vegⒶn

I’ve had this blog since I was about 14, and looking back at it, I realize how fucking creepy men were to me once I started getting more into the straight edge scene. 

On this blog, I already talked about how I was sexually harassed by AngelXVX/Angel Clary (who no longer has a tumblr, for he is not only manipulative but is a compulsive liar and a sexual predator), but now I am back on here to talk about my relationship (not dating-wise) with Dylan Evans.

Dylan Evans and I started talking when I was 15 years old, and he was 20. He knew, from the start, what my age was — and continued to tell me how attractive I was, how he would date me if I was there, and so on. And at the time (and probably now, I cut ties with him once I started realizing how shitty he was), he was known as a flirt, and as a 15 year old, I did not see a problem with a grown man flirting with me.

Here are some of our old conversations; this is not all of them, we had some over texts, but I do not use that phone any longer, so I do not have proof of those.

(I only screenshotted the conversation parts that were inappropriate for a 20 year old to say to a 15 year old)

and here’s the thing, Dylan: you haven’t changed. You’re still a predator, you’re still a creep. And it’s not like people don’t call you out on it too! Here, let’s look at some screenshots I took from looking at your newer posts from your blog:

You literally made consent out to seem like a joke. The anon was right you were being creepy.

And let’s not forget to mention how to talk about women (specifically women of color, you fetishizing piece of shit):

but then, when girls dont give a shit about you (which they don’t have to, you entitled fuckass), you sit there and whine about it

and let’s not forget about times where you talk about/reblog shit about manipulating and or sexually assaulting girls! 

See, Dylan, time hasn’t changed you. You haven’t learned anything. You are still a sexually manipulative predator, who only gives a shit about getting himself off. 

Codi Newman is an emotionally/mentally abusive and manipulative rapist. He lives in Augusta, Georgia. I think he’s single now, and I suspect that he’s looking for new people to hang around with so he can fuck their lives up. He usually finds women in his area on Facebook. I seriously, seriously, seriously advise you all against communicating with him if you can help it. There are tons of receipts on his abusive behavior right here (massive tw for rape. emotional abuse, ableism). This is the most current picture of him that I know of:  

I’ve been trying really hard lately not to get mad. I have been given an amazing opportunity. An opportunity to leave Georgia, move to New York, go to graduate school and really give television writing and comedy a real shot. I got a Dean’s fellowship for New York University, so my tuition is paid for. Without that, I wouldn’t even be able to go to the school, whether I got accepted or not. I’ve got 100 dollars to my name and family who doesn’t have the means (and for some, the care) to support me in my endeavors. Ever since I moved out of my mother’s house (and away from a bad home situation) I’ve been working, saving, bartering and begging to be able to stay out on my own, and go to school and graduate cum laude with honors, along with completing an undergraduate thesis that included an original 67-minute drama pilot in the style of HBO. I also did all those things while dealing with a visual impairment that makes it impossible for me to legally drive. And I’m not saying I did it all with a smile, but I did it.

And now I have reached the hump, America. I start class in September and all I need is a place in New York to leave. I’ve been rejected for student housing multiple times. None of my family members in the area have room for me. I’m all on my own, here. I applied for a loan from NYU to help with finances, but I won’t be able to use that money until after class starts. I need to be in a place before that happens. Which means that I need to pay to get into a place. Once the loan kicks in, I’ll be fine. I’m just asking for a start, a chance. That is all I want.

Still, I’ve been watching time and time again as people repost the link to my funding page, retweet it, like it on Facebook, but all the while my goal is nowhere near reached. But that is not necessarily my issue here. My issue is, that  I’m accepting any amount as a donation. 1 dollar, 3 dollars, 5 dollars. Any amount. That’s how much some people pay for apps or song downloads or cookies at the mall. I’m not asking for a full thousand or even a full hundred, and yet I feel like I’m being ignored.

And this just makes me insecure. I don’t know WHY this is happening. Is it because people don’t really think I need the help? Do they just assume I’ll be fine and that I’m not really in need? Do they just not care? Are they jealous? Do they believe the fellowship is enough and that I don’t deserve more help? Do they believe that there are other people more in need than me? Are they just broke? Do they just keep forgetting me?

I don’t know. And I’m not here to judge anymore.

