How fascinating it is that there are millions of people all over the world who are wide awake at 4 am missing someone. And there are millions of people sound asleep at 4 am, with no idea that they’re being missed.
It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.
You don’t believe in the objectification of women? Then explain to me why I am a straight female, with no history of ever being attracted to women, and I have still probably checked out thousands more women than men. As human beings, we are contaminated from the day we are first able to understand what a poster means. We are conditioned to believe that boobs and butts and thigh gaps and small waists are all so sexy, so very sexy. Victoria’s Secret, Playboy, Sports Illustrated—nearly every magazine and ad sells the female body to both men and women. You think women don’t want to see more of the male body? Hell, if every ad was like Abercrombie and Fitch, a lot more women would probably walk around checking out men on their abs, pelvis, butt, biceps. But we don’t. Because most of the time, the male body is covered. On HBO, I’ve seen female nudity countless times but never once have I seen a glimpse of a dick. So tell me, what is it that is so inherently sexual about the female body? Why must we judge women for being women, while judging men for being human?