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sometimes i have a dream that reveals such a humiliating desire i have that i genuinely lose a bit of respect for myself

keep thinking about how I wrote in my dissertation about how every time a new form of public/social space emerges it's immediately popular with kids and teenagers who see it as a chance at freedom and then adults colonise it and kick them out. this happened with malls in the 80s and diners in the 50s and pool halls in the 20s. my dad was doing research on this trend in like 1975. and I was like "yeah so this is going to happen to the internet" and then five years later every government suddenly decided to ban kids from everywhere online. I hate being right especially when I don't even get paid for it

as much as I would love for y'all to read my dissertation it would obviously doxx me to post the link/title here, so I probably won't share (unless a longtime mutual messages privately about it). BUT what I can do is tell you about my academic idols - Henry Jenkins, Mimi Ito, and danah boyd - and tell you to go read their stuff, starting with a book they co-wrote called Participatory Culture in a Networked Era

Whitaker is easily liked because he’s compliant. Santos isn’t easily liked because she’s defiant. The most well liked person in the room caring about the most “difficult” person to like as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. Everyone looking at him as if he were a saint for withstanding her, when to him she is his savior. Literally the most important platonic relationship on screen right now for me. Don’t look at me.

Trinity Santos walks into the Pitt everyday with a bucket of unresolved trauma, a toxic yuri situationship, and Dennis Whitaker hanging off her belt like a labubu and still manages to serve cunt

Somebody in head-to-toe temu mall goth gear is standing in front of a wrinkled pride flag and doing bad ass poses into the camera with a plastic toy gun they are pretending is real, posting the photographs on Tumblr dot com. The post has sixty thousand notes and everybody thinks this is for real, actually, unironically bad ass. 1200 replies believe the plastic gun held together with screws is real and half of them are begging the poster to erotically execute them through latently-ironic meme phrases. They are all 25-35 years old. The OP is an American and it would have been cheaper to buy a real gun.

It makes me feel like an insane cave-dwelling salamander man. It's all just empty symbols. It's all just gesturing towards ideas that only exist in the data center between the poster and the viewer. Everybody styles the same cheap crap in the same way to check the box on a commodified identity. Even the actual aesthetic property of the fashion is secondary to the performance of aesthetic. The function is to be itemized as this commodified identity more than living through its aspects. It's all social marketing, not conversation. And it works. It drowns out anyone who actually gives a shit about any of these things they're aping. I feel like I take these things too seriously and I'm making myself weirder by thinking about it so much, but I've realized authenticity is ultimately the only thing worth caring bout. Our present cultural landscape, because of how high-volume social media functions, is outright opposed to authenticity. All of this, the amount of social reward for this kind of empty performance, the amount of individual demand created for it by our media environment, is the atomized form of it. I'm going crazy. Does anyone actually do anything cool anymore?

sometimes the only explanation for what just happened is sex like it wasnt sex but narratively they just fucked we all saw it

its pretty simple all you need is a fuckbuddy a better job a good therapist welbutrin clothes made from high quality natural fibers a good diet lots of water a social network a supportive family a fulfilling hobby a comfortable bed two hundred dollar leather shoes sun exposure (but not too much) a silk pillowcase a workout routine an education rich parents a 401k a trip abroad a plan for the future a short commute no debt a hair stylist you trust white teeth no roommates wool socks a costco membership good insurance a screentime limiter clear skin a healthy sleep schedule and a blunt!

I feel like people see me as a dog they wish they could put down (remembers we’re supposed to be over the dog motif) i feel like someone’s hamster that’ll be flushed down the toilet

resting my chin on ur thigh and looking up at you like a pathetic dog btw

Guy who never feels like his problems are “bad enough” to be taken seriously: what if I hurt the character so horrifically that everyone around them could not possibly deny the severity of their pain even if the character themself tries to downplay it.

There should be more hours in between midnight and 5 am because I am a night owl and also an early riser morning enjoyer and I need 8 to 10 hours of sleep also

hey where’s that post about how it’s important to be aware before recommending/calling suicide hotlines that They Will Call The Cops On You. i have it saved somewhere but i can’t find it & i want to reblog it today For No Particular Reason