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#intimidation
The other day Lisa, Anna and I overheard a nonversation that took me back in time to high school. We were at Ascot for day three (ladies' day), to see the fashion, the silly hats, the horse races (called stakes & cups) and maybe even gawk at some famous people. Anna, Lisa and I were sitting at our table in the Windsor Enclosure - a flat area right by the racetrack. The other five girls in our clique (Leong, Sunny, Kim, Bili, and Sophy) had stepped away to be ready for the royals arrival at 2pm sharp.   Everyone was well dressed, men in waistcoat and tie, and we women in formal daywear. The table closest to us was populated with another squad of college age teens. We tend to be garrulous but that other mixed coterie (16 guys and girls) weren’t friendly at all. They were insular and sharp eyed - they projected an air of smirking pride - a bunch of edinas. Suddenly this one girl at the next table just comes-at another girl verbally. There seemed nothing the target girl could do except hold her head up, put on her best debate-smile and weather it out. I don’t know if you’ve ever been exposed to it, but the exclusionary voice of the rich, consists of acrid, inactively-terse asides delivered with casual, drive-by cruelty. The most insufferable rich think (know) that they’re better than you - like you know you’re better than a cabbage or a dog and they are merciless, their hearts are made of hard, black-card plastic. When used on pretenders, interlopers or social mountain climbers - the cold and mesmerizing bluntness can have a deep psychological effect. The response is usually passive intimidation but it can also induce violence. This attitude (I think of it as “the voice”), is learned by example, and mastered early. I heard an eight year old girl turn it on a sales clerk once. Her mom apologized and reined in the little princess - but where do you think she learned it from?   Anna looked at me, her eyebrows drawn down in alarm, Lisa said “Wowzer.” I just shook my head and shrugged - it wasn’t our business, we certainly didn’t know those knobs or what kicked it off - but we noted who the mean girl was - Anna even took her pic. They were Cree-P. Our little group was soon reunited. We briefly gossiped about our rude, socially-obsessed neighbors but the incident was soon forgotten. Our champagne and strawberries arrived moments before Princess Anne and her daughter, Zara Tindall, rode by (20 feet away) in the Lead Carriage. Now THERE are some REAL, world-class snobs. I hate that whole-ass upper-class attitude. That’s one reason to choose Yale over Harvard - fewer snobs.
0
Jun 22, 2022
Jun 22, 2022 at 11:36 AM UTC
mean girl
The other day Lisa, Anna and I overheard a nonversation that took me back in time to high school. We were at Ascot for day three (ladies' day), to see the fashion, the silly hats, the horse races (called stakes & cups) and maybe even gawk at some famous people. Anna, Lisa and I were sitting at our table in the Windsor Enclosure - a flat area right by the racetrack. The other five girls in our clique (Leong, Sunny, Kim, Bili, and Sophy) had stepped away to be ready for the royals arrival at 2pm sharp.   Everyone was well dressed, men in waistcoat and tie, and we women in formal daywear. The table closest to us was populated with another squad of college age teens. We tend to be garrulous but that other mixed coterie (16 guys and girls) weren’t friendly at all. They were insular and sharp eyed - they projected an air of smirking pride - a bunch of edinas. Suddenly this one girl at the next table just comes-at another girl verbally. There seemed nothing the target girl could do except hold her head up, put on her best debate-smile and weather it out. I don’t know if you’ve ever been exposed to it, but the exclusionary voice of the rich, consists of acrid, inactively-terse asides delivered with casual, drive-by cruelty. The most insufferable rich think (know) that they’re better than you - like you know you’re better than a cabbage or a dog and they are merciless, their hearts are made of hard, black-card plastic. When used on pretenders, interlopers or social mountain climbers - the cold and mesmerizing bluntness can have a deep psychological effect. The response is usually passive intimidation but it can also induce violence. This attitude (I think of it as “the voice”), is learned by example, and mastered early. I heard an eight year old girl turn it on a sales clerk once. Her mom apologized and reined in the little princess - but where do you think she learned it from?   Anna looked at me, her eyebrows drawn down in alarm, Lisa said “Wowzer.” I just shook my head and shrugged - it wasn’t our business, we certainly didn’t know those knobs or what kicked it off - but we noted who the mean girl was - Anna even took her pic. They were Cree-P. Our little group was soon reunited. We briefly gossiped about our rude, socially-obsessed neighbors but the incident was soon forgotten. Our champagne and strawberries arrived moments before Princess Anne and her daughter, Zara Tindall, rode by (20 feet away) in the Lead Carriage. Now THERE are some REAL, world-class snobs. I hate that whole-ass upper-class attitude. That’s one reason to choose Yale over Harvard - fewer snobs.
