrorism. I just looked up the definition of this word, the one you use so often. It is “the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims”.
To many of my friends and peers, you are more of a terrorist than anyone else. You intimidate minority groups, refugees, claim you will rip their families apart and send them far, far away for the color of their skin. You say this with a pride that comes from knowing this will help you with your “pursuit of political aims.”
I saw a picture of you holding a rainbow flag inscribed with the words “Lgbt for TRUMP”. You looked happy, if not a bit smug.
Your running mate, Mike Pence, (who reminds me of a slab of meat, for some reason, not that it’s relevant) has advocated for conversion therapy for those who do not identify as straight. If you don’t know what that is, it is essentially where you hook up wires to someone’s head and electrocute them into being heterosexual. Obviously, this is a harmful, ineffective, and scarring process, and it is considered extremely inhumane. As someone who identifies as bi, I can assure you that I do not want to be shocked into being straight, and neither does anyone else, ever, and if they do, then that’s the problem–not their sexuality. You chose Mike Pence as your running mate, therefore you believe in his ideas. You clearly do not support anyone in the LGBTQ+ spectrum, despite how many rainbow flags you hold.
Gun control. You support the second amendment, and you do not believe in background checks or gun safety laws. Your solution to the countless shootings every day by people who have a gun but shouldn’t is, simply, More Guns. Because if there’s More Guns, then obviously you can just shoot the person who was gonna shoot you, whoop de fucking doo, problem fucking solved! Yay!
The United States has the highest gun-caused homicide rates in the world. According to one statistic, these gun-caused deaths are quadruple the number of the ones in Canada, which has the second highest gun-related deaths in the world. Google it, it’s insane. And you will do nothing to help this; you’ve admitted it yourself. You don’t see a problem at all, not after Sandy Hook, Pulse, nothing.
Lastly. Maybe even most importantly. Your positions on women. Where to begin?
You have had five children by three wives. All of them have been young. All traditionally beautiful, these golden women, the kind you see in patriotic paintings, advertisements, the God Bless America types, busty, classic, dutiful, etc, etc. They each fill out the Ideal Wife stereotype. You use and have used them like props, dolls, something to show off your success.
And then there’s the rape allegations, by a woman who claims you assaulted her when she was younger than me. Thirteen. Most thirteen-year-olds are in eighth grade, just FYI. She dropped the suit after she got one too many death threats from your supporters.
There’s the tape that somehow didn’t destroy you and your campaign. Grab them by the pussy, you said, laughing, as if sexual assault was funny.
There’s the fact that you want to take away women’s abortion rights. You want to have control over what we do with our bodies.
There’s the countless beauty pageants you’ve run. You were a judge. You examined women’s looks and decided if they were pretty enough to win. You bullied the losers relentlessly.
There’s the women you called a cow after she gained too much weight for your liking.
And there was one particular woman–a strong, independent, confident woman– you called nasty.
Do you know what this tells me?
It tells me that I exist only to be a man’s accessory, if I’m hot enough. It tells me that you will do nothing for my empowerment. It tells me that my rights as a woman don’t matter to you. It tells me that I was right to have an eating disorder because my looks are the only thing that count, and if my weight exceeds your standards of pretty, I’m nothing. It tells me that you don’t give a fuck about me or what I’m worth. It tells me what women have been told for thousands of years. We are nothing but pussies on legs, yours to control, yours to have, yours to win, yours to grab.
I am so, so much more. We are so, so much more.
And if you don’t understand that–if you can’t acknowledge that–you are not my president. You are not our president.
Today, nearly my entire school–Berkeley High–walked out on you. We walked out on the fact that you won the 2016 election, we walked out on your racist, sexist, misogynistic, xenophobic bullshit. But most importantly, we walked out to show our love.
We walked as one. We celebrated our diversity, our unity, our community. We walked to show the world that we will not be silent.
There’s a kid who sits in front of me in my math class. He often wears a red sweatshirt that has a quote on the back:
“Respect existence or expect resistance”.
I think that’s pretty accurate. If you don’t acknowledge anyone other than straight white rich men as humans, if that’s your America, if that’s who you’re going to make Great, then we will not stop fighting.
