simply vibin

somewhere in the middle

i see what you're referring to, but that "never get that final block in place" thing is what infinity is for. the infinity is kind of for the moment when you do the final thing in a never ending pattern. its the last number. there is no last number. its there. you can see it. you cannot get there. but what if you did? then you'd be at two. you are at two. you measure the corners of your house. its a little bigger on the inside than the out. hm.

There is no place where this is more obvious than when people talk about tdicks. Tdicks are not disgusting or unhygienic or dysfunctional. They look totally unremarkable and can be cleaned just fine. But they're not what "ought" to be there according to patriarchy. Now there is a very tangible (and phallic) reminder that transition cannot be undone and that this person is not interested in being a walking hole and nothing else.

So patriarchy punishes these individuals in the way it is used to punishing people it wants to keep subordinate: by slamming the "ugly, ugly, ugly" button. This takes very little adjustment; it already believes that the vulva is disgusting and that is why it makes one inferior. So they tweak one parameter and say: tdicks are ugly. Tdicks are sickening, nauseating, foul to behold and foul to smell and foul to penetrate with and foul to have. A self-respecting female trans person would never want something so gross, so mutilated, so ugly, ugly, ugly. And that is why these trans people are bad.

Like it's bad when a "tattoo is undulating" (as opposed to... "drawn in a wave like pattern on the skin"?), or when hair is "wet wheat from a late Summer field" (as opposed to "sort of brownish light yellow that dries lighter, but is not actual wheat stalks growing on someone's head but kind of reminiscent of the color and texture"?), or when when ice cream tastes like midnight at the fair" (as opposed to "ice cream flavour bringing back memories of undefined ice cream flavours that are individually popular but always tied to a memory of late evening at the fair ground and probably smelling vaguely like popcorn and sugar"?).