Today I finished a gruelling essay that, although made me want to die, I really enjoyed writing. The subject I wrote it on is something I am extremely passionate about and the only reason I regret not starting it weeks ago is because if I did, I would have had more time to to completely destroy whoever is marking my work (unless they’re voting Britain First…in which case they’ll fail me instantly). But I’m lazy, and that took control of me. So I have a bone to pick with those people who talk shit about those of us who study arts subjects at university. You know – literature, philosophy, religion, theatre, music, photography, social sciences etc.
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My 500 Words, Day 5: Write What You Know

Oh my GOD  a photo of WOMAN THINGS oh my GOD better DELETE MY BLOG so diSGUSTING!(!(!!))
PMS. I’ll take all the painkillers with a fat duvet and a side of 2 cherry cokes with 5 cheesecakes please, also get the fuck over here and love me because I want to rip your head off with my teeth so I can cradle it like a baby.
The reason I started with TMI is because girls lack the TMI that they need. Looking back, as a girl who was still learning about what it means to be a woman, I didn’t want people tiptoeing around a sensitive topic and making sure everything is man-friendly. I needed TMI, I needed detail and brutal truth. We don’t need those tampon adverts showing us that women are bright and happy whilst half bleeding to death, we need the realities of waking up and being too cautious to move out of bed in case you paint the sheets red, the stomach cramps that make you pass out, the fact that going through something natural is so damn expensive.
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My 500 Words, Day 3: Get up early

I woke up at 9something am this morning, which isn’t ‘early’ for most, but it’s early for me on a day that I don’t have uni or work. I woke up first because my phone was ringing, but since I never pick up phonecalls, I left it. They can leave a message if it’s important, or they can call 3 more times. But then the house phone rang, and let me tell you something about my mum.
SHE CAN’T LIE TO PEOPLE WHEN THEY ASK FOR ME. She never called in school for me when I was sort of sick, so my dad did it in his white man voice. She will always ask someone if they want to speak to me on the phone next when I’m in the room, even though I CLEARLY say no. And this morning was no different. Happily thinking I’d avoided a phonecall, I almost fall back asleep, but then I hear the house phone, followed by my mother saying “yes, hold on please” over footsteps, and I could only clear my throat as hard as I could hoping to God that my silent slumber wouldn’t prevent me from speaking. My mother comes into my room, WAKES ME UP and shoves a phone in my face. And then I have to speak with my croaky-ass just woke up voice and a brain that hasn’t even stirred yet, so I have no idea of what I’m saying. On the phone was my dentist calling to ask if everything is okay after my appointment yesterday [how cute]. A 10 second phonecall, but because they were just so nice I wasn’t mad.
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