Just so everyone is aware, if abortion rights get taken away in England too, there is going to be a rise in 'missing babies' and infanticide.
Not even pulling shit out of my ass.
Have any of you ever talked to old women in nursing homes? Ever had one tell you that when she was a teen she drowned her baby in a lake because she couldn't be a mother at her age?
It happened more then was talked about, and it will happen again, and this time we'll be stepping further back because we have been fighting for over a hundred years and we are still fucking fighting.
I'm 19, and I'm tired already.
I'm 19, in the modern world, and still my bones ache with the dread that the fight will not be over until ions past my own death.
And I can say, for a fact, that if abortion rights get taken, if womens rights get taken, this time we won't be protesting peacefully.
You people are fucking lucky that up until now we wanted Equity, and not Revenge.
Next time I see a man give his opinion on abortion like it's any of his goddamn business, and next time I see someone drag their bloody religion into my genitalia, I'm going to smash a brick through their window or their skull. Whichever is closer.
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i love you all and i need you to stop writing trauma as a single breakdown scene in the rain after which the character is Healed and Ready to Love Again. that is NOT trauma :(
⊹ Trauma doesn't announce itself. it shows up as your character suddenly not being able to eat a specific food, or going very quiet in a loud room, or laughing at the wrong moment because their nervous system decided that was the appropriate response. it's mundane and weird and it makes no sense from the outside. the dramatic flashback sequence is the least realistic part. the most realistic part is your character suddenly needing to leave a grocery store for a reason they can't articulate.
⊹ The body keeps score and it keeps it in the strangest places. a particular smell. the quality of light at a certain time of day. a tone of voice that sounds like someone who hurt them. your traumatised character doesn't think "this reminds me of the bad thing." their heart rate spikes and they don't know why. they feel wrong and they can't locate the feeling. they're irritable for three days and only later, if ever, do they make the connection. write the disconnection. it's more honest.
⊹ trauma also does not make people universally sympathetic and wise. it makes some people controlling. some people funny at inappropriate times. some people very good in a crisis and completely unable to handle a normal day. some people are generously kind to strangers and absolutely terrible to people they love. trauma shapes behaviour in contradictory, inconvenient ways that don't resolve into a lesson. your traumatised character can be difficult to like. that's not a flaw in the writing. that's the WRITING.
⊹ Healing is not linear and it is not a destination. your character does not get better and stay better. they have a good month and then something small undoes two years of progress and they have to start again with slightly more tools than before. that's the actual shape of it. the spiral, not the arc. the scene where they finally open up and cry is not the end. it might not even be progress. sometimes it just means they were tired that night.
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Shoutouts to Lan Xichen, who just spends the final chapters having the worst day of his life in like five different ways. FIRST he gets kidnapped by his situationship and dragged along to go corpse hunting because????? He likes you and wants you to be there when things break bad and he inevitably has to flee the country: just him, you, and the rotting body he is trying to dig up. Okay. Awesome. Don't know how this is going to shake out.
And THEN your brother's situationship crashes the party, and there's a lot of complicated feelings there, this is the man your brother has absolutely destroyed his life over, this man has caused your brother two decades of pain and suffering as you've had to watch him slowly tear himself apart with grief. Also your brother really desperately wants to sleep with this guy. So. There's that. Also he is just. Visibly covered in hickeys.
And THEN your brother's situationship accidentally lets slip that he's NOT sleeping with your brother and DOESN'T know that your brother is madly in love with him and literally everyone in the building (including your trusted and beloved situationship) has to stop what they're doing and ponder this fundamental flaw in the universe. You are so blinded by rage you temporarily have to play couple's counselor and simultaneously tear this guy a new one for daring to put your little brother through all this grief and not even having the decency to be aware of it. And you're still a hostage (maybe?)
