Comment flatter l'égo d'un homme pour qu'il t'achète du chocolat

vaseline

Aujourd'hui, j'ai quelque chose en anglais pour vous. Je l'ai mis sur teen thoughts (@redlips_kill), mais plus tard je me suis dit que c'est important que je le mette ici aussi. N'oubliez pas de voter si le chapitre vous a plu ! C'est un geste insignifiant pour vous, mais ca me fait tellement plaisir. :)

Bon, moi, je suis epuisee apres l'ecriture de ceci... Vous connaissez ca, quand vous vous sentez emotionnellement draine.e apres avoir ecrit ? Bref. Bonne lecture.

***

At 25, Maria found the love of her life. Her soulmate. The other part of her. He was tall, athletic, and handsome. He was kind, and smiling, and open-hearted. But most of all, he loved her, she never, ever doubted of that. So she let him beat her. Again and again and again. Soon, her whole body was covered with blue and purple spots. But that was love, so he had taught her. Love was flinching when his voice got louder; love was feeling her heart stop at sudden movements. Love was letting him do whatever he wanted with her body. She belonged to him, that's love, right? Love was smiling for the magazines; love was doing panic attack after panic attack. Love was obeying. Love was hurting from the inside out. Love was bleeding and pain. Love was him before anything else.

He was loved, but not only by Maria. There were hundreds of thousands of teenage girls out there who fantasized about him and screeched, hands stretching, at his concerts. Maria couldn't help but feel a bit sick. But mostly, she felt strong knowing she was saving these girls from being with him. It made her stop doubting.

The day he won his first Brammy award, she got a special treatment. That night, he came in with a bottle of Vaseline. Maria started shaking violently, her breathing quickening. He was going to make her drink it. Her throat went dry and she could feel a new panic attack coming. He came from behind her. He grabbed her hair and tugged it so she would cry out. Her face was looking up to him; tears were already streaming down her cheeks. His face was serious. He never laughed, nor smiled, or did anything to show that he was enjoying himself. It's because I love you.

He set the bottle on the floor; let's keep that for the end. He started by punching her. Her lip was bleeding. He took off his belt. He used that a couple of times, then he took off his pants too.

I don't want to do this anymore.

Maria didn't know if she had said it out loud, but either way, it made no difference. The monster had taken over and there was no stopping him. He was much more violent and rough, this time. But she couldn't care less. She was already gone when he grabbed her arm and flung her against the head bed. As her neck connected with the edge of the hard wooden piece, she heard a small click!

Black.

***

First, I want to say that I am not talking about specific people here, Maria was the first name that came to mind. John Legend made a new song, Preach, and, God, it hit me in the heart. When you're a feminist and you have Pinterest, there's no other way : You learn about Them. I saw so many posts about those people being beaten and abused and raped. The words are now so familiar. I was sick, I was hurt. But John's song woke me up. Yes, he is talking about school shootings and immigrant discrimination and racism, but the song talks about so much more, too much. It makes me so mad. I want to do something.

 And there is no excuse, people. If Greta could do it, you can too. If Malala could do it, you can too. There is no excuse, there is only cowardice. Selfishness. Fear. We choose to close our eyes all the time, we choose to protect ourselves. But in the end, we end up just sentencing ourselves too. You are not protected. You will be a victim, too.

The question is, what can I do ? Right now, I only see one option : words. Words, words, words. Words are our freedom. And I will talk. I will write. This is the story of thousands of women. This isn't just fiction. This isn't just the result of a wave of anger and tears of some random teenager.

We celebrate these men, those who do this. We give them awards and money and fame. Eminem. Elvis Presley. John Lennon. The list goes on and on.

And I am sick of that.

Laetitia

Every day I wake and
Everything is broken
Turnin' off my phone just to get out of bed
Get home every evening
And history's repeating
Turning off my phone 'cause it's hurting my chest
Aye

And heaven knows I'm not helpless, yeah
But what can I do?
I can't see the use in me crying
If I'm not even tryna make the change I wanna seeI can't sit and hope, I
Can't just sit and pray, that
I can find a love, when
All I see is pain
Falling to my knees
And though I do believe
I can't just preach, baby, preach
Whoa, oh
I can't just preach, baby, preach

All I hear is voices
Everybody's talking
Nothing real is happening, 'cause nothing is new
Now when all is tragic
And I just feel sedated
Why do I feel numb? Is that all I can do? Yeah

And heaven knows I'm not helpless, yeah
But I'm only human
I can't see the use in me crying
If I'm not even tryna make the change I wanna seeI can't sit and hope, I
Can't just sit and pray, that
I can find a love, when
All I see is pain
Falling to my knees
And though I do believe (though I do believe)
I can't just preach, baby, preach

(...)

John Legend