Published by: April Despi
Date Published: March 11, 2023
Time Published: 4:12 pm
Category: Prose
Theme: Woman Emancipation, Women's Suffrage (Skepticism, Incredulity, Cynicism)
Synopsis: I was held captive as the days went by. As my voice began to utter something, I believed that this day would never arrive.
Do you hear our voices? Will the rest of the world soon see the contradictions our laws have created? I am often seen as the hound of the abyss, lower in rank than mercenaries and pioneers. However, they may say that who I am— a den of contention.
It has arisen in some way from its normalization. Women and men, both high and low social classes, and other subjects have different degrees of purity and essence that can be vaguely understood. We go fast every time, even if summer looks like winter. Not the surprise that I was anticipated for. The diversity of thoughts and knowledge that we want and must realize begins to exert its repugnant odds against us. From attacking to healing, it appears to be equal, but the process is entirely different.
It is not forgotten. Articulating our freedom and emotions seemed freely lurking, blood dripping from our hands to inscribe power. Nevertheless, we can't express it. Why, you may ask? Because of the pettiness of society, we have to put up with it. Aspects and benefits that we could have achieved but weren’t. We are very intrigued to understand this miracle.
They say the world has changed; perhaps in subtle liberal ways, but I don't see the change. Some desires make us sane, but once there is a trace of curiosity, it will only lead to further insulting comments.
My scattered memories will flash along beer fingers as they seek to travel. I want to make the necessary changes. What do you do? I am only but a woman; the earth, and the eyes of aground and infamy are fascinated by my appearance. How can I walk the halls, when I am a perfect human whose image clouds what they see as ‘a legal framework’?
My meaningful quotes stand up to no argument because they are buried miles below the surface. Therefore, I could not be heard. My life had existed as nothing but a bungalow of the moratorium in eldritch. But they say, things do alter its own midway. . .
A murky history will soon be divulged— as my hankering will be forgathering with founder. Now, women will take a stand for their rights. Even if this was not the vote that some men had thought would bring them wealth: the day women were granted the right to vote.
The suffragist movement gained momentum. As this action may be kept behind the covers of the books of yore, I must say that this was a global history. A year of stories and milestones will soon be met. As “Vote For Women” began to offer a wide-ranging variety of overviews, a scene that had caught my attention was the voices. The voices of women who sought salvation.
As a biracial woman, I could not hold back the tears— seeing women of color and women with disabilities stand up, and fight for justice. Now that the world had finally enfranchised itself with women with the right to vote. Now that the world is finally giving us women the right to vote, I feel subconsciously euphoric.
I’ve never thought this day would come. With time around this doubt, I now see women potentially taking these endless paths. Now that our opinions are starting to be heard, we can hope that instead of being forced to see ourselves as someone who never lacks solidarity and only sees our interests, we can now hope for the world not only to elevate the belittled, but to also unite with equality.
As I contemplate the white-flecked sea of hope, I now see the future. Instead of wishing my life would get better, it's more about hope will soon hear my expansive voice. I will maintain the dignity of the woman, so I can speak and act with morality.
Image source: https://pin.it/6DxbhlK
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