xeroyii

that daughterhood feeling of wanting to blame your mother for how you turned out, wanting to be angry at her for how you’ve inherited her pain and her insecurities, but at the same time wanting to keep coming home to her, out of everyone else in the universe, because you know that if there’s anyone who might be anything like you–if there’s anyone who might even have a clue of what it’s like to be you–it could only be her. and no matter how many times you’ve hurt each other, no matter how difficult it might be to get her to truly see you, you still just want her to love you as you are, to tell you that this isn’t your fault, and to show you that she would keep letting you come home to her.

no because when everything everywhere all at once said “‘alone I’m useless’ ‘everyone’s useless alone. good thing we’re not alone.’” and “in another life, i would have loved to have just done laundry and taxes with you” and “you think i am naive. i’ve been alive just as many years as you. this [love] is how i fight” and “of all the places i could be, I just want to be here with you” and-

everything everywhere all at once is about intergenerational trauma. about depression and passive suicidality and the gravitational appeal of nothingness. about aging, getting older in your twenties and getting older in your fifties. about the specific hurt mothers can cause their daughters and daughters their mothers. about the harsh reality of the immigrant experience and the american dream. but it’s mostly about kindness and family and it’s about choosing to sit at home talking about taxes with someone who loves you, and it’s about telling your daughter that you’d choose her over the entire universe, and it’s about how even in the universes where life didn’t form, love can still exist. and it’s really all of that at once.

"nothing matters so do what you love and be kind" is the single most viscerally impactful message i have ever gleaned from consuming media and i'm going to live every day with that kind of hopepunk nihilism for the rest of my life