Today, June 20th, marks a day of blogging and tweeting against sexual harassment. Follow #endSH on Twitter to see more pieces (Arabic and English) against sexual harassment. Here are some relevant Canonball pieces that I have taken part in.
To all those men- young, old, religious, secular, rich, poor- who think that your words convey flattery, that your actions are excused, I dedicate the following.
When you say, “Hello, Beautiful,” I think about taking my half-empty can of Coke and dumping it on your head.
When you hiss at me, I think about shooting at you with a squirt-gun full of bleach and ruining your brand new shirt. I think about “accidentally” getting bleach in your eye.
When you say, “Suck my dick,” [or, more accurately, “Sick my duck.”] I think about having my taller friend hold you down while I cut your face.
When you grab my ass, I think about grabbing your hand and breaking your index finger. I think about smashing a glass bottle over your head.
When you rub your crotch, I think about jamming my blunt keys into your junk. I think about throat-punching you, and I think about taking off my shoe and breaking your nose with it.
I think about watching you get hit by a car. I think about pulling the hair out of your head and making your scalp bleed. I think about breaking your knees with a large stick. I think about buying a gun in Ataba and aiming it at your left temple. I think about poking out your eyes with a rusty spoon. I think about castrating you.
I never thought I’d think about taking a human life, much less as a fucked-up coping mechanism. I never thought I’d literally hate men, that I’d resent my own brothers, my own father, my best friends. But, here we are.
You, on the other hand, have gotten your kicks from humiliating a woman who you don’t know. I will continue to carry my burden of rage. Congratulations. You’re the man now, dawg.
(Image by Ayman Farag; Cross-posted to my Tumblr)