“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.
You are in a garden, and you are astonished.
Anonymous asked: So, if boobs aren't sex organs like all you feminists claim, then what's wrong with commenting on them? If you have purple hair, I'm going to mention it! If you have giant boobs, I'm going to mention it! If they're not sexual, then what's your problem?
Translation: I don’t understand the difference between sex organs and secondary sex characteristics, nor do I understand how society has coded certain secondary sex characteristics to be sexual while others are left “neutral.” I also don’t understand how I am drawing a false equivalency between hair and breasts, as only one has been sexualized within Western cultures, and I’m really desperate to justify my own obsession with sexually harassing women.
remember this petulant bun