katlud

[katlud]

Addicted to Love?

The guy I have been seeing for the last two years and I just made the decision to go on break. This happened today and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I won’t be talking to “my person” for the next 3-5 months. Space is necessary for any relationship to survive, I get that, but what you readers need to understand is that we are taking a break for several very complicated…

[katlud]

Unfinished Piece

Tonight he leaves you with another Spotify playlist; The rhythm slips into your dreams, but all you hear Is his voice, raspy and off key, singing along to that song you Used to share together. Not three hours before, his body left indents in your bed, you could still feel body warmth, you try to hold on to those 3 am conversations and his smell. It still lingers on your pillow case. But now, everything you shared, he wants dismantled. You become the girl crying, the girl scrambling for words. He holds you and whispers sweet things in your ear. God- does he know his touch resembles iron branding. You know this is not the end. Rollercoasters become stuck at tops of rides More often than is expected. Falling in love is like being burned in hell And not knowing what you did wrong to bring you there.

[katlud]

High and Dry

You tell him- You’ve never been loved Never had someone open You full and wanting No sex positivity to write Down in a little black book. Men see your sinews and want To push you hard against cherry wood, Against concrete, no need to pull back bed sheets. You are not deserving of orgasm, of love note, of holding. Body clamped and heaving. You are only deserving of wood. Ever since dark strangers slipped Sugar-water down eager throat. Ever since they plunged into your uncharted foliage. Muted screams and pronounced their heavy weight. You have become untouchable and dry. You tell him- You only dream of soft caresses, And of love. You wonder why you cannot find it. Why one man can taint what makes you woman. And cause second, third times, to feel like lost consciousness, like rape All over and over again. You tell him- Of your love And how you’re ready. He hears you but somehow Just does not want you. And your insides bleed. Across arroyo, across canyon. No one quite knows the pain, of a hunger That will never be satisfied. No one quite knows the pain, of something lost, That will never be re-acquired. But you are strong. And you will learn to compromise. You will learn to love. Even if you remain Dry.

[katlud]

I almost thanked you for teaching me something about survival back there, but then I remembered that the ocean never handed me the gift of swimming. I gave it to myself.

Y.Z, what I forgot to remember  (via lucreza)

[katlud]

Gentrifiers focus on aesthetics, not people. Because people, to them, are aesthetics. Proponents of gentrification will vouch for its benevolence by noting it “cleaned up the neighbourhood”. This is often code for a literal white-washing. The problems that existed in the neighbourhood - poverty, lack of opportunity, struggling populations denied city services - did not go away. They were simply priced out to a new location. That new location is often an impoverished suburb, which lacks the glamour to make it the object of future renewal efforts. There is no history to attract preservationists because there is nothing in poor suburbs viewed as worth preserving, including the futures of the people forced to live in them. This is blight without beauty, ruin without romance: payday loan stores, dollar stores, unassuming homes and unpaid bills. In the suburbs, poverty looks banal and is overlooked. In cities, gentrifiers have the political clout - and accompanying racial privilege - to reallocate resources and repair infrastructure. The neighbourhood is “cleaned up” through the removal of its residents. Gentrifiers can then bask in “urban life” - the storied history, the selective nostalgia, the carefully sprinkled grit - while avoiding responsibility to those they displaced.

Sarah Kendzior - The peril of hipster economics (x)

[katlud]

[katlud]

We don’t know if Elliot Rodger was mentally ill. We don’t know if he was a “madman.” We do know that he was desperately lonely and unhappy, and that the Men’s Rights Movement convinced him that his loneliness and unhappiness was intentionally caused by women. Because this is what the Men’s Rights Movement does: it spreads misogyny, it spreads violence, and most of all it spreads a sense of entitlement towards women’s bodies. Pretending that this is the a rare act perpetrated by a “crazy” person is disingenuous and also does nothing to address the threat of violence that women face every day. We can’t just write this one off – we need to talk about all of the fucked up parts of our culture, especially the movements that teach men that they have the right to dominate and intimidate and violate women, that lead to this, and we need to change things. Because if we don’t, I guarantee that this will happen again. And again. And again.

Elliot Rodger And Men Who Hate Women (via fucknosexistcostumes)

[katlud]

please reblog this if it is okay to anonymously confess something to you

[katlud]

You must remember, it isn’t about “All men are menaces to women,” it’s about “All women have been menaced by men.”

The best shit I’ll read all week (via emlestrange)

The best ever response to the ‘not all men!’ crusade. If it’s not about you, stop making it about you.

(via clementineford)

[katlud]

What I need today.

[katlud]

