This one time, I had a crush on a man.

This one time, I had a crush on a man.

I had a crush on a man who I didn't know.

But it didn't start out that way. At first I was like, man, why the fuck do you keep starin at me? I see you here and maybe I think I see you there, but I don't know you so do I recognize you? Do you know me? You sure seem to. You sure seem to know me starin at me like that. Who the fuck are you and why the fuck do you keep starin at me like that? You feel to me like one of those nice kinda men, but just kinda nice, cauz you keep fuckin starin at me like I owe you somethin. 

He thought I owed him attention just because he was a dude who exists in the world. He's white.

And yeah, I'm a white woman, and yeah, sometimes my voice is nice and soft, but I'm hard as fuck, too. 

Then I saw him starin at me in the grocery store. I was the customer, he was in the work shirt. Starin at me. Lookin away. Again and again. He looked my age. He was tall - the nice kind of tall. I'm not tall. He looked sturdy and strong. The nice kind of sturdy and strong. The kind of sturdy and strong that a 5'4" 120 LB woman like me might want to be handled by. I'm 39 and have always had great orgasms. I like the sex. Yeah, I looked back and thought all that. 

So again, I'm like mutherfucker, do you want to fuck this mother? Then you better get to talkin. But then I went ahead and did it for him. I asked him a question about grapes cauz this one time another man I dated hipped me to crunchin on the seeds. I don't remember what the starin man said to me, but I do remember that his voice was nice, his smile was nice. That was it. I showed him, yeah I'm regular, you can talk to me. I don't owe you shit, but why the fuck do you look so scared. I'm regular, you can talk to me. 

After that, I realized I'd seen this starin mutherfucker in a lot of places at a lot of times. Starin. What do you want if you don't want me? I showed you me. And you still walked around that store starin scared at me like I owe you my niceness. Like I owe you my attention.  

That was last spring. I was a hard anti-racist, feminist world changing son of a bitch then, but damn, I'm swingin way farther that way now cauz look at all the white supremacists and patriarchs and homophobes and able bodied chauvinists and transphobic fuck faces that think they still run shit, think they still own shit. 

I'm not soft except when I am. I'm not polite except when I am. And I'm never ever again trying to be anybody's wife. Cauz you know what that means. You know exactly what that means. Even to a man who thinks he's a feminist, fools himself that he's a feminist, a wife is someone who cooks and cleans and nurtures and listens to you when you do your man bullshit all over the world. I'm not even going at all to listen to your man bullshit until you learn how to deal. I'm never going to be anybody's wife. I like anarchy. Your laws have no place on my body or in my home. 

Partnership I'm down for. Wife. Fuck your wife. You be the fuckin wife. And then get back to me.

I am a student of ayurvedic medicine. A brand new student who's doin unguided independent study. One premise is that women rid themselves of excess pitta (fire and water energy) via our fertility cycles. I chose correctly when they asked me if I wanted to be born a woman or a man. I chose the one who automatically has the pitta ridding system built in. How do you get rid of your shit? So many men just lug their shit around. Forever. I was married to a man. I remember. I hate most men. But I love men. I think you're delicious. Literally, and I don't throw that word around too much because basic bitches are always like, literally, to everything. I think you're delicious. I love your bodies and I'm not talkin ripped with muscles. I love your bodies. You have what I don't. And I have what you don't. But I can get rid of my pitta monthly. It works better when you're aware of it, so I'm getting good at getting rid. 

When you masturbate, you ejaculate. Automatically. Some women can do that. I never have and I don't really feel too concerned either way about it. But you do it automatically. Seems like one way to get rid. How about dealing with your emotions by talking, or writing, or moving your body in some kind of way. We both know mommies and daddies usually don't teach boys to understand emotions. Cry about it and be angry about it and think about it and deal with it. Emotions are not feminine. Emotions are not womanly. Emotions are basic shit. Face it dummy. 

Today, in January, all that feels like a dirty trick. You looked at me like you were nice. You looked at me like you might be nice to me. You looked at me like I might like you. And then I heard your voice and saw your smile and saw your eyes and didn't stop thinkin about you for a while. And all the while since then, you're nowhere. You're not starin at me like I owe you something. You're not starin at me at all cauz you're nowhere in my world. So this one time, I thought maybe I might actually meet a man that might actually be worth my time, cauz it's my time, and you ghost me. 

Dirty trick. I used to be nicer. Jokes on you. 



when yr a cis chick who wants dick

when yr a cis chick who wants dick

white men are everywhere

white men are everywhere