
Category: Writing
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Today I experienced something new, although I’m sure the many women pioneers in photography experienced rubbish like it all the time over the years, and worse.
What I experienced was misogyny. What are you, new? You may think. Women experience misogyny every day.
Oh, I’ve suffered along with every other woman on the planet when it comes to casual sexism, internalised sexism, and every slice of misogyny you can think of (bar anything related to race, since I am white.) That wasn’t the “new” part.
What I am not used to is misogyny regarding my hobby. Actually, I will amend that a little: this was my first time experiencing such negative sexism regarding photography. I’m not dumb enough not to realise those men who smile and let me take a photo are probably being old-fashioned “gentlemen” (although I still thank them for it. Politeness is politeness, regardless of where it came from, and it’s harmless).
Back to the incident that occured.
As I’m photographing some large, gorgeous daffodils, I hear a loud voice just down from me:
“Fucking disgusting. Putting on “Maccy” and going inside thepm
church to pose, I’ll bet.“
Actually, I’ll be fair to The Judemental Fool. That would be a dickish thing to do.
If that was what I was doing at the time
I took one photo of myself, as part of my Visual Diary. I took it nowhere near the church and not out of vanity.
When I got home, I complained to Mum that I wish I weren’t such a chickenshit and had confronted that woman. However, having had time to calm down and think it all over, I realise now that that would have been a terrible response for two reasons: 1. It would’ve escalated a situation that was not an argument at that point and 2. caused a scene where I probably wouldn’t have come out looking good. If anything, it likely would’ve made that woman look correct, as I was causing a scene after all. I
Although honestly, the idea I could be some sort of influencer is still hilarious to me. I couldn’t influence a potted plant.
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For every star in heaven
There’s a sad soul here today.
– Queen, Long Away.
…
The end is here at last.
I know it’s the end because I don’t care anymore.
I don’t care who my actions will hurt. After all, they don’t care about me.
I heard it and knew it the other day “fuck her.” I’m an epileptic. He meant he didn’t want anyone to come home and look after me.
He meant if I fell and broke my neck, he didn’t care.
He didn’t care if I died.
Mother just sat there quietly, as always.
Sister. She lit the flame. She never said sorry.
I’m sorry to the online friends I have. The people I loved who never knew me. Rami. Michael. Chris. I hope we meet some day.
But this sad soul is joining the stars. My only friend. The end.
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Which aspects do you think makes a person unique?
My eyes.
They are the only thing I look at in the mirror and like what I see there.
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I ran until my legs could barely hold me up.
I ran until I could feel nothing but jelly anymore,
If that makes sense.
I ran unti I had could no more longer breathe.
I ran until I tripped and could run no longer.
The chase was over.











