Even if it is little

I ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS GET THE SAME FEEDBACK WHEN THEY GET BACK IN TOUCH WITH ME

Neither of my supervisors had never gotten it before either. They had to think for a while, and then it turned into them telling me how great I am and what they love about me.

This stuff is real. I would also say: none of it is lying. This is taking experience that you normally downplay and write off, and putting it in accurate words they’ll understand.

It’s hacking the capitalist system. Why ISN’T helping a kid with homework “tutoring”, when the only thing missing is a paycheck?

It’s especially important for anyone who isn’t a cis white man, because many of us are so thoroughly trained to feel like we are not good enough.

Privilege tells people they can fake it, and that they’re good enough just as people and can learn the skills on the job. Abuse and oppression tell people they aren’t good enough as people and that even their high skills are probably below average, and that unless they had the specific job title or were using certain skills officially, nobody will think it counts.

it’s the age of the internet and our empathy is evolving. yes, isn’t long-distance now so easy. there’s a lot we have to be thankful for.

but there’s a lot that’s changing. there’s no words for the emotion you feel when someone is taking a picture with you that you know is only happening because they want to look fun and popular and you’re a prop; there’s no word for when you know it’s because you’re uglier than them and it makes them look good - there’s no word for watching people socialize for social media credit. we know it happens. not just “hang on let me take a picture of my food.” not just “i’ve got to text my mom back, one sec.” i mean that strange distance between two people who comment on each other’s posts but cannot connect in person. i mean you pour out your soul on twitter but then clam up in person. i mean internet loneliness; the sensation of 212 thousand followers and still so empty, knowing if the plane goes down, the ocean of the internet will wash out your memory. 

“i want a friend date,” she says, and he snorts - you mean friends?

it’s hard, sometimes. finding a best friend. when i was little i had an assignment about it. i remember crying in the hallway because i didn’t have one. everyone else in class did. i wrote about my shadow. i didn’t fit in. over the years i’ve had a couple. one turned out pure evil. a few were my best friend but i wasn’t theirs, in the end. a lot just drifted from me until we were only friends by nostalgia, not connection. but i ached for the feeling of a best friend the whole time: the person you can be silent with, the person you can be wild with, the person you can be 100% yourself with.

we live in a society where romance is said to be the only space you’re allowed to really be close with someone. how many of us have said to make sure you marry your best friend. we know from dating that there exists a kind of connection we don’t always get in our friends - even a platonic one, a connection of spirit, a freedom of behavior. 

i get it. a platonic date sounds wonderful. it’s not hurting anybody. let’s both have three seconds where we’re honest with each other in a raw kind of way. it’s terrifying. or we could just talk about what’s bothering you. i’m also still fucked up about the avatar: the last airbender ending; i also don’t get katara and aang. 

it’s about trust. about vulnerability. so yeah. maybe i’ve done all kinds of platonic-date things. but i’ve also had the opposite happen: the non-friend. someone you don’t want to cut out, not necessarily - but not someone you can tell your secrets to in the end. i think what we’re all asking for is to be less lonely. we want to get close to people, but we don’t want to seem like we’re hitting on somebody.