good luck.

This is for the current challenge over at Category Stories ("I'm lucky") and I hope you play along.

This looks like such a simple little layout but it really means a lot to me.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the amount of violence in our world, and how much of it is directed toward women by people who claim to love them, people they are supposed to be able to trust.


I am pretty sure that Rihanna being beat up brought this to the forefront of my mind again. But sometimes I feel as though it's 'open season' on women. There are many problems that keep this cycle going.

One of the problems is that it's seen as shameful and that it's supposed to be hush hush, a dirty little secret. It's hard to relate to a woman when the victim doesn't have a face or a relationship with you. It's easier to wonder what she might have done to provoke the abuse (or the "situation", which seems to be the catch-all, no-blame term lately).


So I give you this layout. I was in an abusive relationship. And I got out. I was lucky. Some women try to get out and can't. Some women are too terrified of the threats that their children will be hurt. Some really believe that it won't happen again. And some get out only on paper, and live a life of fear and sometimes of eventual murder.


And I thought about deleting all of this (as you read this, I bet I'm still thinking of it). I thought about the possible repercussions. And then I thought about you being able to put a face to this. And I changed my mind. Here's my face. I did nothing out of the ordinary of a human relationship to "provoke it" and it happened. If my face is your face, seek help so that you can get out and you can live.

Good Luck by Counting Crows

Larry's in Vegas with some chick from L.A.

The best things are sevens; the sex is just okay

"So please stay," she says,

"Just stay."

cause there's a show at eleven

The drinks are all free

Maybe you can do better for yourself

But not me

So please stay, keep me company

All the while thinking this is the good luck

He stays with her most of the time

It takes time to make these machines run

And people are so unkind

Gets kind of nervous

When it used to be hard

She takes the edges off evenings

In bedrooms and back seats of big cars

All the while thinking this is the good luck

He stays with her most of the time

It takes time to make these machines work

And people are so unkind

She looks in the mirror

To make sure she's here

She keeps disappearing and dreaming

Of movie stars, weddings

Nothing is happening

He tries not to notice

She thinks he doesn't care

Capture yourself in a jar

And just say there

Until you vanish to thin air

All the while thinking this is the good luck

He stays with her most of the time

But he ain't got time while she's riding in black cars

And pokes at the sky to see if he can make stars

And people are so unkind

People are so unkind

People are so unkind

People are so unkind . . .