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10
Gun in one hand, bible in the other. Is not the word a sword? Why need for a gun too? Or is it a justification to **** The same as a rocket launcher on one shoulder, and the koran in the other hand. Or a flag in one hand, and a sword in the other. The image says justified intimidation. Fear me, for I have the Authority. But really, the Authority is only as valid as there are fools who submit. And the only true authority is the gun, or sword, as you certainly know it. And the flag, or bible, or the koran, are but for your own conscience. or cover for your lack thereof. The bible and the gun: an oxymoron; a display of faithlessness, the defilement of holiness, a blasphemous act; affirming the proud fool you are, that says in its heart, there is no God!
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May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 4:51 AM UTC
Oxymoron
I really, really don’t want to be beautiful. I want to make people tremble. I want to walk into a room and turn people’s heads- not because I’m pretty, but because I walked in with such confidence that people go **** I want the wrong people to be scared by me, and the right people to take me as a challenge, but I want everyone to be intimidated by me. I want to be the woman no one dares **** with. I want to be compared to Cleopatra- not in terms of how pretty or symmetrical her face was, but because she seduces men into her bed with her mind and intellect. I want to be compared to powerful and unstoppable forces of nature, where they aren’t powerful Because of their beauty, but beautiful because of their power. So this is why I get insulted when you call me pretty before you call me smart.
0
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC
Merely pretty
Realisation of thrilling intimidation Silenced words and holding looks The second I gaze up and find your eyes, for those seconds I am stuck in a fragile moment Not wanting to leave but unable to admit what’s keeping me so transfixed. Caught by your eyes in something, that I cannot back away from Stillness of those exhilarating moments Wishing you would reach out and touch me, lighting this electricity purring through my blood Too cowardly to act on my own desires, my own wishful fate I patiently wait. Wait for a little more secluded occasion, away from fear of opinion or judgment Enjoying the lost moment and loud vibration, Drowning out all conversation and surroundings Unnoticed by others, whilst being unmoved by others Hoping that my feeling doesn’t go unrequited, but if it were… We wouldn’t play these games together I smile and shatter the glass bubble in which we have held ourselves
0
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 5:49 AM UTC
Realisation of your thrilling intimidation- A love letter
They criticize her and make her hate the moment Her dignity and pride is stolen They break her stance and potent She does succumb the omen They offer her zero condolence They laugh and mock and curse her They call her ************ They call her a **** and other names of such They drain her to danger red They call her witch and theft They make her hate herself She scurf her face and wept She cry herself to sleep at night; Hoping that things would change She 'd told herself that things 'd be right; One day my pain and scar would fade and if she would never fly She said " I’d rather die" She strive to reframe her picture Her heart and soul is injured She strive to reframe her name So she 'll overcome her shame Now the path to succeed is open She's out the heat of oven She smiles behind her rolex Her foes is rendered goalless Her shame has turned to fame And her life is not the same Her haters now adore and love her Now none of them can stop her Their hate and game and hurt is the reason for what she'd turn
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC
Untitled
Don't look into his eyes, look down He's bigger than you and he wears a frown You can't rely on your fists Fighting is not your gift you are not action man or a superhero Violence won't win the day your too proud to cry and tears hide behind your eyes stiff upper lip has you caught behind it. You have no rights as a father You hope to God she won't take your children away Being a Saturday Dad is not ok Your insecurity is she find someone better than you Is love enough will it do?
