The Rape

Elly Simmons

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Search Engines Terms: How did you find me? What was your search?

I am fucking pissed.

If I see one more search phrase stating child erotica I am going to go hunting.

The photos I post of children are of how I see myself, of all children who deserve safety and wellness. They are my memories. They are why we need art, they show us ourselves. Artists are crucial for this. They tell our stories.

I am not here to tell any damn stories for injured relational sexuality.

I am here to say that I am not in control of the universe.

I was not in control of my friend Amanda’s bi-polar, existential, alcoholic, survivor pain or her death. I was not in control of my friend Leah’s childhood where her twin sister experienced her life as she did, a life ending with a swan dive. She took the bridge path. Yea, she is dead too.

So, this is all morbid or is it? Death is another stage. I am good with groovy godliness.

I post photos of children for the beauty of each and every one of our children, internally and externally.

My favorite is by Steven Gelberg. I see myself in her eyes and hiding behind that big leaf. I see my cave child self, now and then.

I do not want fucking trapped in the darkness of soul injured compulsion finding my blog by searching such words. Words that have never been posted here until now which means somewhere in the universe someone found Steven’s souful child photo and showed me that I am not in control of the freakin’ universe.

And, please, do not get me wrong. This is not hate, this is anger which is pain. Pain for those who are bound in some dark place where only such a search gives them what they seek. I am not hateful, I am pissed. And, sad. And, empowered. And hurt by the hurt. No one hurt me, no one did this to me, it just is.

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John Running