I’m taking that creative writing class and I just.  Okay.  Guys.  Explain me a thing.  WHY have I read two stories in this past semester about rape?  I mean, I guess the one was more about abuse followed by murder (see my rant here), but still, Christ.  Honestly I’m going to meet with the teacher about the most recent one, which I’m supposed to critique for Thursday, and just be like, “I fucking cannot do this.  I am not objective enough to say shit about this girl’s writing.  This is pages upon pages of a girl who witnessed the rape of someone she considered a friend and did nothing, and I have spent way too much time on the wrong side of that equation to be objective here.“  I just.  Do not understand why rape is the thing.  Like, guys, it’s not like it’s edgy and cool, okay, I promise, people have been hideous to each other since fucking Ur was nothing but a twinkle in the eye of some random ape.  They’re not treating it as a very deep trauma and dealing with the fallout and handling it with as much care and compassion as possible, it’s not even fucking productive, it’s just annoying, Christ, fucking STOP.

Also, I honestly don’t care if it makes me a cultural heathen, I don’t like weird abstract writing that’s intended to ‘push the boundaries of what we think of as prose.’  Like, no.  It’s not a failing on my part if I want to read fantasy novels with, oh, I don’t know, plot and characters and literally anything other than obsessive navel gazing.  The next time I have to read the literary equivalent of that very famous piece of modern art that’s literally just a piece of plywood painted uniformly blue, I am going to scream.  

Tags: this is okay to reblog rape tw yep it's been fun writing admin post moran is pissed i honestly have reached this point of unilateral loathing in that class even the people i normally like are just flat-out damned by association i hate everyone equally and i'm supposed to have my short story critiqued on the same day as the girl who wrote the dubious rapey murdery thing this time her thing is dubious and abstract and suicide-y! good times i literally hate everything so much look if weird abstract shit that is the written equivalent of blue plywood is your thing great i'm not going to fucking stop you from enjoying your shit live your life but my great existential crisis happened when i was eleven okay it was four of the worst most hideous months of my life and my grand takeaway was this it doesn't fucking matter WHY i'm here it matters that i'm here and it matters how i use that time everybody is born and everybody dies the only part of that equation that changes is what you do in between and existentialism never made anyone happy that i can see okay so if i decide that between birth and death i want to go make a tangible difference that's my decision and if i decide that i'd like to spend that precious time actually ENJOYING the shit i read and write that is also my decision and if you think that i'm somehow a failure of a human being because i'm not obsessing about the great why