ANYWAYS, then the little brother in question shows up and he also looks like he's having one of the worst days of his life (Worst days of his life #1-#4 also involve his situationship. You know this for a fact.) and your situationship threatens to kill his situationship, which would absolutely skyrocket this from The Fifth Worst Day Of His Life to Numero Uno Worst Day Of His Life.
And THEN the guy being held at knifepoint (stringpoint? Semantics.) takes a deep breath and loudly proclaims to everyone assembled that he DOES want to fuck your brother. He waits a beat. He looks ready to repeat himself.
You stop him.
All of you get shuffled into a further hostage holding area and told to sit tight so you have to sit there and pretend not to overhear your brother and his situationship have an extremely deep and emotional conversation and also talk about all the awesome sex they're going to have if they survive this.
FINALLY you are saved from your agonies by your situationship almost dying and fully revealing himself as a for real villain, which hits like a knife to the heart because you loved him, you thought you could trust him, but you have your principles and you have to stick by them. It's what your other (dead) situationship would have wanted.
ONLY THEN FOR YOUR OTHER (DEAD) SITUATIONSHIP TO SHOW UP.
Your dead situationship is trying to make your other sitautionship also dead and the problem is your dead situationship is really, really good at making things be dead. Actually that's only one of the problems. You have a lot of problems.
For example, you have this problem where you are also really really good at making things be dead and you end up running your sword through your situationship's gut. And with his dying breaths, he tries to drag you with him. Finally, all three of you can be together. One big, happy (extremely dead) situationship.
Except he changes his mind. At the last possible moment. You're alive. And now you have two dead situationships and a box you have to bury and your brother is gone (presumably off to go have gay and epic sex) and you now have to go home and explain this entire thing to everyone and maybe go scream into a pillow and spend the rest of your life contemplating if love was why he tried to kill you or if love was why he saved you. And it's still only Thursday.
Shoutouts to Lan Xichen, who just spends the final chapters having the worst day of his life in like five different ways. FIRST he gets kidnapped by his situationship and dragged along to go corpse hunting because????? He likes you and wants you to be there when things break bad and he inevitably has to flee the country: just him, you, and the rotting body he is trying to dig up. Okay. Awesome. Don't know how this is going to shake out.
And THEN your brother's situationship crashes the party, and there's a lot of complicated feelings there, this is the man your brother has absolutely destroyed his life over, this man has caused your brother two decades of pain and suffering as you've had to watch him slowly tear himself apart with grief. Also your brother really desperately wants to sleep with this guy. So. There's that. Also he is just. Visibly covered in hickeys.
And THEN your brother's situationship accidentally lets slip that he's NOT sleeping with your brother and DOESN'T know that your brother is madly in love with him and literally everyone in the building (including your trusted and beloved situationship) has to stop what they're doing and ponder this fundamental flaw in the universe. You are so blinded by rage you temporarily have to play couple's counselor and simultaneously tear this guy a new one for daring to put your little brother through all this grief and not even having the decency to be aware of it. And you're still a hostage (maybe?)
ANYWAYS, then the little brother in question shows up and he also looks like he's having one of the worst days of his life (Worst days of his life #1-#4 also involve his situationship. You know this for a fact.) and your situationship threatens to kill his situationship, which would absolutely skyrocket this from The Fifth Worst Day Of His Life to Numero Uno Worst Day Of His Life.
And THEN the guy being held at knifepoint (stringpoint? Semantics.) takes a deep breath and loudly proclaims to everyone assembled that he DOES want to fuck your brother. He waits a beat. He looks ready to repeat himself.
You stop him.
All of you get shuffled into a further hostage holding area and told to sit tight so you have to sit there and pretend not to overhear your brother and his situationship have an extremely deep and emotional conversation and also talk about all the awesome sex they're going to have if they survive this.
FINALLY you are saved from your agonies by your situationship almost dying and fully revealing himself as a for real villain, which hits like a knife to the heart because you loved him, you thought you could trust him, but you have your principles and you have to stick by them. It's what your other (dead) situationship would have wanted.
