Skit: non offensive but still racially biased

No matter what don't be a dick

There are a growing number of people annoyed by political correctness. They say people have become too sensitive, that people are offended and triggered by everything. Not to defend the offensive, but I have also seen a growing number of people using the word trigger wrong.
* Side Note*
A trigger is a word, smell, sound, statement, visual, place, person, or thing that brings back/ takes a person back to a dark time, traumatic event, and/or a dark place in their mind and can/does cause symptoms of PTSD. Just because something makes you uncomfortable doesn't mean it's a trigger. For example walking on my little brother having sex would make me uncomfortable and slightly nauseous. Watching a rape scene from a movie could be a trigger for survivors of sexual violence.
**
On the other side of the extreme you have people who think we need to remove all insensitive statements from our culture. The following is a short list of what they would like us to be more politically correct about: race, gender, sexuality, ability status, religion, and citizenship status. Not to defend the defensive but a lot of times I see people who are not part of marginalized communities think it okay to make offensives jokes because they can make that joke with their friend.

Today I'm going to be talking about racism and homophobia. I am black and indigenous. I am bisexual. I grew up in the Latinx queet community. Here the Latinx people accept me as one of them in their queer Community. I would also like to point out there's a difference between discrimination/bigotry and racism or homophobia. A black person in America can't be racist. Racism is a system setup that inherently benefits one race and inhibits, disenfranchises. legally discriminate, and/or otherwise creates disparities in equality and equal opportunity for other races. Homophobia is very similar. An indigenous person can discriminate and be a bigoted towards white people. Calling white people cracker maliciously refusing to invite or let participate the white neighbor to the outdoor block party happening on a public street is discrimination. However, not letting white people, or other races for that matter, into The National Society for Black Engineers is not. It's a private group and it gets to decide what qualifies as basis for admission to the group.

I think every American is racially biased to some degree. I cannot speak for the rest of the world, but here in the states racial bias is ingrained to our society and culture. I'm not saying every white person is a Charleston fascist, racist Nazi. I know plenty of abuelas that share similar views of black people. I know a lot of black people who don't trust asians and think they are inherently smarter. I know a lot of people from many different racial background that try very hard to view people equally when it comes to race. However, even the most politically correct American is still racially bias, just unconsciously. I'm going to give you a few scenarios.

One it's night time and you're a woman and you see a group 4 men standing on the corner in a decent neighborhood. It's a residential street. They're wearing jeans that are not sagging, Nike sneakers, and t-shirts with the Bulls logo on them. Do you cross the street or do you walk past them?  For me if they're black or latino I'm crossing the street. If they are asian, middle eastern, pacific Islander, indigenous, or white I would just walk past them. I've noticed this about myself when it comes to who I think is safe.

You work for Amazon in Chicago. You are having a meeting in Conference Room 1 at 10 a.m. with Thomas here from the New York City office. Picture Thomas in your head. What race is he? I purposely left out his last name so that it would be more difficult to think about. I thought Thomas might be white, asian, or middle-eastern. Thomas is one of those names that every race on the basic census form names a son. It could have literally been any race.

In Chicago a cop name to Joseph shot an unarmed man named James at the beach. It is unclear what lead officer Joseph to draw his weapon. There are many conflicting accounts. What race is Officer Joseph? White right? What race is James? I said  black, latino, middle eastern, or a brown asian.

You make these assumptions not because we're trying to be racially biased but because this is what is usually the case. Is usually the case because of the racist systems in place and the media's perpetuation stereotypes.

