The Awakening (part 4)

 Part 3: Getting out

He was surprised but shrugged his shoulders. "People get used to everything."

"You'd be surprised," he added.

"Can I see the others you managed to wake up? Maybe I know someone."

After the physiotherapy, I looked at the pages on the small computer board with faces and more faces of the awakened. Some people's faces were slightly blurred and had the words "deceased" across them. The whole search was frustrating and sad. The whole planet went to hell and mommy's and daddy's rich children got away with it and the rest of us are just experiments, who can explode at any moment like an old hand grenade.

The first time I went outside after getting on my feet was a shock, and not just physically. Before that, I barely got rid of Darko, whom I mentioned earlier as a confused red-haired young man with a beard. Darko seemed to be a little to fond of me, he hanged around me saying the most incredible amounts of the weirdest "compliments" I've ever heard.

"Your liver is in such a good condition, so beautiful, and so are your lips, which are even the same color as your liver!"

"The women from two hundred and fifty years ago were more beautiful and in better shape than women today. Even those over sixty.”

"I've seen all your organs, I have to admit, I'm absolutely impressed! Congratulations!"

"Your body that drives me crazy, that's partially from being rejuvenated by the stem cells, but a lot of it is your own doing from before the icing."

"You shook me to my core as soon as we took you out of the ice and more with each day!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or be horrified. One day I managed to get rid of him out and enter the waiting room that led to the tunnel which led to outside. The waiting room was a large sterile room painted a dazzling white with rows of equally sterile benches made of polished surgical steel. The room was completely empty and silver-white with the exception of a control panel on the wall near the exit. I entered the data into the control panel and sat down to wait. What frustrated me quite a bit about this world, among a number of other things, was that there was nothing to do. Even when you are on the toilet, you need to read something, not to waste time. There was absolutely nothing to read or do here except to wait alone, with your own thoughts. But at least I had enough thoughts, and even more questions. They showed me another catalog of people, besides the one with survivors and those who didn't make it. A catalog of frozen people, as I was. Faces caught under the ice, some of them calm, others horrified, some just blankly staring, a catalog of the eternals. Each person had information, or lack thereof, because not all identities were known. With some of the faces, there was also, ironically, an indicator of "vitality", that is, what was the estimate that extraction from the ice would be successful. The whole spectrum of factors was taken into account, data about the person extracted from the database, physical vitality, state of organs, psychological state and of course, almost the most important factor, the depth position within the ice, in meters.

Maybe half an hour later I was sitting in some kind of train on the way through a concrete tunnel, claustrophobically narrow, so that there was hardly an inch of free space between the body of the train and tunnel walls. Was it better to be alive in this world or to remain in a frozen sleep? The faces of the survivors did not give much room for optimism. Dark circles, a tired, hopeless look, sometimes a barely there smile for the camera. But there were also those with a defiant smile and unusual freshness in their faces. On the other hand, the frozen faces, although there were some frozen in horror, were mostly calm, like mine (they showed me my face while it was frozen), as if they were deep in thoughts, some even with a questioning expression, as if they were observing everything around them. It sounds impossible, but I was looking around me while I was frozen, I remember I did.

She was among the frozen ones, still relatively young, her face wide-eyed in surprise. I'd swear she was watching from in there. Her status was "close to the surface" and "vital status excellent". I could be with her again. But was it okay to give her a wake like mine? And given my stem cell treatment, we'll be the same age, which would be completely unnatural. But on the other hand, can I just not give her a chance to live again? And is this life worth living?

Suddenly there was darkness. For a moment I thought the power had gone out. No, it's a train, or something similar to a train, coming out of a lighted tunnel into the darkness outside. We weren't even technically outside, the city was under a huge protective dome. It was complete darkness, but in the distance, nevertheless, I could see the illuminated city, the buildings full of light, the street lighting that barely succeeded in dispelling the complete darkness. There was a city, and people who survived the disaster of more than two hundred years ago. There I will be able to check whether the future is worth coming out of the frozen sleep.

Getting older => getting invisible and less respected

 Getting older is a privilege, not everyone gets a privilege to get old, to be 80, 90 or older. Getting older while keeping decent health is even more of a privilege, even though average human life span is getting longer keeping health with age is still hard. Not everyone gets smarter with age, not everyone gets to be a better person, smarter, wiser, deserving more respect, sadly some people don't grow or learn, some just get to be worse as humans. But what about those who grew older or old, and do get wiser, smarter or just are decent people as they always were? What happens in society where older people are considered ugly, scary, non-attractive, gross, non-interesting, and just plain annoying? Where most people treat them like they should just disappear? Hide, don't talk much, don't flaunt themselves in any way, and God forbid show any trace of sexuality because, that's "gross"?

