Untitled Fifty-two

to all the folks who left me behind in the dust

It is easy to assume the worst in people

because when they hurt you it doesn’t

feel as bad as expecting the best out of

them.

—To’Wednesday Sibley, Untitled Fifty-two

How to Delete Facebook? Here’s How.

So I got my first Facebook page around 2010—this was the time when MySpace was still popular, then deleted it around 2012 because I got bored. I decided to get another one the year after to boost my then blog The Young Book Collector but it didn’t go well, anyway, I decided to keep it because my friends and family had one too.

Since then, I’ve been involved with social justice issues, and I’ve found Facebook to be really toxic. For now, my personal account has been deactivated, and my page is being run by a family friend for updates.

But how come Facebook won’t let you delete your account? I’m guessing for financial reason, more people more money. Who knows, but to make a long story short log into your account, then click on this link in case you want to delete your account.

xo,
To’Wednesday Sibley

Dear Teachers

Dear Teachers

stop telling young aspiring writers

to write what they know. 

 

Can you recall a time

were your favorite author played it safe?

I highly doubt it.

 

Did Robert Frost

not say to take the road less traveled?

Are we not writers?

 

— To’Wednesday Sibley, Dear Teachers 

Manic Pixie Nightmare

The best thing he did as the word spilled from his fingers and made its way across my computer screen was to call me a “cunt.” Why thank you, dear sir, for not calling me a “bitch” I’m glad you know the difference between a female dog and a human being that happened to born with a vagina, but you probably think we’re one in the same.

I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was borrowing your ego, last time I checked I wasn’t inclined to talk to you. You seemed to be under the delusion that I owed you my time. I’m sorry I don’t have any cookies to spare for your bruised arrogance, maybe your parents wouldn’t mind giving you a treat, just like they forgot to teach you a little thing called respect…

Sorry, not really sorry Sour Puss, to inform you that I’m not a candy machine where you can insert your superiority and take your pick for the liking when and how you want! I am not your girl next door, your definition of “someone who is different than the rest” and I’m damn sure not your Juliet to your Romeo.

It’s obvious you can’t handle any of my “no’s” what makes you think I’d put in my time were you’ll get me to say “yes.” Never did it ever occur to you that this “cunt” is trying to stay of afloat in a game called capitalism, working two jobs only to make 63% compared to men and the majority;

going to school drowning in my own hungry dedication for more just so I won’t have to work two jobs, trying to help my family. No, it didn’t occur to you that maybe I’m too fucking tired to talk because your whole life you’ve been invalidating a woman saying no.  I’m not one of the girls that’ll give you a free pass to disrespect me!

Trust and believe, messing with me is like challenging God! You will lose.Did you forget, even Adam had to leave the Garden of Eden with Eve by his side? Dear sir, oh I mean keyboard warrior, do tell how you’re better than me; but take note: Eden isn’t the only place you can get expelled from.

— To’Wednesday Sibley, Manic Pixie Nightmare