Tag Archives: fear

One more political post…

I’m torn. On the one hand, I feel very strongly that we need to keep talking about what’s going wrong since Trump won the Presidency. On the other hand, I’m kind of tired of losing my friends.

I have argued against the concept of white privilege, and done so quite loudly, for a while now. I wrote a while ago about how Gentrification was not a race issue, but a class issue. Even last week, I had a conversation with a friend (possibly even the day of the election) about how “white privilege” isn’t really white. It’s based on a variety of stereotypes, very few of which are true to be sure, but it’s not just inherently about being white.

But my world keeps getting smaller and smaller because a lot of my friends seem to have this mysterious white privilege, and I… Don’t.

Perhaps I didn’t know what exactly “white privilege” meant.

Continue reading One more political post…

Weekend Coffee Share: I’m terrified…

This week, if we were talking over coffee, I’d have to have you meet me in my room, and bring me a hot cocoa while I’m hiding, wrapped up like a burrito in bed. The more I see of how the election results have changed this country, the less I want to be a part of it.

Or a part of the human race at all, actually!

Continue reading Weekend Coffee Share: I’m terrified…

Pistanthrophobia (Original Poem)

The Pirate and I had… a misunderstanding… or something. He was having a bad day, said I was being smothering, which I can see, and possibly agree with, but to me, the “why” is always the key. Why was I being smothering? Because something didn’t feel right. I have not been able to read his intentions, or what he thinks about me, and while he says with his words that he finds me interesting, and wants to keep me around… he’s shown no interest in ME, my life, my past, my hobbies. Every conversation goes back to the topics he’s interested in, or stories of his life. 

I found that it bothered me. I found that I wanted some sign, that wasn’t asked for, that he was actually interested in ME. As such, I couldn’t back off like he asked… I never seem to be able to do that, because it makes me nervous. It’s happened before, and it will probably happen again with the next guy, as I’m sure the Pirate is done with me. And several people feel that I should be done with him as well. I think I was building up to that, maybe? I don’t know. I know I’m sad at the thought. 

He posted a word on Instagram, one I did not know, and it (plus my actual feelings) are the inspiration for this poem.  Continue reading Pistanthrophobia (Original Poem)