Even if you are objectively not old, but not young either, you are treated like crap, because, you are also "gross" and how dare you try to be visible and act like a person! It's like your whole personality is narrowed down to your age. You are middle aged or you are old. That's your whole personality and nothing else about you matters. Old people are treated like mindless children, and often looked at with disgust. Sadly, I've seen men around 20, 30 who call women in their 70s "old hag" or worse, who yell at them, insult them and are extremely unpleasant to them, I think because those ladies do not have anything to offer that those men want. Would they treat lovely young women like that, ever? No. Because they think they could still have some "use" of those women. It's actually sad. Now, I am not saying, all men act like that, I am saying that I've seen SOME. But most young people, men or women, will not give even a second look to old person, most of them will just try to escape them and maybe feel even fear because being old is something they fear. Being old reminds you that you are mortal, and that you don't really have much choice, you have to get old and your looks and health will change, or alternative which is even worse.

Being middle aged myself showed me how people change their behavior towards middle aged people and how suddenly you stop to matter as a person. I can only imagine how worse it gets when you get over 70! But even now, I am fully aware of how different people treat me compared with how it was 10-20 years ago. Suddenly, no one looks at me, if they need to serve me because it's their job (like in retail or restaurants) they treat me like they want to get me off their back as soon as possible, like I am a nuance or someone really non-important. If I am asking for service for me personally and I say exactly what I am interested in, I get answer based on my age, not my preference. For example, I was buying books, and I chose two  novels I thought might be interesting. The young lady who worked there said I get discount for third book so I told her what interests me and asked for suggestion. She gave me a bloody book about menopause! Am I crazy or was it horribly rude? I never asked for that, I can find information about menopause, if and when I need it, anywhere online, literally thousands of videos and articles.

Sometimes, in stores and public places, people who are younger treat us middle-aged like were are not worth of attention at all. Apparently, we can't give them anything and that's the only reason to be nice to someone? We are not that attractive anymore, we are not interesting as potential relationship material so we are apparently not people anymore. We don't exists.

I believe I will get used to this and even get use of being invisible. Like many people do. It's not really pleasant to become aware you are not attractive on any level to people anymore, and at the same time, realize, you once were you just didn't know it then. But for all the wrong reasons. Because you were young and pretty, you were potential resource, again, not human, just resource, just something they could use. This may go both ways for men too, but I have no idea how men feel so I have to speak for women only. I am pretty sure men have their own problems and their life with age does not get any easier, maybe just not in the quite the same way as our does.

It's not the worst thing that can happen to anyone, being ignored and knocked to the side like non-important, not useful human. It's not the worst thing to be considered non-attractive or "gross" and not someone anyone would ever want. It's ok. It's perfectly fine to get older and not to be the same person you were when you were in 20s or 30s. Society teaches us that the most important thing is to be young, sexy and beautiful forever (like in the movie The Substance), but honestly, like all beauty standards, it's all a big lie, a marketing! We don't need that, no one really does. I just don't like people talking over me, people ignoring me when I am trying to ask for something, people being extremely rude because I am not of "use" to them as sex object anymore, people who suggest me what should be my interests based on my age alone and nothing else, like that all that defines me. I am ok with being invisible, I am ok with being "old weird hag", just don't fucking try to ruin my day or my life because of that. I am still human.

The Awakening (part 3)

Part 3: Stem cells

Fast forward to the day when I could successfully roll around in a wheelchair, which wasn't even electric, but old-fashioned, with the wheels that I had to push with my hands. My legs were now functional, but not enough to walk on my own. They wouldn't let me out of my cell...ups sorry, I mean hospital room, except when they were driving me for tests, scans, endless needle poking and electrocutions. During those not-so-pleasant tests and treatments, I had the opportunity to take a look at my arms and legs, and even my torso, and it was clear that whatever they did, they managed to rejuvenate my body by at least twenty years. I wasn't optimistic about that because a dark-haired young man, Dr. Marianusic, told me that almost half of the stem cell treatments ended "very, very badly." I didn't want to ask for details. After all, what do I have to lose at my age? After an additional two hundred years of half-life in ice?

