Rants, arguments, experiences, more rants, criticism, love, more rants. Feminist and lesbian.I will speak my life out to defend what I believe in, because I think it is time for the world to change and at long last be a place completely worth living in.Advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights.
Musicology should never become an end in itself, but rather provide us with the means to make the best interpretation, since a performance is only faithful to the original when a work is allowed to come most beautifully and most clearly to expression, something which happens only when knowledge and a sense of responsibility ally themselves with the deepest musical sensitivity.
First love isn’t the person you liked for the very first time. It’s the person that you cannot completely erase out of your life no matter how much time passes.
I didn’t believe it
until I met you
I fell in love with someone I shouldn't have almost 3 years ago: 2 years and 8 months to be precise. I fell in love with a woman at least 30 years older than me, that I see at least one time per week, that I love in other ways apart from a romantic one, that loves me not romantically, that I admire, that I respect, that makes my heart go wild and my muscles turn useless... This woman made me realize my sexuality, this woman has healed my deepest wounds, this woman has taught me so many things I know... I fell in love with this woman the day I met her, I can tell you that love at first sight does exist. What even is love? Why does love happen? Why does the "heart" choose those that we can't have? They say that you never forget your first love, I say that's true, and I also say you never stop loving your first love, you never really get over your first love. I feel like I'll never love again, how could I? How can someone feel anything this strong? Why can someone feel anything this strong? It's constant pain and constant joy, parallel pain and joy, at all times. That is what love actually is. I hate love, I love love, I love you my woman and I think I might hate you even more.
sexual history does not define purity. i have seen pure. it is my friend silently moving things so her blind girlfriend doesn’t have to grope around for them. it is the seven year old student i had who learned how to sign “want to play” so he could talk to his deaf neighbor. it is the morning i woke up to find my dog and two cats all sleeping next to each other. it is in small beautiful moments: holding someone’s hand so they can work through a panic attack, giving someone a smooth rock from the ocean, a little boy being a princess, the look on a child’s face the first time they read a book on their own from start to finish. pure is paying for someone’s coffee, is giving up time for soup kitchens, is staying up late to help a friend work through things. it’s saying “yes, i’ll help,” even when you’re dead tired and you need help yourself.
this world is full of terrible things people can do to each other and yet we don’t see “pure” as the moments that matter. we see it as one black or white possibility: either you are a virgin and holy or you are unclean. but people are not blankets of snow. we don’t dirty for letting people in. no. when we love, we only become more beautiful.
Is anyone else really scared of what will happen to the LGBT+ movement once we get marriage equality in every state? I just imagine every ally going “welp. Job well done. Looks like everything is fine now” when marriage is like the least important issue for queer survival?
Martha Argerich 74th Birthday Countdown | 20 days to go.
Martha Argerich isn’t only one of the greatest musicians of all times, there is something about her that no one has ever been able to ignore, and it is the fact that she is one of the most beautiful women to have ever set foot on earth.
“Wearing mini-skirts and chain smoking cigarettes, the beautiful Argentine pianist took the musical world by storm in 1965 when she won the International Frederick Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw, Poland” (x)
“At 60, she is a beauty. When she was young, she was very beautiful and at 90, she will still be very beautiful”, said the violinist Ivry Gitlits at an interview.
One can go on forever with the well deserved mentions of Martha’s looks through the times (which, by the way, she thinks are nothing out of the ordinary as she said in an interview in 1980 x), but one of the things that I find the most admirable of the classical music world is the fact that her external beauty has never once made opaque the talent the woman holds, that it has never opened her doors she had to find another key to and that she has never been reduced to only being a beautiful woman, “just a shell”.
Asexuals are confused.
Bisexuals are confused.
Pansexuals are confused.
Homosexuals are confused.
Heterosexuals are confused.
Everyone is confused as to why you think you should have a say about a relationship that doesn’t involve you.
It is sad, it is just sad and infuriating that being a woman is a reason to have to be on guard all day.
I can’t walk on the street with a dress or a skirt of a shirt with a tiny bit more cleavage or red lips or looking a certain way that makes me feel beautiful without being cat called. I am so tired of this. What makes men think they have any right at all to do this? It is not nice, it makes me feel worthless.
I never stop getting all these comments about my certain attitudes or positive characteristics, being called to be “like done by men”, can’t women be successful, intelligent, strong?
I can’t even buy food without being immediately flashed and covered with extremely sexual advertisement that make women immediately get lowered to be seen as objects instead of people.
I see my teachers and women in my family killing themselves with hours and hours worth of work and still not getting the same credit as some asshole of a man that sits behind a desk all day.
A single day doesn’t pass in which I don’t get made fun of at school for speaking out that I identify as a feminist.
A single day doesn’t pass in which people don’t make comments about my looks instead of maybe stopping to read the things I write or listen to the things I say.
You ask why I need feminism (and if it bothers you the fact that female gender is used in that word well then call it equality and live your life in peace! I will still say feminism) I say, why wouldn’t I need feminism? Why wouldn’t I want to be recognized for what I do? Why wouldn’t I want to be heard regardless of what I look like? Why wouldn’t I want to feel safe walking on the street at any hour in any attire?
Why?
Because I have to fight for it instead of being born with it. That is why.