bless this poor soul

two nights ago i talked to him at a bar. he bought me a drink and told my friends he thought i was cute. That girl with the long hair, he said. what's her name? tonight when he came to my door i was happy, for full ten seconds. then. my head against a wall, suffocation, hard pushing and flat on my back, screaming for air. fighting an animal twice my size. my job was to stop him, and i failed. how can i tell you that? you met him in a bar. you see?

from this vantage point, a dot of nothingness in the corner of my bed, i understand the vast ocean of work it is to be a woman among men, that universe of effort, futile whimpers against hard stones, and oh God i don't want it. my bones are weak. i am trapped in a room with no flowers, no light, a ceiling of lead so low i can never straighten up. i don't want to live in this world.

i will be able to get up from this bed only if i can get up angry. can you understand there is no other way? i have to be someone else. not you, and not even me. tomorow or someday soon i will braid my long hair for the last time, go to m friend's house with a pair of sharp scissors, and tell her to cut it off. all of it. tomorrow or someday soon i will feel the blade at my nape and the weight will fall.

---Barbara Kingsolver in Small Wonder

someone get me the posionwood bible by the same author!!!!!!