My thoughts on Pedophiles.
Currently Listening To: Devil's Dance Floor- Flogging Molly
WARNING: Much anger ahead. Just so you know.
I fucking hate pedos. There are many things that I dislike, that I say I hate because hate is the word that comes to mind, but I actually hate pedophiles. Nothing pisses me off more than when people prey on and hurt those weaker than them, and in many cases, none are so much weaker than everyone that children.
Now, those who know me know for a fact that I'm wary of children in the first place. Kids bug me. If I ever have children, and Chris and I have been talking about it in the far future, I hope to Whichever Deity or Energy is listening that I develop the patience for them. But despite my misgivings for the little ankle-biters, people hurting them sets off my already short fuse. Call it feminine instict.
And nothing is more fuckered up than child molestation.
Let's think back to when we were children. Let's say, from the time you can actually remember to about 10. Remember when you knew sex existed, but you never saw it, like UFOs and El Chupacabra. I distinctly remember it. And though many of you really don't wanna know, I didn't start getting puberty-tinglies until I was at least 13. So when people spout this crap about how "children should be able to express themselves sexuall", I immediately call bullshit. Pure, stinking bullshit.
I don't know what pisses me off more; pedophiles or the people who defend them. I understand that they're sick, but just because they're sick in the head doesn't excuse them from the fact that they want to hurt children. And the kind of hurt they inflict can screw a child up faster than you think.
I should know. I don't specifically remember any of it, but I had dreams all through my childhood and into adult hood that I couldn't explain until my mom told me what happened when I was 17. Everything just sort of fell into place; why I didn't like people touching me, why I always had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when sex was intimately discussed, all the dreams I was having. It was as if things went into a still frame, tarnished, and.. well, I can't really describe what it was like. I suppose in a fucked up way it's akin to being told Santa Claus doesn't exist. There's nothing quite like being told the virginity and innocence you were cherishing so much doesn't exist. That the thing you were hoping to give to just the right person had been taken from you before you were even cognizent of what it meant.
And what's funny is that it was like I had always known. In my mind, right before my mom was about to tell me, I thought "Oh god, I was molested, wasn't I?" Some kind of fucked up pre-cog. And I still have nightmares. Now they're a bit more detailed, and in different situations, but there have been a few times I've woken up in a cold swear, on the verge of tears over something I don't even remember happening.
>.<; I'm glad for my friends, who have helped me through the grieving of innocence lost.
But tangents aside, I sympathize and empathize with the little kids who had to go through this. I mean, hell, I don't remember the details, I can only imagine the torment of remember every moment and instance of said atrocity, and living with it as an 8 year old. This is something that will remain in the back of their minds, even after they've been helped through it. A scar that will fade in some respects, but never disappear. All that innocent trust you had for adults shattered because some sick fuck couldn't keep it in his pants.
*shudders*
My sort of justice is dragging them out into the streets by their hair, and removing their face with a shotgun, who's buckshot has been replaced with rocksalt. Quick, but painful and very public. But my sort of justice really doesn't go over well in the real world, and even though I'd love to employ justice upon those who would willingly hurt children, I recognize that it'd probably fuck me up beyond repair, and upset quite a few people.
So I leave it up to the justice department. I can only hope that their efforts to catch these bastards improve. South Carolina just passed a bill to allow prosecutors to persue the death penalty in more than one instance of sexual assault in a minor younger than 11. That's a weight off my mind.
I imagine it's a weight off the mind of the parents who have been made to suffer as well.
WARNING: Much anger ahead. Just so you know.
I fucking hate pedos. There are many things that I dislike, that I say I hate because hate is the word that comes to mind, but I actually hate pedophiles. Nothing pisses me off more than when people prey on and hurt those weaker than them, and in many cases, none are so much weaker than everyone that children.
Now, those who know me know for a fact that I'm wary of children in the first place. Kids bug me. If I ever have children, and Chris and I have been talking about it in the far future, I hope to Whichever Deity or Energy is listening that I develop the patience for them. But despite my misgivings for the little ankle-biters, people hurting them sets off my already short fuse. Call it feminine instict.
And nothing is more fuckered up than child molestation.
Let's think back to when we were children. Let's say, from the time you can actually remember to about 10. Remember when you knew sex existed, but you never saw it, like UFOs and El Chupacabra. I distinctly remember it. And though many of you really don't wanna know, I didn't start getting puberty-tinglies until I was at least 13. So when people spout this crap about how "children should be able to express themselves sexuall", I immediately call bullshit. Pure, stinking bullshit.
I don't know what pisses me off more; pedophiles or the people who defend them. I understand that they're sick, but just because they're sick in the head doesn't excuse them from the fact that they want to hurt children. And the kind of hurt they inflict can screw a child up faster than you think.
I should know. I don't specifically remember any of it, but I had dreams all through my childhood and into adult hood that I couldn't explain until my mom told me what happened when I was 17. Everything just sort of fell into place; why I didn't like people touching me, why I always had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when sex was intimately discussed, all the dreams I was having. It was as if things went into a still frame, tarnished, and.. well, I can't really describe what it was like. I suppose in a fucked up way it's akin to being told Santa Claus doesn't exist. There's nothing quite like being told the virginity and innocence you were cherishing so much doesn't exist. That the thing you were hoping to give to just the right person had been taken from you before you were even cognizent of what it meant.
And what's funny is that it was like I had always known. In my mind, right before my mom was about to tell me, I thought "Oh god, I was molested, wasn't I?" Some kind of fucked up pre-cog. And I still have nightmares. Now they're a bit more detailed, and in different situations, but there have been a few times I've woken up in a cold swear, on the verge of tears over something I don't even remember happening.
>.<; I'm glad for my friends, who have helped me through the grieving of innocence lost.
But tangents aside, I sympathize and empathize with the little kids who had to go through this. I mean, hell, I don't remember the details, I can only imagine the torment of remember every moment and instance of said atrocity, and living with it as an 8 year old. This is something that will remain in the back of their minds, even after they've been helped through it. A scar that will fade in some respects, but never disappear. All that innocent trust you had for adults shattered because some sick fuck couldn't keep it in his pants.
*shudders*
My sort of justice is dragging them out into the streets by their hair, and removing their face with a shotgun, who's buckshot has been replaced with rocksalt. Quick, but painful and very public. But my sort of justice really doesn't go over well in the real world, and even though I'd love to employ justice upon those who would willingly hurt children, I recognize that it'd probably fuck me up beyond repair, and upset quite a few people.
So I leave it up to the justice department. I can only hope that their efforts to catch these bastards improve. South Carolina just passed a bill to allow prosecutors to persue the death penalty in more than one instance of sexual assault in a minor younger than 11. That's a weight off my mind.
I imagine it's a weight off the mind of the parents who have been made to suffer as well.
posted by Ryven at 7:40 PM
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