ONLY THEN FOR YOUR OTHER (DEAD) SITUATIONSHIP TO SHOW UP.
Your dead situationship is trying to make your other sitautionship also dead and the problem is your dead situationship is really, really good at making things be dead. Actually that's only one of the problems. You have a lot of problems.
For example, you have this problem where you are also really really good at making things be dead and you end up running your sword through your situationship's gut. And with his dying breaths, he tries to drag you with him. Finally, all three of you can be together. One big, happy (extremely dead) situationship.
Except he changes his mind. At the last possible moment. You're alive. And now you have two dead situationships and a box you have to bury and your brother is gone (presumably off to go have gay and epic sex) and you now have to go home and explain this entire thing to everyone and maybe go scream into a pillow and spend the rest of your life contemplating if love was why he tried to kill you or if love was why he saved you. And it's still only Thursday.
Thinking about how the different MXTX couples would get married.
Luo Binghe and SQQ: we saw it folks, very low key. However if you don’t think Binghe loudly referred to himself as ‘Husband’ at the top of his lungs in every subsequent interaction with someone for months after, you’re wrong.
Lan Zhan and WWX: a family affair at the Cloud Recesses. It’s very simple but nice. Wei Wuxian insists on dressing up like a bride even though everyone assures him he doesn’t have to. Jiang Cheng is invited, no one thinks he’ll show up, but when he does he complains the whole time. Wen Ning cries. Lan Quiren cries for different reasons.
Hua Cheng and Xie Lian: a huge blowout in ghost city. Everyone they’ve ever met is invited. Hua Cheng invites Mu Qing and Nan Feng but the invitations refer to them as handmaidens for the bride. They’re both incredibly offended but show up anyway. At the wedding feast Xie Lian happily tells the assembled guests he cooked one of the dishes himself! But won’t reveal which one. The rest of the banquet is spent in constant terror. It’s Xie Lian’s wedding present to himself.
As much as this may start out as one, this poem is not one of worship. This is in reference to this post, using my own perspectives from life - not inherently as a response to this poor trans person's own poetry and experiences, but heavily inspired by:
💬 0 🔁 12093 ❤️ 17459 · im just so happy i live in a time period where actual meaningful biological transition is possible. even if we los
Click under to read my poem!
Blessed be God.
Blessed be Him, who made all as perfection and timeless and himself,
He who is three, who is they, who is she
He who is one and all and none and free.
You say, "oh blessed be He."
But He gave malformations,
That crooked nose and dotted creations,
Your skin is not smooth nor clear,
And you wonder where He meant to put everything you hold dear,
If it was taken from you.
What chest would He align to your own? What soul matched to body?
And so you pray,
That you may wake up,
And it is bought, the body that is ought to you, kept under lock and key, but there.
It's a cure, for that poet, that priest, who blessed the God that made her wrong,
Misaligned adaptions, her wish to have weight upon her chest and none between her legs,
She mourned that She was a he,
That lies spewed from the lips of all who knew him, for he was not he, but she was her.
Herself, wishing upon stars that God had not made a mistake.
Religion wrapped around her, coiled with the scream of a banshee,
"You are wrong!"
"Blasphemy!"
"He who makes mistakes is not He!"
"Don't you see?"
She nodded, for a hundred years ago there was no cure for her to retain herself.
Mourning for blessings one did not receive, out of place in ones own body,
"SIT DOWN!"
"Just SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!"
"THE BIBLE SAYS HE IS HE, SHE IS SHE, YOU CANNOT BE, YOU CANNOT BE!"
And she nodded, for there was never going to be a cure for her to retain herself.
Placed upon a shelf, lock and key, hidden away behind devoted reverie,
That perhaps the mistake was not God, but She.
I don't believe in God.
That a being so bright, so powerful, so kind,
Could look upon a poor soul and misplace it.
Could afford to drop one into their place and allow them only suffering to find.
