“It’s a form of violence, in the way that we look at women and how we expect them to look and be - for what sake?" she said. "Not health, not survival, not enjoyment of life but just so you could look pretty. I’m constantly telling girls all the time, ‘Everything’s airbrushed, everything’s retouched. None of us look like that.’”— Rosario Dawson Love, forever.
“Rape culture is telling girls and women to be careful about what you wear, how you wear it, how you carry yourself, where you walk, when you walk there, with whom you walk, whom you trust, what you do, where you do it, with whom you do it, what you drink, how much you drink, whether you make eye contact, if you’re alone, if you’re with a stranger, if you’re in a group, if you’re in a group of strangers, if it’s dark, if the area is unfamiliar, if you’re carrying something, how you carry it, what kind of shoes you’re wearing in case you have to run, what kind of purse you carry, what jewelry you wear, what time it is, what street it is, what environment it is, how many people you sleep with, what kind of people you sleep with, who your friends are, to whom you give your number, who’s around when the delivery guy comes, to get an apartment where you can see who’s at the door before they can see you, to check before you open the door to the delivery guy, to own a dog or a dog-sound-making machine, to get a roommate, to take self-defense, to always be alert always pay attention always watch your back always be aware of your surroundings and never let your guard down for a moment lest you be sexually assaulted and if you are and didn’t follow all the rules it’s your fault.”—This is a damn good read. (via ammywhammy)
“I’m tired of you my fellow feminists because of your Islamophobia. Your bigotry has turned me into an islamist with no faith and no spirituality. I’m tired of the weight on my shoulder for being a veiled queer woman that was not oppressed by her veil or her parents but was simply oppressed by ideas and the restrictions you put on me; where I had to love my veil just for it to be in the face of all the ideologies that say: “veils oppressed women.”—
Pedro Algorta, a lawyer, showed me the fat dossier about the murder of two women. The double crime had been committed with a knife at the end of 1982, in a Montevideo suburb.
The accused, Alma Di Agosto, had confessed. She had been in jail more than a year, & she was apparently condemned to rot there for the rest of her life.
As is the custom, the police had raped & tortured her. After a month of continuous beatings they had extracted several confessions.
Alma Di Agosto’s confessions did not much resemble each other, as she had committed the same murder in many different ways. Different people appeared in each confession, picturesque phantoms without names or addresses, because the electric cattle prod turns anyone into a prolific storyteller.
Furthermore, the author demonstrated the agility of an Olympic athlete, the strength of a fairground Amazon, & the dexterity of a professional matador. But most surprising was the wealth of detail: in each confession, the accused described with millimetric precision clothing, gestures, surroundings, positions, objects….
Alma Di Agosto was blind.
Her neighbors, who know her & loved her, were convinced she was guilty:
"Why?" asked the lawyer. "Because the papers say so." ""But the papers lie," said the lawyer. "But the radio says so too," explained the neighbors, "and the TV!"
Maybe I’m too young/ to keep good love from going wrong…
It’s never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It’s never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her It’s never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It’s never over, she’s the tear that hangs inside my song forever.