down my arms, thousand satellites
suddenly discover the signs of life (x)
it's my baby's @laniardraws birthday, so I whipped out my tranquil feelings and drew our hc where maddox cuts red lyrium crystals out of samson's skin
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'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.
I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.
About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'
-Casey Plett, Consciousness
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been reflecting on 2023 (good riddance) and can I just say for the record that the single most unexpected thing that happened to me was becoming such a major adrino stan. january 2023 I was writing lovesquare fics and just look at me now
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people think i'm "rude" for being too blunt/too honest but if i took some kind of uncontrollable truth-telling serum i would be actually suicide-inducingly horrible to be around. i'm honest but trust that i take care to be much more polite, fair, and controlled at most times than I want to. you could not take 5 minutes of me blurting out everything that goes on in my brain in gruesome detail, especially pertaining to You specifically. kindness and courtesy are neither a weakness nor proof of some inherent purity. they are a bore of a chore. and while it is an incredibly irritating chore it is required in order to exist (less) hassled by society.
idk. it's truly annoying to spend much effort and energy on all of everything alone. and after accepting no help will come your way, no ackmowledgement or reward for your work comes either. and not only. instead comes punishment. punishment for the grave sin of not being good enough at pretending like i love small talk and not being good enough at kissing ass and not being good enough at neither keeping my head down and doing nothing nor making waves. not being good enough no matter which way you turn, what weight you pull, how much pain you opt to ignore in favour of pushing onward. there is no prize, no safe space, there is only the anger in the meaningless and base fight to survive. hatred, death, despair, the deep wells of agony. and within it all a part of you screams itself hoarse and then quiet to break the dam. at such high capacity, it doesnt matter of its toxic sludge or just water. "just water" kills everything in its path. tsunamis, typhoons, tropical storms, rainstorms, deadly hail... a little bit builds up and in the right place it can be cried out, or redirected, or simply evaporate in the warm, kind, invigorating rays of the sun. but what then if there is no place for that kind of thing. you are the river above a city and you grow and you grow and come the next storm you may just flatten it all to nothing with everyone inside. the dam allows no space to move or grow smaller. you grow so big you don't know if it's even a river anymore. what you are is some strange unnatural body with a riptide so intense it rivals the wildest ocean tides.
i remember the time i almost got swallowed by a storm riptide clearly. it took just a touch of the water and i am being pulled by a force stronger than anything i have felt before or again, something wild and so much bigger. a storm that no longer wants or has any purpose or even one clear cause... without reason, it doesn't *want* to destroy ships and tug people to their crushed deaths. no. it just-- will. it will do that. it has no will but it will kill you. it will destroy everything. what a beautiful terror. but why in me. tugging tugging tugging. sometimes i wish my weak little kid body got seized by the riptide and that i could not break free at all. that would be an epic death.
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not 2 overshare with u all but. can i get an amen for antidepressants. after being back on them for a bit mine finally kicked in yesterday and i spent three hours playing card games, seeing a play, watching the sun set, and talking happily the whole time. the week previous i was on the verge of crying at most times of the day, every day. today i hung out with four (four!) friends and made plans to see them again, this week. when two weeks ago i couldn't hang out with half that amount of friends for half that amount of time without feeling completely empty. so, things can get better, i guess. just in case you were wondering.
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praying the Indian food i'm having for dinner tonight cures my pms
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Besides Krel being able to whip up a machine that can nullify the power of gods, the other thing in TOA supporting the idea that magic = advanced science is the fact that Merlin understood he could use a microwave to create the cradle stone after brief exposure to said appliance and without a detailed explanation of the technology behind it. Unless there was some overlap between microwaves and whatever process he'd have normally used to create a crystal, I don't think he would have grasped the microwave's potential so quickly.
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