black oceans beneath

anyway you should always remember that all those foreigners you see dying on the news are just as real people as you are who have just as much interiority as you do. there is nothing about you that makes you more important and it is by pure chance that you are not in their position. in fact, this holds for all of history. every person, no matter the horror of the fate that befell them, had just as much interiority as you do. i feel like some people haven't fully internalized this.

"i do not dream of labour" is one of the worst pseudo-marxist taglines that western leftists have co-opted because when you ask them what they do dream of, they say traveling, studying, and creating art. broski, who's flying the plane to take you to prague? who's the security at the library with the texts you're studying? who are the clerks in the museum showcasing your art? like bro, you do dream of labour. you just dream of someone else doing it so you don't have to! you merely want to outsource the labour and make it invisible.

“male loneliness epidemic” and “friendzoning” are similar concepts to me in that the conditions they describe are literally experienced by everyone at some point in their lives but when its men its some sort of profound injustice that needs to be rectified by checks notes giving them unfettered access to the public good that is Women

also the former "epidemic" being taken up in pop discourse explicitly or implicitly as a pathological consequence of feminism having "gone too far" instead of actually doing the work to connect social isolation to existing material conditions....no no don't worry about it just default to blaming women for men's sadness and dissatisfaction bc otherwise you'd have to confront capitalism and misogyny and white supremacy etc. etc. and nobody wants to do that so. its somehow very aggravating and boring at the same time. whenever i see think-pieces that follow this script i instantly fall into a furious slumber

classic rock song youtube comments section is like girlblogging for wistful divorced dads