So yes I am racially bias and most the time I'm actively trying to unlearn that bias. Being racially biased causes me to miss out on opportunities and can cause actual harm. With my friends and family though I will make racist jokes. Does that make me a bigot? I don't think so. I think if I was making the joke maliciously, if my friend or family member was actually offended, or if it was just not funny then I would be a bigot. Slight side story.  In South Africa during apartheid, and still now apparently, white South Africans would call black people Keffir.  Basically the South African version of the word Nigger. I have a queer black South African friend who calls me Queen Kaff, kaff being short for kaffir. I knew this when you started calling me this. I wasn't offended though, kaffir carries no racist intent for me. He's not using it trying to hurt me. For him he gets to reclaim a word and make it powerful and empowering. Similarly, I called one of my gays that I mentor Gaysha. He is Taiwanese not Japanese and he knows I know this. He is not offended by the name and actually likes it because he says it allowed him to be slutty and more effeminate. I call some of my latinx queer bruja instead of bitch. I call out all of my friends of color when they're being too white. I remind my white friends how white they are. I only do this with my friends and I would never do this with strangers. All of my friends know its coming from a place of love. The racist jokes or comments I make are funny because they usually hold true for my friends. Most of my friends of color are so proud of their Heritage and culture. At the same time they are trying to be radical about it and not fall into the stereotypes. So it's funny when we catch ourselves acting stereotypically on accident or because we actually enjoy that particular stereotype. In the sense of using derogatory terms from one culture like Mexican culture and using it for someone who's Columbian is usually meant to be endearing. I am not Japanese and I would never call any East Asian person Geisha maliciously or try to make a joke about it. I called the gay that I mentor Gaysha because when I met him he wasn't slutty but really want it to be. He was shy, not super confident in himself, and worried about being too feminine as a gay man, especially as a gay Asian man. I saw geishas as sexually liberated, confident, and still super feminine women. To me they prove that you can be powerful confident and very feminine at the same time. So I gave him that nickname to empower him and it did.

On sexuality I'm a little more cautious. The queer ommunity still fighting for a rights. Thus I generally only make jokes about men who like men, women who like women, and lots of bisexual puns. When my straight guy friends look really nice I usually say something along the lines of " on a scale from 1 to 10 on fuckableness you look gay." Gay is higher than a 10. I always tell my straight guy friends they need to get more comfortable in their sexuality and get more queer friends. It would greatly improve the quality of their life. I do the same thing with my brother whenever he looks nice. When my actual gay friends do something slightly gay, like sing along to Gaga, I say "GAAAAAAY!" I make jokes about lesbians hiking and owning cats. Nobody's ever offended because everybody knows I'm not a bigot. If anybody is offended by anything I say, always apologize and don't say it again.

Not everyone can say the same things I can. Straight white guys can't make queer jokes, call each other women
* Side Note*
Unless it's in an empowering way. If one straight guys trying to get their other straight guy friend to get the courage to go do something it is appropriate to say channel your inner badass feminist female lioness. If your friend is being annoying by complaining about a slight pain it is okay to tell them to work through it like women work through their day while having cramps**
, or make jokes about other races (even if it's positive it comes off as fetishizing and exoticizing).  Straight white guys can make jokes about how fragile masculinity is, call each other really white, make fun of white male politicians ( without insulting them physically, reaffirming toxic masculinity, perpetuating rape culture, being sexist, being racist, insulting their religious beliefs, or being homophobic), make jokes about white fragility, and be satirical about how the system built by other white males unfairly benefits them. Why? America still set up in discriminatory ways. Also systems like redlining that are now illegal are still causing problems even though abolished. As a general rule of thumb you can make jokes about those more privileged than you in a certain category or people with just as much privileges you in a certain category.  If you are on the less than side you can make jokes about the greater than side in a non-harmful and non-hateful way. See the over simplified list below:
White> other races
Male> other genders
Heterosexual> other sexuality
Rich> other economic classes

Remember DON'T BE A DICK!!

Skit: new short series

Hey Y'all,

Its that time if year again. Pride month aka time to be relentlessly queer. According to most hate groups Queers only objective is to rage war on religion, marriage, traditional familyies, and all things hetro. Rage we will! We'll put our war paint on and show up with our face beat for the Gods. So I'm going to write a post each month of June starting next week about something queer. The series won't have an official name but it will be hashtagged something queer like #Fishy or #Okurrrrr it will tagged Pride Series 2018. Hope y'all like it.

On another writing note I have a serious back log of of things that I have written down on paper that I need to put on here. I just have to go through the following process: written text to speech to digital text. I'll get it done eventually.

Daily Struggle

The universe is ever expanding and there's probably other life out there. But of the 7.6 billion people my sexuality is evolving to like as few people as possible. If it liked just 1% of the worlds population that would be 76 million people. That seems too high and would give me a chance at a love life, so lets make this more realistic. A person will interact with about 80 thousand people on average in their life.  But I travel way more than the average person and live in a city so we're going to give me 5 life times. So we're 400,000 people in my life time. I'm going to make that my world population. So out of my world population I might find 4,000 people attractive. That's less than the population of Wyoming. That's a very small University, that's probably in Wyoming or Montana.

