January 27, 2014
Since I realized that the conglomerate thinks it's hilarious, rather than a sickening, dehumanizing invasion of my privacy, to videotape me in bathrooms, I have turned off the light everywhere that I have had to visit a bathroom, whenever I could turn the light off.
This afternoon, it occurred to me that I haven't read in the bathroom in years. Even after I got my apartment last year and didn't have to share a bathroom with other people, I haven't read in the bathroom once.
Reading in the bathtub was something that I liked to do; I wistfully think of the time in my life when I didn't have to worry about something other than the safety of the pages of whatever I was reading.
I don't know when I might be able to have a bath with candles in the bathroom.
These are not expensive or elite pastimes; like many of the things that the conglomerate has stolen from me with hateful glee, they are things that I have every right to do and that I can't do.
What the conglomerate and those who subscribe to a conglomerate way of thinking seem to expect me to do is to prove that I don't deserve to be harassed, stalked, continuously discriminated against, and sexually assaulted through voyeurism and other means. I'm supposed to spend an indefinite amount of time proving this; years, if not forever. I'm supposed to prove it by being as dowdy as possible; then the conglomerate attacks me for being ugly and portrays me as being a hilariously pathetic, middle-aged masturbator. I'm supposed to eliminate all sensuality from my life, while the conglomerate tells the world that men my age should be having sex with teenagers and that all adults should be dealing with their sexual insecurities not by learning mature, educated sexual expression but by having sex with children.
I'm not the one who's blind.
Copyright L. Kochman, January 27, 2014 @ 5:42 p.m.
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