I became nervous from all the testing, riding in and on wheelchairs and being locked in rooms. During what seemed to me like an infinitely long time after waking up, I never saw a trace of the sky, not a single window. I dared to mention this wish to see the sky to my always "optimistic" doctor Marianusic. He was the oldest of those people, but still much younger than me, I mean, younger than me before the disaster and everything.

"We have no windows, nothing to see out there," he said. These people have no sense of humor, or even a single try to lighten up a hopeless situation.

"You mean, all that's left is this building and nothing else? Put me then back under the ice right now!”

"Uh, no, far from it, calm down," always so serious he took it all literally, "there are cities, but you know, it's dark. You can't see anything anyway."

"But when it dawns..."

"You don't understand, it won't dawn. Ever. The city is illuminated by artificial lights, but beyond that there is nothing. Just blackness. This building is not under a dome so there is no light outside and the temperatures are extremely low. Windows are unnecessary, and dangerous."

I had periods of regretting being awaken from the time spent in a frozen sleep, which I thought would last forever. The need for peace, sleepiness, light that refracts in rainbow colors forever. The feeling that I am where I am, that I have nothing to lose and that I will exist forever, even if only as a fragment of consciousness in a frozen body. This was one of those periods, perhaps the strongest. I asked him why they woke me up, took me out of the ice, why me, and why, when there was nothing left and nothing to see. I felt that there was nothing here left but buildings and a handful of people. Who wants to see that? Who wants to live there? They also rejuvenated me to last longer. Why me, I asked.

I was closest to the surface and had the best vitals. Here's an explanation! It was certainly easier to reach people who were lucky enough to be close to the surface of the ice, and I had, judging by their measurements, surprisingly strong vital functions, almost as if my brain was still working, albeit at a very weak level. They just had to dig me up! Who were "they", you ask? It seems that a group of people, before the disaster, felt they had the right to determine who would survive and accordingly, certain people were put safely into a state of hibernation, deep, deep underground. The survivors' selection system was tragicomic and expected. Those who had enough money (but what was the meaning of money at that moment?), those who had influence and power, and those closest to the participants in the whole project. So, survivors were chosen over personal connections. It is no wonder that their descendants are completely empty and without a trace of spirit. Hibernation lasted as long as fifty years, after which they managed to wake up "the majority", as the good doctor said. In the meantime, the dangerous situation on the surface, although still not safe, calmed down a bit and soon they started to rebuild and salvage what could be saved. It seems that I was lucky, at least that much, that I was not among the first to be pulled out of the ice. The first people they tried to extract from the ice simply disintegrated, some unfortunately, upon awakening, fully aware of what was happening to them. It wasn't pleasant to think about it during the long nights. My cold and bland doctor didn't know if such a fate could befall me, but the failed ones were followed by more and more complete revival successes, so that the majority of those who were awakened were still alive and well, decades after the awakening.

"After all," he said without thinking, "you were a perfect candidate for a trial of stem cell therapy because of your age you were . . ."

He stopped there, obviously realizing that it wasn't very smart to say "expendable", that is, I am so old that it wasn't too bad for me to fail and die in the process.

"Um, um, I wanted to say that there would be no effect with younger candidates. Stem cell treatment can rejuvenate you, but  can't bring you back to puberty. It can only go so long."

"What happens if things go wrong?" I asked, and the silence was a more terrifying answer than anything he could've said.

"What kind of society is this?" I asked after a very long and uncomfortable silence during which I could clearly read pure terror on his face.

"Not very great," he finally answered and I felt the first rush of sympathy for him for this honesty.

"Is it better not to go out?"

The Awakening (part 2)

Part2: I am awake

 I ask them to straighten me up, everything hurts from lying down and my eyes are constantly fixed on the not so interesting ceiling. My mind is in an incredible confusion and I have many questions. They carefully pick me up and place me in a wheelchair. This is my life now. I remember being 67 years old. An old woman completely paralyzed, in a wheelchair, who can only blink and squeak a little. Why did they wake me up? The view from the upright position is not much more interesting than the ceiling. Everything around me is white, and it immediately reminds me of a hospital. The smell of antiseptics, steel, alcohol, the whiteness of painted walls and the silvery shine of steel. Doesn't look comforting at all, ice was better. Around me is a group of people, young people, I would say, maybe in their thirties. There are four of them and they are all dressed in sterile white suits from head to toe. Two of them wear complex helmets, like the one I hallucinated that it was a ship, and they hold some devices, staring at them then staring at me.