Daily struggles

Therapist: do you know why you don't talk during sex but you can talk while doing work for KU?

Me: Why am I paying you if I already know the answers?

Therapist: Because I make you face the answers.

Me: * sigh of defeat and eye roll of spite*

Me: because when I'm working for KU I'm in charge I'm in control I'm not being vulnerable. Sex I'm in one of my most vulnerable states. That's why I don't talk.

Sometimes breakthroughs are underwhelming.

Skittles: what it feels like to live her today

You want me dead.
I get that.
You don't believe a word I say.
I get that too.
How could you trust someone who violated you?
You want to punch me in the face.
I would let you.
If you see me I won't run.
I will stand there so you can punch me.
I won't fight back.
Part of me thinks that when you start,
you won't stop.
All of me wants you to.
Did you know you don't even need to touch me?
You are already killing me.
We are already fighting.
You are trying to kill me, and my instincts are trying to keep me alive.
I'm not fighting back but part of me is trying to stay alive.
I hope you win.
I'd willingly let you kill me.
Its so much easier to die for someone.
I'd die for you without question.
That's not love through.
That's cowardness.
I'd let you torture me day in and day out,
till the end of my days.
I'd live for you.
I'd live for you,
to cause me as much pain as you need to.
I'd live for you,
to give you someone to hate
and blame.
I'd live for you,
to give you hope of finding me,
and hurting me more than I hurt you.
I'd live for you,
so you can get closer and heal.
I love you that much.
I let you destroy everything.
I didn't have too.
I fix mess like this for fun.
I don't have a future.
I can't help people anymore.
You destroyed everything I worked for,
and was building.
I exist now simply for you.
For I love you.

Skitt: Here comes the past

Since the end of my relationship with Vendetta I've been avoiding music. She played several instruments, and music was a big part of our relationship. So I stopped listening to it. Music is how I cope and heal through. Its just generally a huge part of my life. Without it my life feels empty. I try to avoid the painful triggers that remind me of her and heal at the same time. I turned on a song "What Hurts the Most" Cascada's version. I was really vibing with the song becuase it so obviously fit what I was feeling. I kept listening to it on repeat then it hit me. This is the song I used to get over one of my grade school friend's suicide. We became friends in kindergarten. We loved being togther becuase my first name was her middle name. My middle name was was her first name. We where Daisies togther. Then she moved away, but she was coming back when we were in 5th grade. We promised to pick up where we left off when she came back. She came back different but we quickly got close quickly. She killed herself and family maybe a year after being back. I didn't try to stop her. I knew what she was going to do. I begged her not to leave me alone. She was in so much pain. I was not suprised when the told me. I was so mad that she left me. The song helped through. Now I feel all the hurt of losing her and Vendetta. Its too much. Trying not to get dragged down by V, I forgot about all the other musical traps. I miss them both. What hurts the most is being so close to my dasiy and being unable to save her. What hurst the most is being so close to having long term love with V and losing it all in the blink of an eye.

Daily Struggles

I wrote a very thoughtful post about my trouble with boundries. However when I went to post it something went wrong and it reverted to its first draft. So instead of that you get this.

Daily struggles

I have become more sleep intuitive. I don't know how this happened. I still spend most of my time sleeping alone. If my bedmate moves I adjust. Also if they pull away or want to be cuddled differently I can do that half asleep. Them waking up in the morning doesn't wake me up yet but I do look for them in my sleep. Now I just need a regular bedmate.

Skittles: Irrelevant good new

I am no longer romantically attracted to Lovely. I do love them to pieces but its different now. Its not a wild fire. Its a cold flame. It burn but is cold to the touch. Its also controlled. Its not endangering or able to hurt either of us. This is nice. It is going to make life easier. I still have sex feels about them though. Honestly I prefer it this way, I can handle lust.

P.S: What I meant to say

Content trigger warning:
Suicide
Suicidal ideation
Sexual violence
Physical violence
Rape
Death talk

Lovely,

Thank you for letting me visit. Thank you for trying to save me. Thank you for loving me even when its hard. I'm broken. I was broken when you met me. I've continued to break down since then. I'm sorry, I didn't want to ask this off you. I know its too much. I keep very few trusted confidants. It makes it easier to keep secrets. It makes it hard to get support. I never learned to trust. I'm trying to learn. The few people I do keep either turn against me and I have to end them in everyway possible expect physically. Or they die. Before I got to college I got tired of going to funerals. I keep a small inner circle because I can only stand so much loss. It also takes forever for me to open up. Some people in my life have been there for 10 years and still don't know me as well as you do. I want you to know your emotional labor is greatly appreciated. It means more to me than you'll ever be able to comprehend. I will never be able to repay you but I will try.