But I have come at all my financial problems in the most humble way possible. I mentioned the fellowship, even though maybe I might lose sympathy because I have it. I haven’t whined on and on about my eyes and how the world isn’t fair or how my parents should have taken better care of me (even though they should have). I’m just asking for a little money to help me along. And in return, I’ll write you a poem. I’ll write you a review. I’ll write you a story. I’ll send you a thank-you postcard. Anything.

I was afraid to make a funding page. Afraid of seeming spoiled and smug and ungrateful. Afraid that no one would want to help a black girl, because I’ve only seen these things work for white people. Afraid that people would assume that from my speech and appearance and demeanor and academic achievement that I’m privileged or worse, that I’ve been pushed along by affirmative action and didn’t really deserve any of it.

I had a lot of anxiety creating my GoFundMe page. So much. I started out being really vague about everything. And then later, with the coaching of my friends, I opened up more about being legally blind and my struggles with getting around and maintaining employment and being independent.

And as it turned out, none of those things seemed to make any difference.

And then I heard about this fundraiser for potato salad. I saw all the people pouring their money into a food. And you know what, I totally get that. People love novelty things. People love random things. People will pour their money into something they find funny or amusing or just interesting.

But I try to get a little money so that I can get on my feet, and that only gets a few donations from friends and family. Well, alright.

I also noticed the funding campaign of a black woman trying to buy some white privilege.

I have spent most of my life being afraid of making white people feel uncomfortable. Comedy that made fun of white people gave me an awkward feeling. Seeing Django Unchained with my white date made me uncomfortable. For him, not me. I had a weird complex about not making white people feel “too bad” for having privilege. In part, because most of my friends and romantic partners were white. I spoke well, and growing up, black kids would basically just call me white. So white people were always the people I was most comfortable with. They didn’t make me feel lame or corny.

When I grew up, that changed and I was able to identify that I did not “favor” white people over black people. It was a cultural thing. I just happened to have more in common with the white people I knew. Movie taste, book taste and all those things. And I also realized that their kindness to me did not change their position of privilege within the social and political structure of America.

All of these feelings and thoughts flooded back to me when I heard about this woman’s campaign.

When I first looked at it, I was shocked. It was basically a campaign funded on “white guilt.” And people were actually giving her money! Whoa. How insane.

And then, I gave it a second look.

And I got to thinking: If I re-did my GoFundMe campaign with a picture of a pretty, slender, white woman…would it make more money? I mean, I’m already getting beat by potato salad. So it’s worth a shot, right?

Going over these thoughts in my head caused me to gain a better appreciation for that woman’s campaign. Good on her, for being brave and telling the truth and trying to use the truth to get ahead.

Maybe that is what I need to do, too.

I’m a half-blind, bisexual, feminist, socially liberal black woman that is trying to become a successful television writer. I want to tell stories about people of color. I want to tell stories about LBGTQ people. I want to tell stories about the disabled, about the people that are so often ignored or shafted to minor characters and C-plots. These people are living. On blogs, on the internet, on the stage. And I want them to be able to make it to the box. To the screen. To the eyes of all the people that want to see them. The people that have to see them.

They deserve to be seen. I deserve to be seen.

If you would like to help, here’s the link:

I’ve had this blog since I was about 14, and looking back at it, I realize how fucking creepy men were to me once I started getting more into the straight edge scene. 

On this blog, I already talked about how I was sexually harassed by AngelXVX/Angel Clary (who no longer has a tumblr, for he is not only manipulative but is a compulsive liar and a sexual predator), but now I am back on here to talk about my relationship (not dating-wise) with Dylan Evans.

Dylan Evans and I started talking when I was 15 years old, and he was 20. He knew, from the start, what my age was — and continued to tell me how attractive I was, how he would date me if I was there, and so on. And at the time (and probably now, I cut ties with him once I started realizing how shitty he was), he was known as a flirt, and as a 15 year old, I did not see a problem with a grown man flirting with me.

Here are some of our old conversations; this is not all of them, we had some over texts, but I do not use that phone any longer, so I do not have proof of those.

(I only screenshotted the conversation parts that were inappropriate for a 20 year old to say to a 15 year old)

and here’s the thing, Dylan: you haven’t changed. You’re still a predator, you’re still a creep. And it’s not like people don’t call you out on it too! Here, let’s look at some screenshots I took from looking at your newer posts from your blog:

You literally made consent out to seem like a joke. The anon was right you were being creepy.

