I want my badass wings back

I am different, you should trust me he said. I wept and wept. And frowned the saddest frown.

Moi, je ris à travers mes larmes, je ris par un suprême effort de courage, comme l’Indien que l’on brûle, comme le martyr que l’on tenaille ; je suis content de moi…

After four years of the weeping, I started to laugh.

Gotta stop sobbing now
Yeah yeah stop it stop it
It is time for you to laugh instead of crying
Yes it’s time for you to laugh so keep on trying oh oh oh
There’s one thing you gotta do
Nietzsche, his face buried in his hands, nodded. “It’s strange, but at the very moment when I, for the first time in my life, reveal my loneliness in all its depth, in all its despair — at that precise moment, loneliness melts away! The moment I told you I had never been touched was the very moment I first allowed myself to be touched. An extraordinary moment, as though some vast, interior icepack suddently cracked and shattered.”
“A paradox!” said Breuer. “Isolation exists only in isolation. Once shared, it evaporates.”

What kind of job should I get? I asked, circa 2011. Referencing Down and Out in Paris and London, something romantic he said.

And I just thought it would be perfect for us to be lettered Bohemian royalty. Almost like Greenwich Village in the twenties, politically engaged writers not doing anything bad.
I actually am grateful I did not have the legal right to work in France for a few months because it was so fun to just write and have that be my exertion day in and day out.
I was sort of hibernating because I had no money but I loved the satisfaction of writing new paragraphs, intellectual paragraphs, every day.

Last Wednesday he said I should move on and everything had been going so well I was so happy, and the quiet hell of sadness imposed itself with such force — I ate some chocolate and found out later there were psychadelic mushrooms in it.

I laughed and cried for several hours about being tricked and subjugated and so sad. It was a bad trip.

Why do people hate angry women? I asked my sister.
Because Kali.
Because Sehkmet. Because Athena.

Everything became clear to me.

The degradation, the submission and subjugation of the feminine sex and gender. The political hegemeny of kingship under the Abrahamic faiths.

I want my badass wings back, I wrote to my sister. This is an archetypal trope, I explained: Men lying to women and stealing their strength.

She promised to watch Maleficent.

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