A fucked up Jen. A fucked up world.

Today I met someone who thinks we live in an equal world...
...that men and women are equal beings...
I was fuming.
...that Canada is the most "tolerant" place...
...that racism doesn't live here... anymore...
I was fuming.

Just yesterday I had someone say to me, "you're very pretty, for an Asian."
Just yesterday I had someone ask me, "Konichiwa! Where are you from?"
I'm not Japanese. I'm Canadian. I'm from Taiwan. But I'm Canadian.

Do not assume all Asians come from the same place. Konichiwa! my fist!

How many times have I heard the phrase, "I'm not a racist, BUT..."
Fuck your "buts!" That's racist.

When you say, "I don't usually date Asians but you're cute..."
That's fucking offensive.

There are things that, depending on the context and where you're coming from, allows you to say things that are otherwise politically incorrect. I'm a dyke. Therefore, I have RECLAIMED the word to use in my own community. But when you're a straight man using that word in front of me... That's fucking offensive.

Just yesterday I had someone stare me down with judgement...
...because the political/identity buttons on my bag "gave me away" as a dyke, as a feminist...

So when you ask me why I'm so fucked up on the inside...

I wish I can say...

I am fucked up because you fucked me up. With your rapey stares. Sexist images. Racist undertones. Homophobic slurs.

I judge the world because the world judges me like I'm subhuman.

I am a fucked up girl living in a fucked up world.

Dear friends of this journal,

Today I look at myself in the mirror and the glass lashes out in a rage. The vain pride unveils in front of the mirror that reflects pain and rage and rage and pain, but I indulge in it instead of writhing in it. The rage leaves me dry and inhibited, much like the succulent penetration in and out of my lubricated cunt. I possess eyes of many words but they are jumbled up in a marinated bell jar. I am a political statement but that in and of itself is what destroys me. I am silenced and sentenced and killed until none is left to be silenced and sentenced and killed. I fuck and fuck and fuck until I can't fuck anymore. Say it with me, darrlings. Fuck. I always write darrling with two R's because I refuse to be one when one becomes lonely it needs a partner, or two. I am too self-centered to care about grammar because grammar is a fucked up reality that plagues the academia world full of snobby fuck ups. Fuck you fuck me fucking watch me fuck you while you fuck me with my own words. Words fail me except for the world of fuck. Today I wish my name is fuck instead of jen, because when I look at myself in the mirror it says I'm a weird fuck up.

Stay away from me, your parents probably warned you about me.

Yours truly,
Jen S

.
.
.
Do you remember...
the night we went to the show...
and saw those pretty girls play live...


You held my hand and yelled...
I'm gonna be on that stage one day...
you just wait...
.
.
.
.
.
But you didn't...


(I still miss you a whole lot)

Now, months later, I'm starting to forget. And I hate it. So I'm writing to remember you. This is dedicated to you, my darrling.