I am a teenager. I was unable to vote in this election. But the winner–you–will decide my future.
Respect existence or expect resistance.
Because we have more power than you think. And we are not afraid to fucking use it. Thank you.
A teenage girl, and those whom she is trying to represent.
actually i’m not totally sure who “guys” is, as apparently my site has no readers. whatever they’ll come eventually right
everyone has a personal stereotype, as an individual. for example in eighth grade, my way of dealing with my personal shit was to act all happy all the time. i sprayed out complements like saliva. i’m grinning manically in every picture taken of me in that time period. i laughed and made jokes to project the image that i was fine (i wasn’t). so when i actually had a breakdown at any point everyone was super shocked because my stereotype was The Happy Girl Who Is Nice And Happy, Did We Mention Happy.
or like a less extreme example is that i had a friend who in freshman year wore sunglasses three consecutive days in a row, and became Sunglasses Boy. Sunglasses Boy was pretty chill and wore sunglasses. that was his stereotype. if he didn’t wear sunglasses, everyone would notice and be like oh huh where’s your sunglasses man? why aren’t you wearing them? even though he had basically only worn sunglasses once.
(people can have more than one personal stereotype–my friend was also known for having a love of thai iced teas. so he was Thai Iced Tea Kid and also Sunglasses Boy. He probably also had more.)
ok bigger picture.
a general stereotype, as you probably know, is a forced idea on a group of people. Like, Girls Like Pink And Princesses. Guys Like Trucks And Guns. And Working Out.
and there are worser (i know that’s not a word okay but it works in this situation so shut your damn grammer militia) stereotypes, racist ones, ones that are used for discrimination worldwide.
obviously, these stereotypes are horrible and offensive and not at all true.
but they exist, and it sucks.
and personal stereotypes exist too, and they suck as well, though oftentimes they aren’t quite as harmful as general ones, as they apply to one person and general ones apply to masses.
basically the point i’m trying to make is that we should not conform people to little boxes. we need to stop thinking of a person as one thing based on what we know about them, surface level.
i guess you guys already know that though. it’s just been on my mind a lot recently.
here’s a link with a video that you guys should definately watch, related to the subject.
stuck to the bottom of fall’s shoe like a nasty ass piece of gum is a Pumpkin Spice Latte. No, not just any pumpkin spice late. all the Pumpkin Spice Lattes ever made.
it all started at target, maybe two years back. it was a freezing day but for some reason i wanted something iced. so being the basic that i was (and tbh still am sometimes) i sauntered into starbucks and and bought myself a “limited edition” “perfect for fall” Pumpkin Spice Latte.
i had seen ads for them everywhere, sparked by the starbucks drink. pumpkin spiced jamba juice smoothie. pumpkin spice cookies (which are actually not bad). pumpkin spice hair dye. pumpkin spice chewing gum. (no, not making that up…)
so i eagerly watched over the counter as the barista artfully poured the orange-ish brown slushie stuff into the plastic to go mug and artfully sprayed the whip cream over that and then artfully sprinkled the cinnamon on top of the whipped cream.
she passed it to me and I paid the ten bucks or whatever the hell it costed, shoved a straw in, and took a gulp.
it tasted to me as though someone blended a cooked squash with some cardboard, and then dumped half a pound of sugar in the mix. oh yeah, and added in a few drops of “essence of wet dog”.
needless to say, it was disgusting.
and it’s not just me. i was with my friend the other day and we were just walking down the street when suddenly she decided she wanted a Pumpkin Spice Latte. as much as i tried to warn her, she dragged me to the starbucks on the corner and bought one.
i watched as she took a sip.
her eyes widened a little bit in horror.
then she speedwalked to the garbage can hole thingy by the straws and stuff and spit it all out. she tossed the rest of the drink in for good measure.
anyways the moral of whatever this is is that pumpkin spice lattes are terrible and please, do not buy them, and please, don’t hate me for this post i’m sorry if i offended your opinions…
now here’s a nice meme i found that i obviously had to use in this post.