https://youtu.be/cgvR5nFOETk
me on good day (voices are positive)
I once read a historical document about authorities, like knights, and an incident, basically it said among the report that the knights "outraged their little ones", and I looked into that, and it turns out that "outrage", at the time of use, meant violent rape and torture. At no point in the report does it condemn their actions.
Imagine a system of fairness and justice, where the masses descend upon the lords stored grain, defeating the guards, and redistributing it to those who need it, like Robin Hood. What's more, the masses are the ones who are restricted from starting their own grain farms (they don't have the gold for it, and so all they have to trade for their sustenance is the blood of their opressors). People say communism is bad, but I say that communism is a boogyman, no more than a word to describe the way in which the human race has functioned for as far as can be seen. So in denying communism, one must deny the natural order of things, which is; Might makes right, kindness is a beauty, sharing is caring, it is the strongest who should protect the weakest from being used as mechanical instruments
Imagine how much we could get done if we stopped letting people tell us what to do. Imagine if everyone just ignored the patent trolls, and the tax men, and the unjust laws, the father knows best type abusers would literally commit suicide. They would shoot themselves in the fucking heads in their study because the family they once terrorized has collectively denied him his power.
For trans week, a poem:
My transgender wife
To me, is just my wife.
I look at her, and I see her,
She is soft,
She is kind and gentle.
I don't know what others see in her that makes them angry,
For as far as I can tell there is no wickedness in she.
When I feel her, I feel a woman.
When my hands caress her she signs happily as a woman signs,
Because she is a woman.
You who hate her cannot see subtly, you make enemies where there are none, and what formidable enemies you have made, even from among your own ranks.
For to have had love would have been all it took to set your myriad free from blidness, but you all will fumble in the dark while the rest of us dance in light filled halls of purest crystal.
You who wish to control, who wish to mock in cruelty, seek only to control (in others) that which you can't control within yourselves, so why are you bothering us?
You count yourself a jester but have not the heart of one, your heart is crippled, withered, black, and bitter.
You could never be a jester, you could never spread joy even among your fellows, because you have no joy to give, worm who would attack love.
I give to my own one final message here, love thyself, as I love you, you are worthy of love, and I do not lie in this.
The Trench