Dec 28, 2012


I have to be somewhere else,
in the next 15 mins.
What I am doing right now
does not matter.
They are just the ramblings
of an unpaid, unproductive, childless housewife.
Where I have to be,
in the next fifteen minutes
is a place that matters to you.
Where they count, store, multiply and divide money.
Where you are treated rightfully
by the size of your account
or the colour of your card.
Yet I think I would rather be here right now.
I don't want to die without leaving this unsaid.
I want a gun.
Then I want a shooting instructor,
a female shooting instructor.
Then I want to felicitate hospitals where they practice female foeticide.
Why waste time giving birth to puny things which will be raped or killed later on anyway?
Then I want pills which can quell my nausea.
I am retching violently.
My Facebook page lists updates on reports of crimes against women in my country.
But what chills me, is the endorsement of the 'Girl Child Gift Basket' right next to it.
Some hateful bastards want to celebrate the birth of these little girls.
Maybe they want to rape them tomorrow? 

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