Vagina Monologues

It wasn’t always easy. As a matter of fact, it was never easy for us. I’m sure you’d have agreed. Surely it was tough for you to let us go, but I want you to know that I’m thankful you did.

I had a very difficult time reading The Vagina Monologues. I felt the book lacked a cohesive, defining message. Some parts of the book was very powerful and deep. The monologues involving rape and mutilation were intense and well written. In contrast, the chapters on vagina name calling, vagina dressing, and using the cuss word, “Cunt” were unnecessary and offensive. In this instance, a choice of text would be beneficial. Perhaps a different book about the subjects of female rape, mutilation, or molestation would give the reader and writer a choice about which book they would like to further research.

Imagine this, it’s noon and you’re outside on a beautifully sunny day. Everything is going perfectly swell until suddenly you’re swallowed by an unexpected wave of blistering hot air. You black out and moments, maybe hours later, you regain your conscience and find yourself stranded somewhere in an unnaturally gorgeous island. That’s practically the story of everyone who finds themselves on an island called Nil, and everyone who finds themselves on the mysterious island has exactly a year to leave before they die. On this pretty little island was a girl named Natalie. She was a veteran on Nil and had priority. Having priority meant that you

I have something I need to tell you. It feels weird announcing this, because nothing has changed. I feel exactly as I’ve always felt, and I’m still the same person I’ve always been, I’ve just accepted a few things. It  almost feels pointless to say, because it seems so obvious to me, but I think I should tell you anyway. I don’t know how exactly to explain myself, because it’s how I’ve always felt, but I’ll try help you to understand without writing down every thought I’ve ever had.

One of the other girls there began to talk to me her name was Jenny. She was chewing gum nonchalantly and just chatting away. She said this was her second time and that it wasn 't a big deal anymore. But her eyes looked hard and hollow, but I just figured that was the type of person she was.

“You are wasting your time! You dumb shit reptile!” he growled while on the floor.

Before she hung up the phone last night she gave me her address and told me to text her when I was leaving Dinah’s house. I woke up the next morning with Ally’s head nuzzled into my neck with her arms and legs wrapped around me protectively, Dinah and Normani’s head on my back with their arms comfortably wrapped around my waist, and Pia’s head at my feet hugging my legs. I was wrapped in a human blanket of love, these girls have been with me through everything, they stuck by my side when no one else would, helped me up when I fell or when someone pushed me down, held my hand when I was scared, like now. I love these girls, I would die for them and they would die for me.

“You stupid bitch,” she said as she stood in front of the grave stone crying, her voice cracking, “Why didn’t you listen to me?” Anna felt like her heart had shattered. She should have stopped her, she shouldn’t have let her put that needle in her arm; she was supposed to be watching Melody. She fell to her knees and remembered the funeral.

Your activist activity presentation was very interesting and detailed with important information about women experiencing sexual assault, gender issues, discrimination, and other issues that stigmatize them. What I like about the activity you witness is that there were men present at The Vagina Monologues. I have seen something like that done on a TV show, it was shown for a second where a famous celebrity participated in. Based on your presentation and what was shown on the TV show I seen, it is comical and it does send a powerful message for women and especially for men. An idea based on your presentation for my own social work practice is that it would be interesting in having The Vagina Monologues as an on-going presentation/skit to bring

Staring out into the crowd, lights scorching my face as I recited the big monologue that led to my inevitable suicide, time stopped, and I finally realized that I love what I do, and I wouldn’t have made it here without him. He pushed me harder and harder, each time making it more difficult to meet his expectations for greatness, but I know he did it to make me a better performer, and I appreciate that every day. When I’m stuck in that pit of problems, whether it is about my inner obstacles or life in general that wraps its soul crushing tentacle binding me internally, he is there to free me from my internal shackles. With his guidance, I broke out of my shell and literally found a voice of my own.

No need to say sorry I know your an extremely busy person and thats what I admire the most of you, that you take time of your busy schedule to make time for those seeking help in you. Thats what an amazing person does in this world. Seek to help anyone without anything in return.

Maybe they were through goading one another - I surely hoped so. I picked up my glass to take a sip of wine. I had been using this time to pretend to casually, gaze around the room. Myles Laveau caught my eye and smiled a half smile as he raised his glass to his lips. His date, the Baroness Portella, must have seen that his eye was otherwise entertained because she turned to glance over her shoulder at me. I saw the scathing stare she gave me through her thin, lacy veil- much like Boudreaux’s stare, it cuts to the bone. I half expected her to fling her drink into Laveau’s face, she seemed quite angry- but then, he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear and she turned to look at me again; this time, she smiled. I wondered what Myles had said to her for her to smile at me that way. The desire to know what he said was causing me to be anxious, as was the desire to see beneath the veil, but I needed to take care of the situation of my husband and lover goading each other first - I would ask Myles what was said between he and the Baroness the next time I was with him.

The man and woman hurried silently side by side down the dank passage. Occasionally, the woman would glance furtively over her shoulder. The passage was dark, and the only illumination came from a glowing torch that the man carried. The low light shone brightly enough to see that they were both nobles, for they were dressed with distinction.

As I sit here as a soon to be senior, I still can hear the words my mom screamed at me the day I had announced I was gay! But this wasn't the first time I tried to come out but this was the worse. I had come out many times but been pushed back into the closet because of my her in denial.

Last but certainly not the least in any way, the resident’s bedroom. Plaid royal blue sheets concealed the California king bed that looked only partially inhabited on the right side. Dirty clothes covered the pale carpet like hot lava at the center of a volcano. Treading lightly in order to keep everything undisturbed the special agents move to the only window in the room which was on the other side of the enormous bed. Vivid scratch marks are present making it seem as though someone struggled to pry it open. Looking at the Earth outside the tampered window the officers gasp. A body sprawled and bleeding out lay frozen still on the hard dirt. Confused, the special agents contemplate the suicide note and the letters from the unknown source.