I have actually pulled people from the water when they were drowning, complete strangers. That's been my job since I was 15. I have saved my friends' lives countless times. I am the person people run to when thighs go wrong. I've been doing that since 4th or 5th grade. Right after thier heart breaks, when they are in trouble, when they aren't safe, when they are going through it mentally, or when they need something handled people call me. I save. I get calls in the middle of the night and I get in my car. I have gotten on countless planes for people. Who saves me though? Just two people. You and my bestfriend. I try to keep your load light. When I've messed up and I'm metaphorically covered in blood I never thought I'd show up at your door. Husband number 7 has always been the one to help me get ride of everything. I'm suppose to go to him. For this I couldn't though. He didn't understand. I want you to know I'm a  meticulous planner. I worry and plan for the worst. I have plans for everything from nuclear war, natural disasters, all the way to deaths and being a fugitive/ enemy of the state. I didn't have a plan for this. I didn't know what to do or have some else to turn to.

I am a sexual violence and rape survivor. I never thought I would be here. I have very few regrets in my 24 years of life. I think I had two before this. This is makes three. I can see myself doing a lot as I've been through a lot. I have a history of violence. I got into serious fights (like imagine tv prison fights) growing up. For all but two altercations, I would black out. I always remember asking whoever was picking on me to leave me alone. I would ask other people to tell them I'm just having a bad day and tomorrow they can pick on me all they want. I would say please don't touch me. "Not today, any day but today. Please I don't want to fight." I would usually say. I was never fighter if I was picked on or beat up I would just take it usually. But about once a year I would have a bad day and they wouldn't leave me alone. Then the next thing I remember when I got into fights is being in the principles office crying and usually bloodly, not my blood. At this point the principal had already called my mom and/or Dad. The Police were usually in the room standing in the back or outside of the door. When I came to I eventually stopped being shocked. My mom/Dad would yell at me on the phone and ask what did I do. My answer was always I don't know/ I can't remember. My parents or the principal would be the first to give me a one or two sentence synopsis of what I did. From kindergarten to 8th grade I was bullied/tormented mercilessly. I got the one by the year except for  when I was in 7th grade. For 7 years  ones that stand out the most in those 7 years are when I beat a kid with a chair, broke a girl's leg and dislocated that same knee cap, beat up/ sent to the hospital three brothers on the playground all older than me, and I left a permanent scar of my initials on the back of one girl's neck . I don't remember any of this but I was told by the principal, my parents, the police and everyone at school. If everyone had the same story of time that I don't remember then its the truth or I live in a black mirror episode. I remember one plan my childhood best friend and I planned that was violent. I remember that same bestfriend and I getting into a fight before I went to a different highschool. I remember those two things better than yesterday. Its like a DVD in my brain that I can play anytime. This is being added to the collection of trauma.

This was never something I thought I could do.  Its destroying me. I didn't make it to pick you up from work because I spent three hours picking. My foot is bloody. I couldn't walk because it hurt and my leg cramped from the way I had it positioned. I ate which is a victory but I still wake up in the middle of the night crying. I reached out to you and you where either hot (I hope you were just hot), or you secretly hate me/don't trust me/ don't feel the same way about me any more. Which is fine. I would/will understand considering. Know that no matter what you decide to do from this point on, I'm glad we are/were friends. Thank you for always being there.
Love,

J-Skittles

I will never send this to them. I don't want them to worry. This very much sounds like a suicide goodbye letter and its not. I also don't want them to know I'm self mutilating. I just want them to know that I wouldn't have asked this of them if I had anyone else. I'm trying not to die. Its really hard. I already wanted to die. When I was with V I was happy and still wanted to die. I just didn't want to want to die when I was with V.  Now I really want to die. I don't have anything in me that doesn't want to want to die. My brain keeps telling me I deserve to die. It also says this is the perfect time. Everyone will understand how I end up dead becuase of what's going on. I have no reason to fight, but I am. I keep telling myself:
1) Death is the easy way out. You can't learn and do better if you're dead. V wants me to learn and do better.