"Patient number 287, female, 67 years old, fully conscious, general health excellent," says the woman with the "ship" on her head.

"First and foremost, child, I'm not a number, I have a name even though I can't remember it now. Second, my health is not good, as you can see, I can't move, to begin with.”, my voice sounds stronger than before, but seems softer than I remember.

"Um, your name is Tatiana Ristic, if the information I have are correct. Your health is phenomenal, especially for your age. We further improved it with your stem cells that we synthesized for this purpose. Your mobility will be back soon, we are working on it. You've been frozen for over two hundred years, it's a miracle you're even alive."

The name sounded very familiar to me, that my health is "phenomenal" not really, but the question is: compared to what my health is so good? After all, they pulled me out of the two hundred year old ice. Anything that survives such conditions and can still blink and even speak is in phenomenal condition.

“Can you move your hand, Tanya? May I call you Tanya?", a confused red-haired young man with a beard.

"Absolutely you can't," I said stubbornly. However, I managed to raise my right arm a little. I twirled my fingers. Only then did I notice something unusual. It wasn't my hand. Or is it? I tried to bring it closer to my eyes but I didn't manage to do it. However, even from that distance I could tell the difference. One of the young women noticed my confusion.

"Stem cell therapy changed you a little, um... that happens. Physically, you are now at the level of about forty years old."

"There are risks to this therapy, of course," jumped in a dark-haired youngster with a mop of curly hair, "but we had to resort to revitalization for the sake of cell recovery after deep acceleration. I think you handled the whole process brilliantly. Even better than our patients do, usually."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask for a mirror. I decided it was better not to think about it for now. I still wasn't even sure who I was.

The Awakening (part 1)

Part 1: After The End

I don't remember the event of the disaster, I don't even remember certain details, segments. That entire short period has been erased from my memory. Only after the end of the world I remember a period of consciousness that I cannot explain, because I was as dead, just as everyone else on earth, frozen forever in a giant block of ice. I didn't panic, which might be understandable in the given situation, I calmly observed the frozen world around me, the glassy walls of the ice cave and the block of ice in which we were all caught like insects in amber. There was little light in there, only a few glimmers that refracted hundreds of times on the icy rocks and penetrated into the open eyes of those of us who met our ends awake and aware. I was freed from everything, feelings, pain, physical needs, even aging, I felt a peace that I had never felt before. The peace of someone who has absolutely nothing left to lose. All I had was the play of lights and shadows, the ice and a small remnant of consciousness and my eyesight that was eternally watching the new, cold and silent world that would never change again. That lasted a long, long time, but not forever, as I had hoped.

It started with blackness. The light was gone, completely, as if it had been turned off by a switch. Then pain, first in one part on my body, then on three, then on seven, then everywhere, like a fire that spreads and consumes everything in front of it. I was burning alive, and I couldn't move or speak. What is your version of hell? This could've easily been mine. I could have sworn I heard human voices, and understood parts of sentences, or maybe I just pulled them out of my own almost completely extinguished consciousness.

"She's in agony, painkillers won't help! We will lose her!”

"Put her in induced coma!"

After those words, which I may or may not have heard, everything disappeared, voices, ice, light, darkness, pain, and the last trace of my existence. The next thing I remember were trails of light. This was not the same light as before, there was no numbness and stillness, nor the feeling that I no longer had a body. I could sense the weight of my body again, I had eyes that processed the painful light around me, thoughts that were no longer calm or carefree. The peace of non-existence was taken from me. I was useless in this new state, much more so than when I was dead in the ice. My vision was poor and blurred, my eyes could hardly bear the light that was too strong for me, I couldn't move my body. How old was I? I couldn't remember that either. I was desperately trying to remember who I was and if I even existed, if I ever existed.