Even I, as comfortable as I am in my body, was made wrong.
My organs twist inside me, they fuse and tangle and break and bleed,
And everyone looks at me and says
"It's not that bad, you're making this worse than it needs to be."
Nevermind that I cannot keep weight on me.
I do not believe in God, and if I did, I would not be able to bring myself to worship.
I would, infact, skip that whole bit-
Skip to yelling and cussing, how dare He,
How dare He do that with His hand!
I do not want to watch the dirt fill over another friend, not when I know He could've done right by Me.
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im just so happy i live in a time period where actual meaningful biological transition is possible. even if we lose rights or the ability to exist in public, nothing can turn back the clock on that, and just by having any sort of access to that our lives are made immensely better. millions of our sisters throughout history would never have dreamed of a day where they could have what HRT does for us.
please don't lose the plot of this. if you're a trans person on HRT you're a living miracle, the dream of hundreds of millions of your ancestors. your lives are all deeply meaningful no matter what anyone says.
Cursed be the one who announced to my father:
“It’s a boy!"...
...How could he twist the course of the stars so much?
How could he have erred so in his astrology?
A lying tongue, a fool’s mouth it had given him
For he foolishly transformed justice to poison
He altered the law and transposed the lines
Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead – a worthy woman...
...I would say "how lucky am I"
Father in heaven
who did miracles for our ancestors with fire and water...
...Who would then transform me from a man to woman?
Were I only to have merited this being so graced by goodness...
What shall I say?
why cry or be bitter?
If my father in heaven has decreed upon me
and has maimed me with an immutable deformity
then I do not wish to remove it.
the sorrow of the impossible is a human pain that nothing will cure
and for which no comfort can be found.
So, I will bear and suffer until I die and wither in the ground.
Since I have learned from our tradition
that we bless both, the good and the bitter
I will bless in a voice hushed and weak:
blessed are you [HaShem] who has not made me a woman.
Those who think that wisdom and whimsy are mutually exclusive have neither. It's vitally important to do the right thing when the consequences are dire, and to do a whole bunch of utterly frivolous silly dumb shit when it doesn't matter what you do.
I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture.
All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line?
The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy?
Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess.
I want the fat left it.
I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence.
Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."
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three person poly relationship made up of two people who are already dating trying to coax someone with horrific self worth issues into a loving relationship. stray cat style
they’re all laying together in bed and the couple are both thinking to themselves like good, he stayed the night to cuddle and talk when we offered, he should know that we genuinely care for him and want this to be more then a handful of one night stands. and the stray cat guy is like wow this sure is nice i think i’m falling in love with them. it’s really too bad that they don’t actually give a fuck and hate me and probably want to kill me with hammers for no reason
Im listening to a podcast ep about AI usage and the guest is saying he completely understands why people refuse to use it out of fear because he shares the same fears, and it's just so weird to me that it's never ever acknowledged that some people don't use it not because they're afraid but because it just holds no appeal. There are things I'm sure learning models are very useful for but none of them have anything to do with me. Yes I'm a bit of a ludite but I completely failed to resist the lure of the phone, or social media, I've never used chatgpt because I have just never wanted to. I feel like the entire debate is instantly reframed once you acknowledge that it's not a necessary service that people either work to resist or avoid out of fear. For most people it's just an online tool, and for me and I know for lots of others too it's just not that important.
It's not that interesting or useful to me, it's holds no appeal, I am resisting nothing. I could already do everything I wanted I don't need a new tool. It really is that simple and I would feel this way even if it wasn't worrying and evil in various ways. We HAVE to resist this narrative that AI is everywhere because people want it, because it's necessary, because it's an improvement, because people can't live without it. AI is everywhere because tech CEOs and investors want to make something from their massive investments. It is incredibly resistable to me. Just don't have an interest in it. This needs to be part of the AI conversation if we have any hope of saving ourselves from the data mining clutches of big tech (AI specifics aside)
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