So I was thinking about the staff member at my place that boxes. He will not go into a fight unless he is sure he will win.
When it comes to me getting into fights, I love fights I don’t think I can win. If you kick my ass, I’m coming back harder next time. I won’t give up until I do finally figure out how to beat you.
And I think that says a lot about our personalities, and why we tend to clash so damn much.
First of all, we both know he’d kick my ass in a fight. So I want to fight him. Because I live for a challenge. I live for those seemingly insurmountable obstacles. And sure, somewhere in the middle of it, I get winded (mentally or physically). I get tired of it, and I just want to quit. But I don’t. I dig down deep, and I get the job done. That’s my personality.
Him, on the other hand… He likes the path of the least resistance. He likes to just walk through it all. He doesn’t like people fighting back. He wants the sure thing every time.
Basically, he likes to exert control. I like to take it.he likes to be in control from start to finish. I like to start off without any control, so I can grow and become stronger.
Which I think makes me Goku, and him Vegeta… Vegeta is prince of the saiyans. He was born powerful. Goku became powerful.
Let me tell you something about today. Today was the hottest day of the year in New Jersey, I woke up sweating despite air conditioning because it was 95 degrees. Now, i did what any logical person would do and I put on my favorite pair of shorts so i wouldn’t be sweating throughout the day.
Even in my shorts i was sweating my balls off but I went through half of my day as normal, no boys stared at my ass or tried to grope me in public yet when i went to the the cafeteria a teacher told me to go to the office because he finds my shorts inappropriate. I head down to the office to find a group of girls wearing shorts and skirts sitting in a small room in the office, we where all ordered to call our parents or to change into the clothes they had offered us from the school store. These items of clothing included sweatpants and a large heavy sweatshirt. I obviously refused to where those because it was 95 degrees and when you are sweating the key to cool down is NOT to put on more clothes. They told me I would have to stay in that room the whole day if it came down to it.
I was able to leave the office when my friend gave me a pair of yoga pants. The man who made me go down to the office brought down several other girls as I was leaving, at this point they didn’t care how long the shorts where they just sent everyone who was wearing a pair down. They warned me that if I put my shorts back on they would right me up.
I put them back on anyway because just walking down the hallway in those yoga pants made me faint, dizzy,and extremely hot. Thats the main issue, it is hot enough for people to pass out in school but to the school system they would rather a girl suffer from a heat stroke then to have a boy become turned on. My shorts don’t say “COme fuck me in the middle of class” they say,”Its warm out”
The sexualizing of innocent students is not okay
Risking students health is not okay
and tHE LACK OF FEMINISM IN THE SCHOOL SYSTEM WILL NEVER BE OKAY
Today was literally horrible
I hate our school so much
I can’t reblog this enough omg
That’s because New Jersey sucks
It speaks volumes about the world when schools would rather risk the health, safety and lives of DFAB students then risk one distracted DMAB student. Who probably wouldn’t be distracted by legs anyways if it was that frigging hot out.
I’m sorry I hate myself. I’m sorry that I don’t see myself the way the world sees me. But I know why. The world judges me by what I do. The actions I take are generally the actions I feel will bring about the greatest good. And that’s a good thing. I am trying to make the world better. And that’s what people can see when they look at me.
I don’t see the man doing his damndest to make the world a better place. I don’t see the man who will loan a friend his last dollar so they can get something to eat. I don’t see the man who goes out of his way to help everyone. I know, objectively, I am that man.
However, when I look at me, I see what I think. I see the man who, when asked for that last dollar, thinks “Why the hell can’t you find your own dollar?” I see the man who hates the world in its current state, and would love to destroy it in the most spectacularly catastrophic way he could conceive. I see the man who still has the thoughts, upon seeing a total stranger on the bus, “I would love to bend her over and fuck her.” I see what’s inside me, and it is deplorable. I know it’s deplorable. That’s why I keep it inside, where the world as a whole can’t see it. But I see it. I kick myself every time I look at a woman and think to myself, “I bet she gives good head.” Or I see a black man and I mentally prepare myself for a fight, because society has conditioned me to see women as sexual objects, and black men as criminals.
I see that for as much as I talk about and try to make the world a better place, inside my head is a reflection of the world I so despise. It’s why I get so destructive. I see the atrocity that is my soul, and I want to rip it from my body and mangle it with my bare hands. I want to render it into an incomprehensible mess that no longer resembles its original shape. I want to make it look as unlike me as I feel it is. I want it to be impossible to mistake my repulsive soul for my own. I want my soul to match my actions. I want my mind to reflect the world I want to live in, as much as I try to ensure that my actions do. And it pisses me off that I seem unable to accomplish this.