A cloud, congealed around a central object.

Female pleasure is often reduced to reproduction. We are womb - obsessed society , spending fortune to make our bodies go through trauma, while there are millions of children who doesn’t know what home is.
An excerpt from handmaid’s tale -
“I used to think of my body as an instrument, of pleasure, or a means of transportation, or an implement for the accomplishment of my will . . . Now the flesh arranges itself differently. I’m a cloud, congealed around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent wrapping.”

Motherhood is a personal choice and female pleasure is equally important, we are not walking wombs ,I sometimes like to fantasize about a bulge in my belly that is pregnant with ideas; a rather flat chest that heaves when it hears a resounding voice of reason, body hair that feels like trees on my soil; and maybe I’ll be a wolf of wall street in my off time. Let’s not uproot ourselves for anyone’s benefit anymore. 

Women have been appendage of male desire for so long. Fringed and separated from our own bodies. Take the idea of nudes for example; from playboy magazine to now, we can’t get enough of ‘the female form’, but only if it fits a certain criteria set in a look book by a daft who thinks male and female want different things. While our view of what constitutes as art has progressed from Leonardo da Vinci to accepting Jean-Michel Basquiat as ‘also great’, our boxed idea of female beauty has largely remained where it was.


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