Reflections Before I Move To New York City

So this year has been a whirlwind. I graduate college a year ago today. Was hired on full-time at one of the most renowned mental health agencies in Portland and had a consistent pay check. I have made friends, lists friends, grew with and out of family. Looking back, I di not recognize the person I was in college, but have become proud (well almost) of the person I've become. I am amazed at how resilient I have actually been throughout my life and how much I have grown is such a short span of months. I feel my limbs stretching east, eager to take root in new soil. I feel my feet pointed outward toward the Atlantic, antsy to pack up and leave this toxic bubble behind. Don't get me wrong, I am and will be forever in love with Portland. I will miss it's farmer markets, farm to table restaurants, keep it weird signs, naked bike rides, tea houses, poetry slams, parks and forests, however the bullies that broke me into pastel and disjointed parts continue to haunt me and I need to air them out and extinguish their strong flames to ash. As I begin my journey I am trying to forgive everyone who wronged me or misled me in my four years here in Portland. I am trying to forgive the clique who implicitly kicked me out of their group freshmen year, to the boys who broke my heart as a love lorn teenager, to my roommates who threw hate word after hate word in my direction and made me feel as small as the world feels with everyone in it. I need to forgive Febian for calling me his girl friend and leading me to feel like he was falling in love, when he was only it it for the sex and to lead me to have several threesomes with him. For breaking my heart twice. For calling me awful names. For treating my like I am an object to play with and not someone who is worth being with outside of bed. I need to forgive my italian roommates who wrote awful things about me in their diaries and ostracized me within my own apartment and made fun of me behind my back. These people mean nothing. I am not forgiving them because they are deserve forgiveness, but because I deserve to forgive them and let them off my back. I do not want them to follow me to my new life. I want to be free to start over, grow and recreate the life I've always wanted. Yes, febian hurt me beyond believe. yes although he knew I had been raped, he continued to use my body in ways I should have stood up to and not let him get away with. even though he knew I was falling for him and was a sweet nice girl, he chose to manipulate, mislead, pressure and string around. But he is not every man. And I know I can do better. I am better. So he will not pave my future relationships, I will no longer be afraid that I do not deserve a positive love, i will no longer be afraid that i'll be alone, I will no longer be afraid that he is it. As of now, I am letting his hold on my heart go. As of now I am letting his being float to the moon. As of now, i forgive you, and will forget you. This is me, setting everyone and myself free.

[katlud]

[katlud]

Evening Rambles

will i ever be happy. content. at peace with being myself. is a question I have often asked, but has never been answered. My life these past 23 years has been a roller coaster of emotions and although I'm way better than i have ever been, I have returned to a very dark place. Being a young adult in Portland, albeit being a young, introverted, quirky, anxious and socially awkward adult in Portland is very lonely. I look around as I walk to various "favorite places" and see beautiful groups of people connected and alive with their love for each other. And then there is me, constantly alone. People don't realize looking at me, that I am very depressed, have very low self-esteem and have very few friends. I can name the number of friends I have on one hand, the number of true and good friends on two fingers. I was ok with this at first, graduating college and working a full-time job and being in a time-consuming sexual relationship. Now that the relationship has fizzed out and the job is no-longer fulfilling my heart is discontent again, my mind has returned to images of suicide, self-harm, hibernation and believes that I will always be this unlikeable, weird, and unexceptional being. There are so many people i have tried to instigate a relationship with; some have lasted and are wonderful, some began then ended abruptly and some were promising but then the people just began to blow me off and ignore all communication on my end. Yes people go through their own shit. I get that. And i'm going through deep shit right now and am therefore super sensitive; but it hurts when you open yourself up, or at least try to develop a friendship with someone and that someone becomes disinterested. I just want to find a wonderful group of women (queer, straight, femme, feminist, artist...) that share similar interests and stories as mine to become friends with and in this city where there are loads of women that meet this criteria, I am alone. I hate how my happiness and self-worth hinges on connection with others; I just want to be content with my oil painting, poetry, joints, candles and music. but when i'm alone for long I become super agitated as I am right now. it doesn't help that I am waiting to hear back from all the graduate programs i applied to and am in the process; if i get accepted to any of them, of deciding whether to remain in Portland, a wonderful city that I adore but one plagued with trauma, bad memories, hospitalizations, and toxic/negative energies, or move to New York City where I know close to know one. New York is also less open minded and forgiving city than Portland and is apparently a lot more cold and tough so my worries of being accepted, feeling connected and making awesome life long friends only increases. Agh so many feelings. So much to ramble about. My life is a mess. I am on the verge of another nervous breakdown. I need friends more than ever.

[katlud]

Desire Map Thoughts

So, as part of a women's book group in PDX, I am reading the Desire Map by Danielle Laporte. This book has us think about our core desire feelings and what we need to do/change in our lives in order to feel those feels and pursue those desires. This book has actually been very empowering, eye opening, inspiring and potentially life changing. I'm sitting at Townshends Teahouse on Alberta talking to someone sitting next to me, saying the book "puts everything in life into perspective," when I flip the next page of the book and the first quote is "gratitude puts everything into perspective". Eery. Anyways this segment has us explore what we're grateful for in life. So here's my list: 1) I'm grateful that me and my sister often share the same wave lengths and are so similar. 2) I'm grateful for how hard my mother worked in raising me and my difficulties. 3) I'm grateful for my father and his love of travel, through him, my exposure to travel and languages and also his financial stability which granted me many opportunities 4) I'm grateful for the warm sunshine that is outside in Portland today; winters grey, cold and rain makes this sunshine even more wonderful. 5) I'm grateful for the admission offices at various grad programs for allowing me to interview for their program. 6) I'm grateful for my resilience and empathy as they have brought me to where I am today 7) I'm grateful to have a home, money for food and the opportunity to continue my education. 8) I'm grateful that I am overall healthy and strong and athletic 9) i'm grateful for my body 10) I'm grateful to God for helping me get out of a toxic intimate relationship which prevented me from becoming hurt.

[katlud]

Rape jokes are not jokes. Woman-hating jokes are not jokes. These guys are telling you what they think. When you laugh along to get their approval, you give them yours.

Thomas Millar, Meet the Predators (via glitteryghoul) rheartsareloudandwillnotrest.tumblr.com/

[katlud]

Siena é la piazza del campo. I would remember this place and my home anywhere.

[katlud]

St. Vincent - DIY Magazine - March 2014