singapore sling (1990) type human being

slow burn where they're already having sex. such a beautiful combination i cannot put it into words

"only 90s kids remember-" wrong, if you're poor and/or rural enough, old tech and fashion doesn't just disappear when it stops being trendy. We had dial-up until 2012

i love the idea that 'binaries' are an inherently bad analytical tool. any analysis that creates boxes is bad because boxes are a kind of violence. to differentiate is to carve. in fact, a true gender accelerationist understands that language itself is harmful. all interpretation is violent. to define is to sin. real abolitionists never speak and spend all day burning dictionaries.

the reason sex scenes exist in fiction is because sometimes people have sex but also to find out what the characters are lying to everyone including themselves about by wrapping that agonising vulnerability in a treat like giving medicine to a dog

i don't really have strong feelings about anything at all i just practice complaining recreationally in case i someday get a chance to enter the big leagues and express a desire or perhaps even a need

always such a struggle when you get to the sex scene part of the fic you're writing and you're not horny at all. i don't know. their things were touching. without ANY underwear. the end.

it’s so hard for me to not doxx myself every single day btw. my oversharer’s spirit is being stifled by internet safety

my issue is that i’ve spent so much time sad and lonely and hurting that “life is full of ups and downs” does not comfort me or make sense to me in the slightest. it feels like perpetual lows. i am constantly in a hole in the dirt. i was born there. i’ve been allowed out a few times. transferred to a shallower one. but most of my time has been in Some Fucking Hole (lol) and there’s no high or up or “”good”” that makes any of that feel worth it. i rarely experience them at all. i don’t want to exist with sadness anymore at all. which is childish and selfish and, ultimately, impossible, but i’m tired. that’s been my entire life. it’s not enough to have moments of being “okay.” i am greedy and stupid and just want to exist in a way that is constantly and consistently painless. i am tired of hurting. i don’t want to anymore.

like it’s not enough. none of this is enough. i have been genetically and environmentally set up for this constant stupid fucking hollowness that aches and never goes away. or what the hell ever

it's a really incredible attitude that encourages healing and sincerity that we've cultivated towards abuse as a society, where you can talk about the things that happened to you that still regularly wake you up screaming and how that affects the way you experience the world and be told "but what if you were the real source of danger for being able to think about these awful things and put them into words? stay away from other people, you disgusting, dirty freak"