Alissa Golob, head of Campaign Life Coalition Youth on the current situation at the University of Victoria. But I guess what she just can’t seem to wrap her head around is the fact that pro-choice does not equal pro-abortion. Or the fact that abortion is in no way about having power over anyone. It’s about the right to bodily autonomy and believing that women know what is right for them and their own body at whatever point in their life. And if a pro-life club was genuinely about doing no harm, then perhaps they would review and drastically revise their tactics and maybe promote comprehensive sex education and provide a variety of birth control to the general public, instead of spewing this abstinence only garbage that CLEARLY does not work.
For the entire shitty, biased-as-fuck article, go here: http://www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2010/may/10050408.html
I can write the saddest verses tonight.
Write, for example, “The night is full of stars, twinkling blue, in the distance.”
The night wind spins in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest verses tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times beneath the infinite sky.
She loved me, at times I loved her too. How not to have loved her great still eyes.
I can write the saddest verses tonight. To think that I don’t have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the verse falls onto my soul like dew onto grass.
What difference that my love could not keep her. The night is full of stars, and she is not with me.
That’s all. In the distance, someone sings. In the distance. My soul is not at peace with having lost her.
As if to bring her closer, my gaze searches for her, my heart searches for her, and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees. We, of then, now are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, it’s true, but how much I loved her. My voice searched for the wind that would touch her ear.
Another’s. She will be another’s. As before my kisses. Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, it’s true, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms, my soul is not at peace with having lost her.
Thought this may be the final sorrow she causes me, and these the last verses I write for her.
- Pablo Neruda
My afternoon has been spent baking with my mother and discussing how dubstep is the kind of music you listen to when you’re high. except for me. i like it always.
My mother also told me i’m a good dancer. awe. cute, mom.