Vulnerability is power.

I don’t know where to begin.

 

Since the #metoo movement began, a tiny little movement that I participated in, I’ve had a continuous stream of thought that has been incredibly overwhelming.

 

From reliving my own personal experiences in shattered disorganized memories disrupting my day to day life, to looking at my own precious daughters, pondering that point in which they, for the first time in their lives will experience that innocence shattering moment of “ick”. That moment when somebody acts in an inappropriate manner to them, and somehow it’s excused by the people surrounding them instead of giving them safe haven.

 

I’ve read articles, and threads, and seen everything from compassion and empathy to derailments and abuse, I’ve watched as everyone debates or decides how they’re going to deal with the overload of information that women are being assaulted everywhere. Men are being assaulted everywhere.

 

There are discussions on where it begins, and debates on how to end it, hundreds of thousands of voices chiming in and the cacophony is surreal and deafening. I can’t say if this will just blow over like most previous high profile sex abuse scandals, the media, and the general public are great at forgetting terrible things very quickly.

 

But now that the dust has settled from the storm, and I have a moment or two to sit down and write it out, I may as well put the jumble of thoughts and words down and sort them out later.

 

From Philip Zombardo and his ted talks on evil and the Stanford Prison experiments, to talks about self compassion and being a whole person, there seem to be many angles in regards to addressing violence, sexual violence in social groups. 

 

Why was everyone so upset about Weinstein? Is anyone really surprised? He moved up in an industry that has made billions of dollars off of pussy.

 

There. I said it.

 

This isn’t the porn industry, but it may as well be, and not just missionary style… oh no… it’s some pretty heavy kink. And everyone seems to be okay with it, At least porn doesn’t mince words or lie about it. They openly say they fuck for a living, the titles speak volumes as to what’s following that inevitable url click. Hot milf taking 10 cocks in her ass. — Busty barely legal getting a spank while her mouth gets slammed.

 

At least a porn viewer can make a decision as to what level and type of sexual experience that are going to purvey.

 

Hollywood doesn’t make it that easy (see them G rated previews on tv for an R rated film), and the people that they employ to give ratings to movies, as well as the people that designed the rules they are supposed to follow should be given a second, sober look.

Slasher films, dramas with rape, sexual objectification in comedy, romance and mystery, more rape, women being stalked and murdered and raped everywhere. Boys being bashed and shut down and told to be a man, men hurting and maiming… oh look that couple kissed. Cut it the hell short. Don’t have the leading actress actually enthusiastically consent to sex, or better yet have her have a shallow dialogue and just give the sex scene the confetti cinematography. And a kazoo sound effect at his climax. If she gets off, rate it x.

Shame them women for enjoying it, shame them for existing. Diddle a little boy here and there to spice it up and mess them up. That boy has potential, make him fall in line, and make him hate sexuality. Fill him with self loathing so he can in turn be a powerful man.

 

Because fuck women.

Fuck em.

Conquer them.

They aren’t people, they’re goals, they’re beasts that need to be controlled from their hair to their genitals.

 

Groom dogs, groom kids.. It’s all the same shit when there’s money to be made and a social ladder to climb.

 

Why? What are they so afraid of?

 

All the professionals, the psychology experts, the professional rapist say it’s about power. It’s about control. That’s a pretty ambiguous sentiment.

These are my questions. I suppose this is the point of the stream of thoughts I mentioned above.

Why is the very essence of being feminine vilified? Why is it frightening? Why does it need to be captured and caged, controlled or destroyed? We can try to blame abrahamic religions, and their despicable bid to subjugate society, but I think that cultural, and social memetic existed prior. It was adopted no different than solstice.

 

It’s a meme, that got out of control, like the spanish flu. It’s killing people, globally. It’s bought and sold and given away like cotton candy flavored cocaine.

Why do women have to fight day in and day out for autonomy? Why are we subjugated? Why are we so dangerous? Who are we dangerous to?

 

Why are little boys crushed in such a way that perpetuates the problem? Why do they have to view their mother as the enemy? The woman that despite sheer exhaustion, and pain brought them into this world, reared them, nurtured them (I’m not going to mention the dysfunctional families at this point because that’s a whole book worth of thought processes) But those boys from good and loving homes that get up one day and try to conquer the pussy?