A bright light was shining from somewhere, and I saw, with my ancient frozen eyes, a woman in a white dress, passing by me. Braided into her long hair was a model of an old-fashioned wooden ship, complete with sails, ropes and everything. I heard my own hysterical giggles. Someone in the room commented that I must be hallucinating. That comment really annoyed me. I was sad that they pulled me out of the ice, and I had the impression that they had no idea what they were doing. They were pushing me on a stretcher around white rooms, scanned and tested and scanned me again, I felt pokes and pricks on my arms where they drew blood and injected nutrients directly into my blood, excruciatingly painful needle stabs in my thighs, for which I guess they were taking my bone marrow for tests, they were running low voltage electric charges into my muscles and other invasive tests and treatments that I just wanted to put behind me as soon as possible. Why didn't they just leave me in the ice when they are treating me like I'm not even alive and like I can't feel anything? Why there is no day or night, and all I see is artificial light and few shadows?

Finally, after what I felt like a long time, I saw a face. Brown hair, shoulder length, female face, about thirty-odd years old and yes, haha, a helmet with a bunch of wires on it, which was my "ship" apparently. They underestimated me, I wasn't hallucinating, I just thought it was a ship for some reason. I laugh and the same annoying voice from earlier comments that I'm hallucinating. Again.

"Your grandma is hallucinating, you ass!" I said. My voice is shrill and low, but everyone immediately fell silent.

Depression and why we are more depressed today than in middle ages

 Middle ages were tough. I don't know much about it but, for a start, just living without medications, pain killers and dentistry today sounds rough enough. I am sure people had very difficult lives, there is no doubt about it. However, I am wondering, was depression and anxiety on such high level as today? Were people so apathetic, anxious, sad and lonely as people today? I hope some history research can find that out.

Why people today are so depressed, lonely and sad? As an individual I can only guess, as everyone has their own reasons and their own circumstances. Life is never easy. Problem could be...

We have too much information

We know too much. We know everything about all diseases, we can even search our own symptoms which only provoke further anxieties. Sure, it could save lives, sometimes, but in majority of cases it will cause a lot of unnecessary anxiety and fear. We also have access to all news. A lot of portals, news and tabloids live and feed on scandals and spreading panic, but some also just want to warn us of what is happening, albeit that is almost always fruitless effort. We can approach and read daily doses of dark prognosis for humanity and our planet (some of it unfortunately close to truth), dark numbers of sick people, dark truths about state of ecology of our planet, wars and reportages of what one human can do to another to make you sick in the stomach etc. We can also see dark, dark sides of human nature where people torture other people or innocent animals, where lives are sold as nothing, where people bully some individuals to get them to the edge, and most of all, people hiding behind their internet persona uncovering their worst sides which now we can see. We can clearly see now how much hate is in this world, how much meaningless fights, meaningless hatred, anger and sadness is all around us, how many truly scary or truly sad people are out there. It's not something that is good for our mental health.

We are constantly reminded what we are missing

Of course, there is the other side. People who seemingly have it all. Beautiful people, impossibly great, meaningful lives, happy couples and group of friends that remind us how alone we are, people who did something great and meaningful in life which makes us feel useless and like we didn't try hard enough, even though we did or we don't need to. It constantly reminds us that there are people who are rich, beautiful and lucky, people who are successful and how that all should be most important thing in our lives. This is devastating for most people who feel like they didn't achieve what they wanted. Instead of giving those people more chances in lives, instead of trying to make world better place and giving a chance to everyone to feel achieved and successful, we are forced to think that there are only few ways to be "important" and "achieved" and it sucks! Instagram, tabloids, people showing off in multiple ways, people showing their immense beauty which is now forced upon us as one of the values individual "must have", it all makes us feel "not enough". A lot of people feel unnecessarily "ugly" or "useless" or "not achieved", just because they compare themselves to all internet "stars" who seemingly have it all.

We compare

Socializing is in really bad state

The fact is, people don't socialize as they used to. We see people who are great friends in movies and sitcoms, and it feels like that would be great having in real life, but when you don't have it you can't help but to feel something is wrong with you. Why your life is not like life of influencers or like life in tv shows? Where are your trusty friends? The truth is, most of us are so scared of rejection in real life that we all live online, hoping we will find our group of friends or partner which never happens. Because internet is not life. Because you have to be outside meeting people to have friends, but that doesn't happen anymore, especially for people who are not in their 20s anymore. With aging it just gets more and more difficult. People also have low threshold of what they can tolerate. Most people think they can always "do better", because this world gives us that illusion and people are prone to prejudices to others and judging on the spot without getting into knowing someone for real.

It's exceptionally hard for introverts, because they lack socializing capabilities to start with. You need to actually approach someone and keep their interest and that is too much work. If you have low confidence you won't even try. You will just stay alone and suffer. And others will not help because people now have so many options to keep their interests, so many ways to meet other people, no one needs you. They can do whatever.

