to my breasts.
This being breast cancer awareness month, I’ve been contemplating writing a piece that could contribute to the already swelling masses of information that are currently out there vying for that future we all envision… the one where breasts everywhere are cancer free.
Well, I suppose we should start by examining why breasts matter.
1. They’re pretty as shit.
I dunno about anyone else, but frankly, breasts are one of the most beautiful forms to contemplate. Unless they’re your own after 4 kids, but meh…
2. They’re functional as shit.
They keep people alive exclusively for their first trimester on earth.
3. They make a difference.
In this, our gender confused society, the only real visible difference between men and women (aside mannerisms which we’ve now learned can be shared), is boobs. As soon as you have those, the world gets a wake up call that you’re now a woman.
We live in a breast negative society… Don’t deny it, you know its true…
Now… do we have to wonder why breast cancer exists?
Extrapolate to the other cancers that plague us…. would it then follow logically that we live in a human negative society?
I’m not advocating we go tits up, well… maybe. Maybe if we went tits up, we could see the pretty… we would function… we would make a difference.
Scientists in labs have been dissecting this problem under a microscope my entire lifetime. My mother used to joke that she had the cure for cancer in the fridge. People are still dying, and now my mother is gone too.
I don’t know what a cancer gene looks like, I’ve never looked at a mammogram, never found a lump.
I’ve been felt up, fed four babies, and wake up in the morning… proud of what I see.
So proud in fact, that I showcase them in my art… but never, despite the fact that I am entitled to by law… promenaded down the street topless… although I did flash the cops the night of June 20th, 2009. I was very disappointed they didn’t arrest me.
I’ve frequently been accused of being indecent for my proclivities… Indecency is relative… I’m woman enough to know when and where, and I know I’ve prevented wardrobe malfunctions that would have shed a dark light on me.
No one ever tells you what to do with your tits other than mammogram them… I feel a tat coming on….