And let’s not forget to mention how to talk about women (specifically women of color, you fetishizing piece of shit):

but then, when girls dont give a shit about you (which they don’t have to, you entitled fuckass), you sit there and whine about it

and let’s not forget about times where you talk about/reblog shit about manipulating and or sexually assaulting girls! 

See, Dylan, time hasn’t changed you. You haven’t learned anything. You are still a sexually manipulative predator, who only gives a shit about getting himself off. 

I’ve had this blog since I was about 14, and looking back at it, I realize how fucking creepy men were to me once I started getting more into the straight edge scene. 

On this blog, I already talked about how I was sexually harassed by AngelXVX/Angel Clary (who no longer has a tumblr, for he is not only manipulative but is a compulsive liar and a sexual predator), but now I am back on here to talk about my relationship (not dating-wise) with Dylan Evans.

Dylan Evans and I started talking when I was 15 years old, and he was 20. He knew, from the start, what my age was — and continued to tell me how attractive I was, how he would date me if I was there, and so on. And at the time (and probably now, I cut ties with him once I started realizing how shitty he was), he was known as a flirt, and as a 15 year old, I did not see a problem with a grown man flirting with me.

Here are some of our old conversations; this is not all of them, we had some over texts, but I do not use that phone any longer, so I do not have proof of those.

(I only screenshotted the conversation parts that were inappropriate for a 20 year old to say to a 15 year old)

and here’s the thing, Dylan: you haven’t changed. You’re still a predator, you’re still a creep. And it’s not like people don’t call you out on it too! Here, let’s look at some screenshots I took from looking at your newer posts from your blog:

You literally made consent out to seem like a joke. The anon was right you were being creepy.

And let’s not forget to mention how to talk about women (specifically women of color, you fetishizing piece of shit):

but then, when girls dont give a shit about you (which they don’t have to, you entitled fuckass), you sit there and whine about it

and let’s not forget about times where you talk about/reblog shit about manipulating and or sexually assaulting girls! 

See, Dylan, time hasn’t changed you. You haven’t learned anything. You are still a sexually manipulative predator, who only gives a shit about getting himself off. 

On this blog, I already talked about how I was sexually harassed by AngelXVX/Angel Clary (who no longer has a tumblr, for he is not only manipulative but is a compulsive liar and a sexual predator), but now I am back on here to talk about my relationship (not dating-wise) with Dylan Evans.

Dylan Evans and I started talking when I was 15 years old, and he was 20. He knew, from the start, what my age was — and continued to tell me how attractive I was, how he would date me if I was there, and so on. And at the time (and probably now, I cut ties with him once I started realizing how shitty he was), he was known as a flirt, and as a 15 year old, I did not see a problem with a grown man flirting with me.

Here are some of our old conversations; this is not all of them, we had some over texts, but I do not use that phone any longer, so I do not have proof of those.

(I only screenshotted the conversation parts that were inappropriate for a 20 year old to say to a 15 year old)

and here’s the thing, Dylan: you haven’t changed. You’re still a predator, you’re still a creep. And it’s not like people don’t call you out on it too! Here, let’s look at some screenshots I took from looking at your newer posts from your blog:

You literally made consent out to seem like a joke. The anon was right you were being creepy.

And let’s not forget to mention how to talk about women (specifically women of color, you fetishizing piece of shit):

but then, when girls dont give a shit about you (which they don’t have to, you entitled fuckass), you sit there and whine about it

and let’s not forget about times where you talk about/reblog shit about manipulating and or sexually assaulting girls! 

See, Dylan, time hasn’t changed you. You haven’t learned anything. You are still a sexually manipulative predator, who only gives a shit about getting himself off. 

On this blog, I already talked about how I was sexually harassed by AngelXVX/Angel Clary (who no longer has a tumblr, for he is not only manipulative but is a compulsive liar and a sexual predator), but now I am back on here to talk about my relationship (not dating-wise) with Dylan Evans.

Dylan Evans and I started talking when I was 15 years old, and he was 20. He knew, from the start, what my age was — and continued to tell me how attractive I was, how he would date me if I was there, and so on. And at the time (and probably now, I cut ties with him once I started realizing how shitty he was), he was known as a flirt, and as a 15 year old, I did not see a problem with a grown man flirting with me.

Here are some of our old conversations; this is not all of them, we had some over texts, but I do not use that phone any longer, so I do not have proof of those.

(I only screenshotted the conversation parts that were inappropriate for a 20 year old to say to a 15 year old)