 

The power of the pussy. The thing that rules our society at large. This body part that is misnamed, shamed, and blamed for… what?

Tempting men, and men losing the battle internally. Men trying to subjugate the need, the biological imperative, that biological imperative having replaced the intimacy that comes with relationships, healthy ones both platonic and sexual.

Isolate, subjugate, conquer.

 

Men are divided from family, from true intimacy, and get the wondrous gift of ego to replace it. Ego is a voracious and terrifying construct, and left unchecked will bring mayhem to life.

Boys will be boys, neglect wrapped in a shiny package of freedom, a license for irresponsibility, and henceforth the Pan shall dance with the lost boys in neverland dreaming of Wendy fair.

Broken boys growing into men’s bodies, never given the opportunity to be close, to experience intimacy and taught in offhand ways that the only way to be intimate is through sex.

 

The power of the pussy.

 

Wives and girlfriends scream and yell and nag, begging for emotional closeness with men that are essentially still misguided boys, that have egos that will prevent them from growing. It’s hard to come to terms with the idea that you hurt the people you love and just want to be close to. And you hurt them because that’s the only way you know how to interact, because boys will be boys.

 

Loathe thyself for you’re contemptible for merely existing.

 

Maybe I’m wrong, maybe what I’m seeing is normal and I should accept that’s just the way it is.

 

Maybe women being subjugated through objectification, programmed to respond to acknowledgement, from peers and especially the male eye. You aren’t worth a damn if you can’t rise to the occasion of being the sexiest, and most one dimensional creature in existence. All women are your competition. Worthy of the abuse they receive.

Why?

Damned if I know, I’m not educated. I’m not smart, I’m just on this side of the river stix, trying to get by.

Men aren’t from mars nor are women from venus. We don’t speak different languages, we do however listen with different biases. Or don’t listen at all, because hearing the truth, hearing each other, listening to the pain of existence means vulnerability, which means having to admit dishing out soul torturing pain, and hell on earth.

It means being completely intimate with oneself let alone another human, and we have been taught from our day ones, to avoid that at all costs. We have been taught that self awareness is as dirty as a good old fashioned throat fucking.

Yes there are schools that teach people the idea of self awareness, but it takes more than a group of hippies to get a person to be truly honest with themselves, to be intimate and gentle and compassionate to themselves, and then to move to giving that same treatment to other people with no goal in mind.

The salvation of the pussy.

Healthy, happy women, have an easier time of being vulnerable, being intimate, and loving. And more often than not, that behavior is twisted into sexual advances, or treated as flirting as opposed to being open and loving for it’s own sake.

This is power. Having intimacy as a freely flowing construct, neither taken or given, just being. This is what men want, desire. They wish for normal closeness, not some bastardized life of isolation and loneliness competing with partner after partner as to which gender is more powerful or better than. Men desire the closeness of a bosom buddy, a confidant, and not get shamed for it.

The act of vulnerability, is continually treated as something shameful, female and child related and to be quashed at all costs. Including the cost of one’s own well being and essential human virtue. Yet those who are openly vulnerable even through hurt, tend to be more resilient.

 

Why?

 

Intimacy. They have more intimate connections with more people and as the pains of life cut their souls, they have the support they need, as they are also support for others. They heal, they grow, they move forward.

 

But these boys wrapped in flashy man bodies. Stoic, angry, brooding, jealous, needing affirmation, see the vulnerable with some sort of intangible power.

They need to take it. Take away that power of vulnerability, because it isolates. Isolation the easiest way to subjugate.

 

This might be why the #metoo movement is so very important, and the derailment of stating that victims, shouldn’t have to bear their souls to get this addressed is problematic. Maybe they shouldn’t, but it might be the very reason these people are resilient. They reach out, they connect and build up power with each other, from each other.

 

Intimacy between strangers to fight the stoic isolation that patriarchal movement really slams down upon society in order to maintain a certain type of control.

 

Why?

That’s for another day.

 

That’s for another day

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