Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Jayne Mansfield and Other Contemplations

People are talking about the coming of summer as if it's a threat. Melting off negligent fat, remembering all of the painful diets, beating themselves over food's domination in their lives. My god, we have all gone insane.


Today was rather nice. Rather, rather, nice...actually, what am I saying? I was grumpy, tired, sore from painkillers that wore off, not in a good mood (but then again, I can never be in a good-enough mood compared to people hopped up on Prozac with unnatural takes on life)..I went to school, literary sat for 6 hours...absorbed no knowledge whatsoever, walked home, contemplating life and taking Hamlet too seriously. I never did before. Somehow...to be or not to be...makes a little bit more sense now. I realized that I need to become much smarter than I am, and yet again, I am left without an answer on how to do it.


I thought about my vanity- for others, not for myself. And then I thought what would happen if suddenly, an angry rottweiler appeared out of nowhere, devoured my face, left me scarred for life. What would I have to offer then? I really don't want to know. Thank you, but no. I am too vain, Woody Allen type of vain...I am not perfect, but everybody I could possibly, hypothetically ever be involved with must be "perfect". Meh. Meh. Meh. As long as I have a choice..


Here's my nightmare:


I have actually concluded that Jayne Mansfield frightens me...a lot. How many decades did she set back women. Look pretty for your husband, keep your vaginal tract neat- the rest will come naturally. What type of mentality is that? I am tired of being presented these fabrications of femininity as the aim of what I want to aspire to. The story is old...it seems that every day they advance further, and further, and further. I am being accused of not being a feminist just because I dislike women who willingly make themselves into marketable pieces of flesh. No chauvinistic man can tell you how to be, at least not today, and if you sink low enough that some low-life person dictates what you should do with your life, how you should be- then it's your own fault. At least in the Western culture, one of the few positives I can think of, is that women have the choice of saying "fuck you buddy!" and doing their own thing. I know this is arguable, but that's my experience so far. So what if you don't get whistled at by construction workers, so what if they make fun of your frizzy hair and books? If you truly don't care, and that is how you think you should be...give them the middle finger and move on. It's your own fault if you fail and mold yourself around what they want you to be like....
I was disgusted by a guy (I was going to say man, but that's not what he is) who looks like he could be about 11 (he is actually my age, 17-18) in my art class described how his prom weekend is going to be like: "I'm gonna be surrounded by all these hot bitches...and they'll all like take off their tops...-". I nearly burst out of my seat, smacked him in the face and told him not to speak until his genitals fully develop, which they never will. Then I thought of all of those poor girls who will present their bodies like a smorgasbord for this low self esteemer, who'll put their own integrity on the line.....
Done.

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