2) I don't deserve to die over this.

3 ) My brain says I'm a monster. My brain is sick and this is making it worse. I am nothing like the people who hurt me. I didn't mean to and I didn't know. I know that if it had been diffrent I wouldn't be here because I'm not a moster. Live and remind yourself you're not a monster.

Skittles: Dress the part

What does one wear to be publicly crucified? I've been the executor. I wore a dark royal blue. I wanted to look like death but righteous and justified. It was a modest outfit that covered basically everything. Through covered it still complemented my shape in all of its fem-ness. One earring, not flashly, and a pair of wedges. I have been the prosecutor watching justice be delivered. Gold, royal, flashly, and victorious. My outfit was meant to catch all eyes, it was meant to make me the focus. Gold looks great on my skin so I can show as much of my skin as I want. The gold makes me look like I'm glowing. Two earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet all of it gaudy. Black stilettos with gold accents. I've been the jugde who made the decision. Purple, serious, and to be held in high regard. No decision made lightly and with a pure but heavy conscious. My deep purple outfit is the epitome of that. A dress simple, rather plain, classic, and dignified. Two earrings, black and proper. Black business heels. I've been a spectator cream, green, or coral works. Nothing more than a shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

I've been every part of the spectacle but the executed. I don't know what to wear. White would say innocent, and a wrongful death. It would be very Jesus-esque. Not what I'm going for. Red is a rebell color. I would be going down fighting and denying people the blood bath. It would be spitefull. Again not what I'm trying to say. Yellow, and Orange are cries for attention. Black is defeated, already dead, and denise the blood bath. I'm not dead yet. I want to give them the satisfaction of killing me. Green is too natural, its too alive. I've been thinking about grey or sliver. Grey is dreary enough. The blood will show through but not too graphicly. It is a sad solemn color. I think I could make myself look hate-able in grey. Silver is an unflattering color on me. Its also second best. It's a metallic color and so I can wear it as armor. I can die an enemy soldier. I just want to be hated, everybody to feel justified, and people to get the closure they need. I want to give them w what they want/need out of this crucifixion. It should be a simple outfit that conveys extrem regret and gulit. No earings, no jewelry, not even my pride bracelets. Simple sandles on my feet to convey humbleness. No makeup, I want to be visible as I am, vulnerable. I want to display humility. I don't know how to be the perfect "villian", but I'm trying.

Skittles: Please don't let me hurt you again

Right now my biggest fear isn't the fallout of what I've done. I'm not afraid of watching everything I've been working on since 2014 go up in flames.  I'm not afraid of being kicked out of community and being alone. I live most of my life lonely anyway and I know its going to be a long fall from the heavens where I have been living as a deity. I am not afraid of the pain when I hit the ground. I am not afraid to shatter, its going to look like something in me exploxed. I will become so many tiny pieces so close to sand. I have done this all before. I am a phoenix of sorts. Every so often everything I know, everything I've built burns to ash. I go up in the most destructive, all comsuming, beautiful flames. Only a few people have lived to see this. Fewer still are there waiting for me as I'm reborn. None of this is new or scary.

I am afraid of having to talk to her. Vendetta will probably want to talk to me at some point. I am living in fear of getting that text, call, or facebook message. I am not afraid of what she will say. No matter what she says I am already dead. Her words will just add fuel to the flames. She will make this quicker, easier. I am not afraid of doing whatever she wants me to. I can and I will. I am afraid of what I will say. I love her and I want her to be happy. It is easiest for me to do that, to not interfere from far away. I am afraid I will ask her to stay knowing that she shouldn't. I am afraid of convincing her to still love me even when I know she needs to let me go. I am afraid of pulling her back into my madness. I am afraid of getting her to trust me again knowing that I will only hurt her. I am afraid that she will feel bad for me, that she will want to help me, and/or that she will empathize with me making it that much harder for her to cut all ties.

I will not be trying to do any of this. I know better. I just hurt too. I still love her. I can't stop the apologies from slipping out of my lips. I can't stop the justification from escaping the cage of teeth. I can't force the sense of longing from my eyes. I am just so dam enticing, inviting that the blatant warnings of danger seem to be a bit extreme. I appear so harmless even though my lair is filling with carcasses and every bit of surface is stained in blood, I could not have possibly done it. After I have torn someone half way to shreds, and they watched me do this to them, I still could not be the culprit. My heart is made of gold and my intentions are pure. How could I be so destructive? They always come back to me. They absolve me of all responsibility, take all the blame, and pick themselves from my teeth. Then I finish then off. I kill them and no one believes me.

