It is December 6th, and I remember.
I was 13 years old when Marc Lépine opened fire and murdered 14 women for being at engineering school when he wasn’t. He blamed feminism for the situation he was in, and murdered these women for being in non-traditional jobs, for being there.
Every year, the memorials I go to are different. Some are quiet - I remember several winters in the snow, holding candles and reciting names like a talisman against violence.
Geneviève Bergeron, 21 years old. Hélène Colgan, 24 years old. Nathalie Croteau, 24 years old.
When I was younger, they seemed impossibly mature and sophisticated. I used to imagine them laughing and enjoying university, cut down without warning. Now that I’m 35, they seem so young, and I wonder if they were afraid.
A few weeks ago my japanese class did a gift exchange with our penpal class in japan and their box of stuff came in today. All of the gifts had really cute messages on yellow notes. This one was my favorite..
LETS BECOME DIABETES
i hate people who glorify winter there is nothing fun and cute about winter you fuckin wake up and ya piss is frozen in ya dick is that what you want you hot chocolate loving fuck