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https://sheila-127.mjcyd.asia/xb/94qBMjX
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odinsblog · 22 hours
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“I've often wondered, as any Black American I imagine, what kind of slave would I have been? But my question for white Americans is, but what kind of master would you have been? I think that's a legitimate question.
I write about the difficulties of being segregated against, of being abused, but I think sometimes it might be interesting for white Americans to write, and I think it would be difficult, but maybe not. What kind of master would you be? I think that's a legitimate question.
I think it's one of the reasons that a lot of people like to ban books, and we're looking at some of the governance up there, ‘Well, we don't want these stories told.’ But these stories have to be told because you have to ask yourself, what would I have been? What kind of person?
Who would I be if I encounter those unlike me?
You know, there's a card, one of my favorite cards, it's just a card you can purchase at any place. It says teaching your child not to step on a caterpillar does as much for your child as it does the caterpillar. And I've always loved it.
I have bunches, I buy it by the box and I send it out to friends. Because yeah, the caterpillar is just gonna die and the caterpillar’s like, ‘this fool's gonna step on me.’ But it teaches your child it's okay to step on something that's underneath you, that's smaller than you, that might could use your help.
But more, if you leave the caterpillar alone, it will become a butterfly. And look at that, look at the joy just watching a butterfly brings. So, you know, you have to ask who would I be if I could be my better person?”
—Nikki Giovanni
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“Yes.” | “Kneel.” | Best of Three | Correspondence | Appraisal | Collapse
This, uh… owner? Isn’t all that bad. Could be a whole lot worse.
The hand sliding down his back isn’t welcome, but Major doesn’t fight it. He knows better. He knows better.
Shoulders angled down toward the floor an inch below them, dejected gray eyes locked onto a piece of dust just out of focus on the carpet, Major keeps from shaking off the touch. It’s not as creepy as it could be. Just seems to be, like… feeling along his spine as if checking for bruising on the piece of fruit he’s considering at the supermarket. Or checking out the ridges and valleys of his scars, but there’s no lingering fondles across the thick burn-ruined skin.
The smell of the guy’s breath hits him before the sound of his voice. Major holds his ground, only shifting to press his forehead to the floor as he listens. “I paid for one that leans into it. I won’t be all that hands-on, but still. I did pay for it.”
If he was in his right mind, Major would buck against that. Try to break the guy’s nose, maybe beat him for a while before killing him. But the warning, as polite as it might’ve been, hits like ice to his teeth. The training, with the gun and the consequences a split-second after each test… Major barely survived. He isn’t gonna fuck it up now. Especially not when he’s alone, bent down over his own knees, in some guy’s house.
The hand comes in for another swipe down his back, and this time Major arches up against it. Just slightly. It might not have been enough, he might be fucking up, there could be a gun held above his head where he can’t see it but he’ll hear the click of it, and… oh. He’s rewarded as if he was an eager purring cat, by an approving hum from above.
Disgust rises as goosebumps across his skin. But Major sinks down and feels his heartbeat thrumming in his temple after the terror of nearly disappointing the guy who… custom ordered a pissy, stubborn prisoner freshly trained to obey.
His mind goes blank, suddenly, when the guy ruffles his hair. Major doesn’t even fully register the condescending gesture, just lets his head be rocked back and forth with the rough petting to fried hair.
The voice, airy in a weird way, comes from higher above than Major was expecting. Thought the buyer would be leaning down close, but he’s up on one knee to rise, maybe. “Come on. Since you’re doing good enough. Got something to show you.”
The guy’s walking, and Major isn’t sure what to do. He’s scrambling up to follow, but a fog of stress locks his knees so he can’t stand. Is he… fuck, allowed to stand? To walk? Frozen by worry but spurred on by the fear of falling behind and breaking some unspoken rule, Major lurches forward on his hands and knees. No more goosebumps, no self-loathing curled tight in his stomach. The room feels cold when he goes numb and compliant.