Right now she one of the only people who believe I'm a monster. If you who watch me rise from the ashes each time know. They are not afraid because they stay out of reach, out of harms way. If she comes back she will forget, and I will kill her.  I'm afraid to hurt her. I really don't want to hurt her anymore than I already have. I never wanted to hurt her in the first place.

I'm afraid I'm misleadingly dangerous, and if she gets too close I'll hurt her.

Daily Struggles

Me: I hate myself. I'm going to self isolate so that I can't hurt anyone else.

Therapist: that's a bad idea

Best friend: very bad idea.

Me: fine I'll go to work and swim

Therapist and Best friend: sounds good!

Brain: you can't do anything if I keep you awake and crying

Body: you won't have any energy if I don't let you eat.

Brain and Body: you suck and must suffer.

Me: My Brain and Body won't let me. I think they want me to suffer. I'm going to stay home.

Therapist: No!!!

Best Friend: at least suffer outside.

So now I'm slowly dying in my hammock between the trees I grew up with.

P.S.: To my Dear Comrades, Lovers, Friends, and Kink Family

It is hard for me to write this. Torn between professionalism and my deep love for each of you individually, I struggle not only with words but tone. So I write this, my letter of resignation, as private, intimate, and extremely personal break up letter. I am sorry. I am sorry for the hurt I am causing. I am sorry for sending KU to its all but certain death. I am trying to write this without excuses. I want to write it were I take 100% accountability for my actions. I messed up and deeply hurt someone I love with my actions, intentions aside, that is the truth and the point. Those actions, that moment, even now having drawn to a close, continues to hurt people. Each of you have become unwilling collateral damage. The people I will never reach, help, teach, etc have also been robbed and hurt. My love and respect for everyone involed, my ex and each of you is why I must leave. Abusers, regardless of thier intentions, have no place in our work. My presence is no longer a neutral one, I now jeopardize the safe space we try and create in our work. If I make someone uncomfortable because of my actions, my mistake, I must be removed. I love each of you so much to not burden you with the penance I must now pay. I have loved almost every moment I had the privilege of being your fearless leader. I love and cherish every moment I spent learning, growing, laughing, and bonding with each of you. I will miss this so much. There is so much I wanted to do.  KU deserves better. KU deserves something I am no longer capable of giving it. I will only hurt KU by staying so I must leave.  When you love something, or some ones, its/ thier happiness is just as important as your own. I want KU, you all, to be happy, with or without me, whatever KU/ you all need.  In order to do what it does, I must leave KU. I leave becuase I love KU. I love KU selflessly. I love KU because I love all of you. I leave becuase I respect all of you. Know that my love, even through no longer present, never waivers. It does not diminish. It is as strong today as it were yesterday, as it will be tomorrow. My love endures. Never doubt that I love KU, never doubt that I love all of you.
From the bottom of an overflowing heart,

J Skittles.

This, or some version of this, will eventually be sent. My now ex girl friend says I raped her. I do not deny the claim. I only want to add it is more complicated than it appears. In the future when she makes her claim public that is all I will say on the matter. I am not here for people sympathizing with rape perpetrators. This is not about me. The community's energy is better spent focusing on healing my ex. Helping her over come trauma. I refuse to take away from that. In turn being labeled an abuser I must leave projects, groups, and KU. There is no space for abusers in the spaces I use to inhabit.

Here however, I will speak because I have the space to do so without taking away. She says I raped her. I do not deny it. Her truth is based on the fact that during sex (after we had already started and where rather in the middle of things) she told me to slow down and wait. I did not because over the noise of the night, myself, and the music I didn't hear her. I herd nothing until she asked me if we could take a break, to which I of course said yes and stopped. To me when someone in kink ask/ tells me to slow down that means pause and check in unless otherwise agreed upon. Wait to me means the same thing. She knows this and I failed to do so because I didn't hear her. I did not intend to rape her, but I did. So it is not as clear cut as it may seems. When I herd her I acknowledged and stopped. I did not ignore her. But I am still responsible so I agree, I did rape her.