This idea that society imposes rigid expectations on us that we must conform to ,,, we mostly hear this from people who are determined to believe themselves oppressed and appear to be getting some perverse validation from the idea.
Most of us got over this "Ward and June" white picket fence thing, oh, about fifty years ago.
This idea that society imposes rigid expectations on us that we must conform to ,,, we mostly hear this from people who are determined to believe themselves oppressed and appear to be getting some perverse validation from the idea.
Most of us got over this "Ward and June" white picket fence thing, oh, about fifty years ago.
I don't smile. I will laugh at a joke, smile at a compliment or learning I've won the lottery or seeing an SUV that zoomed past everyone on the highway now overturned by the road and the driver clutching his head ... OK ... but anyone who tells me I should run around beaming at the air like Vietnamese girls do can just fuck the fuck off.
Difference, is, I don't write handkerchief-wringing articles about it nor do I lie in bed looping on thoughts of oppression because people who mean nothing to me think I should smile more. I'll smile if and when I feel like it, even if that ends up being never.
Oh, oh, oh, I decided yesterday I'm trans and my friends still refer to me as "she." Where's that razor blade?
This idea that society imposes rigid expectations on us that we must conform to ,,, we mostly hear this from people who are determined to believe themselves oppressed and appear to be getting some perverse validation from the idea.
Most of us got over this "Ward and June" white picket fence thing, oh, about fifty years ago.
I don't smile. I will laugh at a joke, smile at a compliment or learning I've won the lottery or seeing an SUV that zoomed past everyone on the highway now overturned by the road and the driver clutching his head ... OK ... but anyone who tells me I should run around beaming at the air like Vietnamese girls do can just fuck the fuck off.
Difference, is, I don't write handkerchief-wringing articles about it nor do I lie in bed looping on thoughts of oppression because people who mean nothing to me think I should smile more. I'll smile if and when I feel like it, even if that ends up being never.
Oh, oh, oh, I decided yesterday I'm trans and my friends still refer to me as "she." Where's that razor blade?
Rubbish.
One makes one's choices. One lives with one's consequences. That so hard to believe?
I'm guessing... Going out on a limb. Guessin' You'd say "no," but ICBW, 'course.