Coming back all bloody

It has been quite a bloody while since I wrote to everyone.

 

Well so far, I got myself a job. 2 weeks  +and going good, I like it here, the crowd is nice and the work, somewhat okay in my realm of shit-to-okay grading.

So far this seems good and I’ve started writing again, looks like im sort of back on track. So I don’t have much time but I want to make a repost of a note I did on my facebook titled itches #2 : On women

Also yeah Usual Disclaimer : My opinion, If you dont like, does it look like I care?

"I don’t want to sound like a feminist"

I hate that line, does it make you afraid to voice your opinion without the jeering and ridicule.

Usually I stay quiet about things, but sometimes it gets too far up there.

It’s strange that women nowadays have to be judged by the way they walk, they talk, the things they enjoy doing, the clothes they wear and the people they choose to associate with.

One thing I came across personally, and it annoys the stuffing out of me, "Oh so you are a mechanical engineer? Why did you choose that field? Isn’t it hard? " 

Buster! I chose it because I wanted to, I do not need to justify my choices to anyone other that myself. 

It’s not only for me, no matter what a woman does, there are so many out there to question and doubt for you...

Oh a civil engineer, are you sure? You will be on the field a lot? Oh a lawyer? What criminal law, won’t you be with all those murderers and rapists? Oh a doctor? Won’t you have little time for your family? Oh a political activist? That is a not a suitable field, isn’t it dangerous and troublesome? Oh a fashion designer? Are there even jobs here?

Well listen for a moment, read this words and realize

The WOMAN, she is not your ideal, she is HERS

SHE is not the damsel in distress; SHE is the DRAGONESS with her claws and breathes of fire

SHE is not the flower in the garden; SHE is the tallest tree with the DEEPEST roots

The WOMAN is not a poem in a book, a verse in a song; SHE is a SAGA and a BALLAD

This is not a note for the men, this one is for the ladies, realize that you are so much more than "their" doubts and their hopes for you.

YOU are not a marriage prospect, you are not a victim, and you are not responsible for the lusts of the ones that want to harm you or disrespect.

You are a woman, a luscious embodiment of life, you can love everyone and all, you are the reason the world exists, and you make more of us and more of them.

You are YOU. 

Whether you decide to work in a shop, a skyscraper, a cubicle, and Operation Theater or a site. Whether you wear long clothes or short. Whether you chose to have a family or work harder.

It is your choice. 

Our society has shamed women; they try to make us ashamed of being women. 

Fight. For you

Understand. For your future

Educate. For the ignorance

Found on tumblr :

Imagine this: Instead of waiting in her tower, Rapunzel slices off her long, golden hair with a carving knife, and then uses it to climb down to freedom.

Just as she’s about to take the poison apple, Snow White sees the familiar wicked glow in the old lady’s eyes, and slashes the evil queen’s throat with a pair of sewing scissors. Cinderella refuses everything but the glass slippers from her fairy godmother, crushes her stepmother’s windpipe under her heel, and the Prince falls madly in love with the mysterious girl who dons rags and blood-stained slippers.

Imagine this: Persephone goes adventuring with weapons hidden under her dress. Persephone climbs into the gaping chasm. Or, Persephone uses her hands to carve a hole down to hell. In none of these versions is Persephone’s body violated unless she asks Hades to hold her down with his horse-whips. Not once does she hold out on eating the pomegranate, instead biting into it eagerly and relishing the juice running down her chin, staining it red.In some of the stories, Hades never appears and Persephone rules the underworld with a crown of her own making.In all of them, it is widely known that the name Persephone means Bringer of Destruction.

Imagine this:Red Riding Hood marches from her grandmother’s house with a bloody wolf pelt. Medusa rights the wrongs that have been done to her.Eurydice breaks every muscle in her arms climbing out of the land of the dead.

Imagine this:Girls are allowed to think dark thoughts, and be dark things.

Imagine this:Instead of the dragon, it’s the princess with claws and fiery breathwho smashes her way from the confines of her castle and swallows men whole.

"

— 'Reinventing Rescuing,'

till next time

 

M

The Road to Gagra, Chapter 1 : Introducing Our Erstwhile Protagonist

gentle meioa’s so, I’m sort of juggling with this fic, and yes it might have a few lankan hints so yeah, enjoy, I might update this like twice weekly so lay down your thoughts on what you think and what should happed I’d like to make this an interactive thing.

The road to Gagra was a peculiar road, it was the only road in all of Tampanni, it twisted and turned and at some stretched it was so straight that you thought the very horizon stood on its edge. Now, this road is oft travelled, but never from one corner to another, this is because no one really knew where it started or where it ended, and if someone did try to find one end, they often ended up travelling for years and getting off the road for the sake of sanity and a permanent bathroom fixtures. But our protagonist is no mere mortal, she is Dammi, daughter of Thani, daughter of Maniq, so she was a mortal with a pedigree, she came from a family of adventurers, why, her oldest brother Yenu, had gone adventuring in the Kanamadiri Forest the moment he reached his man-age. And often sent home packages filled with strange aboriginal jewelry (most times curse), beaded cloths (ma said it was a death shroud) and pickled and dried body parts of the various animals found in the forest, her older sister Namu had ridden off to the plains of the Behatta desert, there she sometimes remembered to sent them a letter or two when the effects of the cactus juice wore off. Dammi’s coming of age was a big thing, being the youngest of three means, you get spoiled rotten and at the same time have high hopes, so Dammi’s parents had prepared a ship to travel from Tampanni to Ingira. Now our protagonist, she isn’t like the rest of her family you see, she’s a lot more laid back, she wouldn’t mind living alone, being catered to her every whim by oiled pretty boys, she liked power, so early on she decided to herself, I’m going to be the most powerful, the most awesome ruler of Tampanni, granted she was 8 and no one believed her, but woe to them because shortly after she turned 13, she found a sure fire way to ensure her claim of true despotism, but according to her family she had responsibilities, so she decided, will wait till my woman-age, so on the night before she turned 18, she packed a bag with her belongings, a few boxes of tea, a tin of chocolate biscuits, she kissed the cheeks of her snoring parents and sneaked off into the night on her motor-buggy.

Now the aforementioned plan to despotism, that Dammi had come about was about the potential discovery of the beginning of the route to Gagra, and also, where in the world is Gagra, she had scoured the texts, the books and questioned wise old men and fools, but no one, NO ONE, knew what, where or who , was Gagra. So she thought one day after a pondering cup of tea, “I want to own the road to Gagra.” And so it was decided.

 

~End of Chapter 1~