no, not a feminist

“i can see right away, you have a real man in the house,” she said. “why?” i asked her. “all your knives are very sharp,” she replied. and i took offence. even when she said it was only in jest, i felt offended. there has never been, and never will be a man, real or […]

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words bounce like little lemmings on the sea-water the sounds slide leatherly similar to falling leaves on glass and stick, closely to the inside of one’s skull sullen, swollen, unscratchable silent, like a bloated hedgehog the unthought turns on its owner  

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