People are very lonely, more than ever.

You know too much bad stuff about people and world around us

It's so easy to hide online. It's so much easier to post hateful, ugly messages, to spread hate and to bully others. You can pretty safely be misogynistic, racist, nationalist, hateful and deeply intolerant of everything you personally "don't believe in". You can be really ugly if you want. And everyone can see all that ugliness, hate, prejudices, ignorance, even pure evil. We now know those people exist, and they are all around us, they are hidden between us. You are fully aware there is someone who hates you just because you are, for example, born as a woman. Or born as certain nationality. Or whatever. You are aware more than ever that there are dozens of meaningless wars and fights around the world because everything is online. You are aware of crimes, you degeneracy, everything! More than you want.

We have only illusion of help

Helping someone who is depressed or has other problems should come from friends and family and people who care, a lot. Sometimes, that's not possible and then help should be provided by professional. But that's not always the option. It's not easy to find the right professional, although in theory, every educated person in that area should be "the right professional". But, we all had experience with therapists or psychiatrists that we just didn't feel like it was working for us. And it costs money and our time! So, help is not always easy to find. Sometimes, and maybe this is just my experience, even professionals can't find the way to help you and you are feeling like you are just wasting your time and money. Sometimes, they just make loads of prescriptions for various meds as solution for all my problems. You can reach, ask for help, but in real world, you just might reach into empty space.

Women against feminism

 What is feminism? By one short definition I found it is "feminism, the belief in social, economic, and political equality of the sexes.". Simple and clear enough. I believe it also enabled women to have much more choices in life and how they would want to live. With feminism, not only they were socially equal, could work respectful jobs and earn much more money than before and could vote and be respected as equal members of society, they also got freedom to decide how they want to live their lives. Will they marry or not, will they work or not, have children or not, whatever life they wanted and couldn't have before. So, what is wrong with that?

Nothing. Really, it doesn't take away anything from men, rather it gives them a lot, like an equal partner who also can work and earn, someone they can have great conversation without society telling them that women are basically just decorations that can birth children, they are humans! And have feelings, and intellect and artistic talents and knowledge. Again, what is wrong with that? No one is forcing you to work, no one is forcing you to be a business woman, you can chose not to. You can chose to live like like before feminism and that's ok too.

So, why so many young women online hate feminism so much?

Are they aware how different all their lives would be without feminism? That they would not earn money on social media, or be on social media at all? That they would have determined lives they would have to live and no rights whatsoever. I feel like there could be few explanations why do they declare they hate feminism.

First, they have no idea what feminism is. A lot of people think feminists are some dirty, ugly women, dressed in rags, who go around yelling that they hate men. Or some privileged women who go around yelling that men are inferior to women. Or that it's something that forces them to work and be a "boss babe" whatever that is. Or something like that. It isn't. It doesn't even fit the definition. None of that is feminism. I have no idea what it is, but feminism? No.

Second, they are "pick me" women who want to be liked by men at any cost. Those are women who will easily throw other women under the bus (figurately speaking) presenting themselves as girls who believe women do not need rights, they just need smart and capable men to lead them through life. I mean, if that's what YOU want, fine. But, please do not push that ideal on others, we might not want it.

Third, it's just ignorance. Most young women today grew up on social media and have no idea how the world works neither they care. They have no idea there are still parts of the world where young boys under 14 are forced into wars, where little girls are sold or married under age of 12 or where people, men and women have no basic rights. Women like those don't care, all they see in life is social media, and what it tells them. They have no idea of history, or fights people had through history, many horrors of humanity, misery that still rules in some parts of the world, those women only know what they see online and that is truth to them. They do not care. They see that people, especially men, react very positively when a girl says "I hate feminism" so they will say it, and repeat it and look cute, and think they are so smart.

Now please, no one should hate anyone, especially not based on gender, whatever it is. That's stupid. No gender should lose rights, that would be fascism. If you personally don't like your rights you should just not use them instead of bragging how you don't like the rights that make you money just to gain followers or get male approval. Also, please, educate yourself, stop on meaningless hate, stop posting nonsense where you are trying to get rights away from half of the planet because YOU don't like the idea! Stop being hateful to any gender or any group of people. EOUGH IGNORANCE AND ENOUGH HATE ALREDY!