The former King of Afghanistan might include a woman/2 women in his delegation to the Bonn talks, but everybody's worried that the other delegates will walk out if there's a woman at the table. And nobody pays fucking attention to rawa or any of the other groups, and I'm not really ranting about the Afghans: they're just a bunch of savages living in a primordial society. It's everything that fucks me off. I see rawa complain that being forced to wear a headscarf is just as bad as to be forced to wear a burqa, because it's *force*, and it reminds me of debates I've had with women who believe that the battle for women's rights is won, so what the fuck am I complaining about. Then they come crying to me complaining that their boyfriend hits them because she earns more than he does. Fuck. I hate the world sometimes. I rage against everything sometimes. I see a bunch of men cheering football in a pub and I immediately hate them. Every line of unthinking, ignorant savagery etched into their faces reflects their fear of being the runt; the desperation to belong, if they cannot lead. And in their own little portcullissed lives, they lord it over a single woman - "their" woman - who has not the knowledge or the physical strength to be anything else. And what is the fucking point. God, I hate them. Every time I see them, I want to kill them, and watch them die slowly and in excruciating agony and fear, astonished by my rage.
Hmmm. I think I might be Off Games soon too. It's still how I feel deep down, though. Oh, and nobody need bother arguing that I'm not being fair to men, or I shouldn't be saying this; the whole point is that it's what the deepest, most instinctive parts of me feel. Denying that is dangerous. Don't even try to argue with me. *growl*