I’ve seen many woman of colour who were fat and sexy but I’ve never seen any white woman who would be fat and sexy at the same time. Not anymore.
I’ve read one Muslim girl’s impression about the liberation of woman in our culture, seen as their enslavement to the icon of certain sexual appeal.
British girls I saw last year in winter were almost naked parading in thick body wears in five degrees snowy rain. It was Friday evening, obligatory party to start the weekend as our western lifestyle requires, when one never heard of better thing to do.
I’ve commented few blogs of Muslim girls and discovered that they were never interested in inspirational partnership, always remaining distant and making me feel like official guest.
Many Polish girls dresses in black and clatters on high heels like the horses. Their touch hurts and they take advantage of partnership. They become your woman even though you never asked for it. It is difficult but possible to remain physically free and single minded, facing such forced relationship.
Many Polish woman suffers publicly and forces their maternity on man. Many men drinks. People tend to own each other instead of living next to each other. Warsaw is my hometown. Except retired women and drunk men I haven’t seen an adult who would not be in a hurry past four years.
When I’m downtown, pressure from hurrying bodies takes over. My stomach and lungs lose half of their volume. I have to clench my fists in the pockets all the time to keep personal space, remain myself, not in the hurry, peaceful minded. I know how to be on time. On a bus people fear my peace first and than yawn around me.
What does the Afghan woman thinks about us hidden in her blue burka. How do they recognize each other?
I listened to two girls in waiting room recently. They were awing over some photos of one’s great grandmother. They couldn’t stop to admire her hair. It hasn’t been painted many times since the age of fourteen and she ate normal food not the mass production junk.
The dumb blonde jokes are nothing more than just reflection of how dumb we, as the society are.
I used to be ashamed of my body, now I prefer to be considered vulgar than restraint. Balance lies in not taking seriously not mine problems with happy world perception. I love myself and I’m not ashamed of my body nor it’s functioning. When I feel like healing I sleep, eat, exercise and meditate few days in a row.
Women seem to know man’s biology quite well, why don’t I ever know if she is tensed because she is menstruating?
She told me that my nose is too big but I have a nice chest, legs, butt and lips. I though that she is infinite before that and so was I touching her.
I understand American expression on “I don’t care”, the one – “I don’t give a fu*k” much better now. I’m writing all of it naked.


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