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Everyone wears clothing, yes? Society divides these clothing up into Men & Women’s, Boys & Girls’, Jr. & Miss. But society cannot decide who wears what. While the fabric may be cut to suit a traditionally male or female body (boy or girls body), the second the buyer purchases the item, that clothing no longer becomes 'boys' or 'girls' clothes, but rather, the buyers clothes. This is an example of the individual defining the identity term vs. the identity term defining the individual. ↗
All girls say men are the same but I'm different, I don’t like calling girls hot or sexy because to me calling a girl that means you’re looking something of them. So I like using the word beautiful because beautiful is a very strong word and I feel it’s from the same category as love because love and beautiful come from the heart and not the eyes. ↗
And so these refined parents rejected their five-year-old girl to all kinds of torture. They beat her, kicked her, flogged her, for no reason that they themselves knew of. The child’s whole body was covered in bruises. Eventually they devised a new refinement. Under the pretext that the child dirtied her bed (as though a five-year-old deep in her angelic sleep could be punished for that), they forced her to eat excrement, smearing it all over her face. And it was the mother that did it! And that woman would lock her daughter up in the outhouse until morning and she did so even on the coldest nights, when it was freezing. Just imagine the woman being able to sleep with the child’s cries coming from that outhouse! Imagine that little creature, unable to even understand what is happening to her, beating her sore little chest with her tiny fist, weeping hot, unresentful, meek tears, and begging ‘gentle Jesus’ to help her… ...let’s assume that you were called upon to build the edifice of human destiny so that men would finally be happy and would find peace and tranquility. If you knew that, only to attain this, you would have to torture just one single creature, let’s say the little girl who beat her chest so desperately in the outhouse, and that on her unavenged tears you could build that edifice, would you agree to do it? ↗
And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house. ↗