The guy slows to a stop. When he turns to stare down at Major in bewilderment, it’s the first time Major sees him in full. He’s not… big. Slick black hair buzzed down on the sides and in the back. Tattoos across his face in swirling font that Major can’t read, a piercing in his nose. Which all would look tough, except there’s no real muscle on him, and even if there was it would be hard to see because the guy’s in a big sweater with a dress shirt poking out from under the sleeves and neckline.
Major swallows, trying to decide if the guy looks tough, or weak, or cool or lame. He’s distracted by a judgy scoff that sets his jaw clenching.
“What are you doing?” It’s not as mean as it could be, not cutting. Just too amused. “Crap, I didn’t think they were giving me one that thinks it’s a dog. Just walk.”
The words sting, through the numb distance he’d built up, and it’s more frustrating than it is humiliating. Major shoves himself upward and sways onto his feet, blinking against the odd waves of adrenaline and exhaustion.
“Just walk, we’re not… oh fu-... frick.” The buyer doubles back, hands raised and hurried. Major flinches back, eyes widening against the black fuzz swallowing his vision. He falls rapidly sideways, or upward, maybe… the world is spinning and he can’t figure out which way is down. He’ll be killed. He’s getting grabbed, fingers digging into his arms, he’s gonna die!
The room goes black, as pain erupts in his skull, and all sensations fade away.
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nesiacha · 2 days
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Tribute to all these revolutionary women coming from the overseas departments and Haiti who fought at risk of their lives for their freedoms and forgotten even more than the women of the French revolution in metropolitan France already well despised.
In this post, although there are many of them, I will cite two of them, I will perhaps write a more detailed post when I have time because it is shameful that these women are not better known: -Sanité Bélair: Lieutenant of Toussaint Louverture, considered the soul of the conspiracy, particularly with her husband Charles Belair and fighter against Leclerc. She was captured, sentenced to death and shot. She showed great courage during her execution like many of her peers. She died but not her ideals and became a great symbol She is considered one of the great heroines of Haiti's fight for independence alongside Catherine Flon, Cecile Faitman and Dédée Bazile. On the Guadeloupe side we have Rosalie alias Solitude, whose historian Mathilde Larrère has written a magnificent article that I invite everyone to read. This woman had joined the community of "maroons". While she was a few months pregnant, she fought against the reestablishment of slavery. Captured, she will be executed like so many others after giving birth. When will there be more tribute to these women by exploring these parts of France? Personally I prefer a hundred (or even a thousand) times more to pay homage to them than Napoleon, who in my opinion, if he survived, failed as emperor, where the people I cited who died for their ideas had a posthumous victory. on the abolition of slavery and the independence of Haiti). Frankly beside the point when we are presented with Madame de Stael or Louise de Prussia as the only female figures standing against Napoleon, I am very sorry that they make a very pale figure regarding the women mentioned earlier (I am not saying that in a goal to clash with Louise of Prussia and Madame de Stael but rather the "thinkers" we can see in media, movie, who voluntarily cite only them to obscure the others because they believe that we can judge Napoleon magnanimously on what he did concerning slavery and do not focus only on the Europe part or worst to the goal to justify the horrors that France did to Guadeloupeans, Reunionese, Haitians, etc, or to the thinkers who only believe in white feminism, etc…).
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Hello 👋
I’m a professional domme and a very powerful hypnotist
Dm me if you’re ready to be hypnotized
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northern-punk-lad · 24 days
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A very important video on the money Glasgow made from the empire and especially Scotland role in the slave trade
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sayruq · 2 months
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Here's his GoFundMe. It has passed its initial goal but keep sharing and donate if you can to help Hamza.
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animentality · 2 months
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reality-detective · 8 months
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If you thought it was a load of crap?
Think Again 🤔
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thatdiva · 9 months
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profeminist · 7 months
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Source: "Cunk on Earth is a British mockumentary television series produced by Charlie Brooker. The series stars Diane Morgan as Philomena Cunk." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cunk_on_Earth
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marysweetmisstress · 2 months
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Mistress marry is here to dress you up,DM if interested
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