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Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 8:50 AM UTC
Average man
Locked up tight in a lover's cage Easy target for all his rage Lies being continually fed I love you was said Caught in his web Sweetly tainted words he continued to weave How was I ever that ****** naive Blindly continuing to believe Moved far from home and friends, freedom firmly suppressed Long sleepless nights and days of no rest As his crazy obsessions slowly manifest Walking on eggshells till the next rampage Locked up tight in an iron cage Easy prey for all his rage Never really knowing why or when the next attack One word taken wrong, my jaw he would jack Kept constantly pregnant, so I couldn't fight back I realize from the outside looking in it's hard to construe People say leave, but they haven't the slightest clue But here on the inside, he means every death threat that's spewed They just don't know that type of griping fear Of keeping your children safe and near While trying to hide all the violence from their eyes and ears What if I left, tried to break free Would he **** me, like he promised with glee Would the kids survive, there's no guarantee I know if he raised them, they would surely be twisted As adults would they follow in his steps, also be addicted I fear their view of love would grow so sadistic I was determined to get my kids out of his hellish cage alive One day my opportunity did faithfully arrive Leaving him to rot in his own putrid cell, while watching us thrive NEVER AGAIN Will I be locked up in a lover's cage NEVER AGAIN Will I be an easy target for rage ©Pauline Russell
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Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 1:55 PM UTC
A Lover's Cage...... A Lover's Rage
Locked up tight in a lover's cage Easy target for all his rage Lies being continually fed I love you was said Caught in his web Sweetly tainted words he continued to weave How was I ever that ****** naive Blindly continuing to believe Moved far from home and friends, freedom firmly suppressed Long sleepless nights and days of no rest As his crazy obsessions slowly manifest Walking on eggshells till the next rampage Locked up tight in an iron cage Easy prey for all his rage Never really knowing why or when the next attack One word taken wrong, my jaw he would jack Kept constantly pregnant, so I couldn't fight back I realize from the outside looking in it's hard to construe People say leave, but they haven't the slightest clue But here on the inside, he means every death threat that's spewed They just don't know that type of griping fear Of keeping your children safe and near While trying to hide all the violence from their eyes and ears What if I left, tried to break free Would he **** me, like he promised with glee Would the kids survive, there's no guarantee I know if he raised them, they would surely be twisted As adults would they follow in his steps, also be addicted I fear their view of love would grow so sadistic I was determined to get my kids out of his hellish cage alive One day my opportunity did faithfully arrive Leaving him to rot in his own putrid cell, while watching us thrive NEVER AGAIN Will I be locked up in a lover's cage NEVER AGAIN Will I be an easy target for rage ©Pauline Russell
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37
I’ve always been intimidated By the man in the mirror With his cocky face and his self-assured grin I’ve always been imitated By the man in the mirror With his worried sigh and his eyes full of doubt
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
The man in the mirror
Why are you shouting out loud? Are you saying I am too proud? Do you think I am undeserving? If so, it is completely unnerving That you don’t want me to own What you see as yours alone; A sense of dignity and hope. You must see me as a dope Who can’t see you getting rich. You are one shallow sonofabitch If you think just calling me villain Will somehow make me willing To give up my own free voice So that only you have a choice About how much I will make And which decisions I take About my own home and body. Can you really be that shoddy? Well, yes, I have learned you are. You think you are a superstar And are immune to decency That your star is in ascendency. Well, I really hope that it is not And that your tail gets caught In the door before it slams And we see the last of your scams And your nepotistic buddy deals And get back to what is real And proper for our poor nation Instead of graft and intimidation That makes wealth for a few. Nothing for me, all for you.
0
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
MANDAMUS
I never had those red fights caused by small stuff. Neither did I experience those orange walks by the sea. I never woke up to yellow sunrise next to anyone. Not even a green stroll around one's favorite garden. I wish I had known how to turn one's blues during late night calls. And turn them to indigo fantasies at once. And make one's violet eyes brighter. I only know of a sea of grey. A bit of white and an ocean of black. I feel comfort in my own spot of darkness. Fearing any inch of light will cause a mess. There were two or three who tried to pull me out, But I refused for I did not understand. For now I shall stay where I am, And feel the make-believe comfort I have made.
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
Not once.
chilling, careless smile, your eyes perambulate the caverns of my soul
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
Chilling (Senryu)
There is something breeding in the underbelly; whirling and churning like an epicenter of *********** trends. Someone found the formula to turn a profit on karma, while we were distracted by viral beheadings. Powder white moths opening mental portals through the dazzling lights of self-immolation while I trudge block after block through the snow wearing slippers because I had to storm out. The classes continue, the mail keeps going out, coming in, and I'm obsessing over a splinter of worry; unavailing at best. I keep thinking of how nice it'd be to see Seattle   and to stand near one of those Sequoia trees I've only seen on Google. I keep thinking of how I'd like to see The Grand Canyon and to to walk in the Arizona deserts with no socks or shoes; the heat of the fine sand sneaking up between my toes while the sky beats my pupils with that astounding blue. Why am always alone in my fantasies? Why is it that I can't handle the day-to-day? Am I really even searching for answers, or am I begging for what I want to hear? My maturity and stoicity are rubber ***** bouncing on a line graph. I can't go on bottling the venom that pools in my gut.
0
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
Anxiety (is a physical substance and a word, both of which press upon the shoulders.)
He was afraid of the reflections of hell that could be seen on her fiery red lipstick. Forgiveness that is unlikely, her last words to him burnt him from the inside. Her heart was a game to him, and now he'll have to beg for his life to win it.
0
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
Hell of A Woman