I want my justice here on earth

I might pray when bad people do evil things to good people but I also will take meaningful action against bad people.


The president of my african american club was not african american. She was an ally who had experienced some really fucked up shit as a single mom of three children whose father was african american. We voted her in on strength of character, cultural and political awareness and all around stomach to deal with the issues . The african american candidate had none of these qualities. Her experience in society was closer to that of a princess. We had no use for her in comparison.
Was our president black? Yes her experiences were in some cases more severe than our own. Was our president african american? No, her people were of irish and polish descent. The difference was not lost on us. And we didnt give two fucks what other folks thought or said about our decision.

Ignoring Intimacy In Relationships

There are certain things you should never allow your partner to do alone. Things that could damage your relationship beyond repair.
Cheif among these, fulfilling intimate needs. There are very few acceptable reasons, as to why one would recognize an intimate need in their partner and resist applying themselves to fulfill it.
Medical reasons get a pass.
Other reasons come across as plain old incompatability when you arent willing to make overcoming them a priority.
Consistantly Ignoring your partner’s expressed feelings of what a healthy level of intimacy is in favor of things such as solo video games, sleeping or basically non intimate activity may cause them to look elsewhere for intimate attention that fulfills their needs. Even if they love you they can not be responsable for constantly lighting your fire. Not if they are to believe it burns with passion, i.e. independant of what they do for and to you.
Everyone is entitled to a level of intimacy that makes them feel the relationship is worthwhile and that they are worthwhile.
If that level is too one sided or can not be made to be mutual I predict a breakup at best. At worst infidelity.

Shakespeare Made Me Do It

[16:19] Nymphet Sahara: once i was on a date with a guy and we were walking at night on the commons
[16:19] Nymphet Sahara: it was beautiful summer night
[16:20] Nymphet Sahara: and we happened upon Shakespeare in the park
[16:20] Nymphet Sahara: they were doing my favorite, a midsummer night’s dream
[16:20] Agustin Braham: WOW
[16:20] Nymphet Sahara: i was like..this is perfect!
[16:20] Nymphet Sahara: …
[16:20] Nymphet Sahara: well
[16:20] Agustin Braham: yes it was
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: we sat in a cozy area beneath a civil war monument on a bench lit only by moon and stars. above the crowd on a hill
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: but just close enough to see the stage and actors
[16:21] Agustin Braham: mmmmm
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: as i leaned up against him he starts to mumble about how stupid shakespeare was
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: and how stuck up everyone was for pretending to laugh at language they did not understand
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: i ignored it
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: then
[16:21] Nymphet Sahara: he starts swearing
[16:22] Nymphet Sahara: “this fucking nerdy shit”
[16:22] Agustin Braham: Ohh nooooo
[16:22] Nymphet Sahara: i happened to have a McD’s chicken wrap in my hand
[16:22] Agustin Braham: why did the poor idiot have to ruin it
[16:22] Nymphet Sahara: and just as he was laughing at his own crude joke i smashed it against his mouth
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: he looked at me like i had just stabbed him and then he ran off into the night
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: i felt
[16:23] Agustin Braham: ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: very dirty
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: very bad for losing my composure
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: and hitting a man
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: shameful
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: so i went after him
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: and he cried
[16:23] Agustin Braham: yes
[16:23] Nymphet Sahara: and i felt guilty for putting him in a situation that made him feel unintelligent
[16:23] Agustin Braham: did you call him a baby drama queen and he should get on stage with the others?
[16:24] Nymphet Sahara: i tried to live our relationship like that. avoiding intellectual situations and convo all for him
[16:24] Nymphet Sahara: and then i broke it off
[16:24] Nymphet Sahara: huh?
[16:24] Nymphet Sahara: LOLOLOL
[16:25] Nymphet Sahara: i should have used WORDS
[16:25] Agustin Braham: I dont think you did him a disservice at all
[16:26] Agustin Braham: He could have used that opportunity to see that he was defending his own ignorance with crude jokes
[16:26] Nymphet Sahara: he knew. I knew.
[16:26] Nymphet Sahara: it didn’t help. he still got smacked
[16:26] Nymphet Sahara: :<
[16:27] Agustin Braham: Noo, I meant he could have used getting smacked as the lesson
[16:27] Agustin Braham: but instead poor poor me
[16:27] Agustin Braham: You’re reversing the roles and thats not the same
[16:27] Agustin Braham: When a Woman hits a man
[16:28] Agustin Braham: the Man needs to put a lot of thought into why she hit him
[16:28] Nymphet Sahara: i agree! but if he were capable of that, sadly, there would never have been a hit right?
[16:28] Nymphet Sahara: sighs
[16:29] Agustin Braham: Nope
[16:29] Nymphet Sahara: i have always ALWAYS felt ashamed about that night
[16:29] Nymphet Sahara: o.o no?
[16:29] Agustin Braham: the hit was his chance to expand his self awareness
[16:29] Agustin Braham: You think the hit came from you
[16:29] Agustin Braham: Your wrong
[16:29] Agustin Braham: the hit came from the unicerse trying to wake him up
[16:29] Agustin Braham: universe
[16:29] Nymphet Sahara: hOLY HELL hahahahahaha
[16:29] Nymphet Sahara: you are fucking awesome!
[16:30] Agustin Braham: Nope
[16:30] Nymphet Sahara: it’s TRUE
[16:30] Agustin Braham: Just right
[16:30] Nymphet Sahara: hugs you so hard

Gold Coast


lakes of white moon milk ripple
in your dream. Supple
is your black skin, like the sacred
Modder Forest in the evening. Efua, your young
heart is like the thumping of your bare and drunken
feet, the drums’ tom-tom and the rhythmical harvest song.

Efua, in your dream the orange sun has ripened,
naked bride of the morning and stone of innocence. 
The wrists of your hands are light, like the hollow 
bones of birds. Like a reed in the wind — your waist.

The golden hair of corn sighs in your dream.
A river of copper water boils. The palm tree’s hands
beat the lazy wind in the shadow. You hold
your bow and arrow raised high. Efua, your winding path

is followed by the cunning eye of the tiger. But you
will overcome the beast and the dark foliage, where
the odd dreams of monkeys dangle and the wind’s cool knives hang
after slicing a soft cloud. Warm lakes
of moon milk are steaming in your dream.
Efua, in your long, long dream.

-Henrikas Nagys


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