oh night divined, oh night defiled
"glory" to the new born king
the fire is slowly dying, but my dear, we're not goodbyeing
let it snow, let this season be merry and light
We know they won't give us peace tomorrow
I don't think individuals ever really "get" how to interact with hiveminds, at least not tactically. I think it's something about how they perceive the connection between the bodies.
I have a couple of Christmas/Holiday related poems to work my way through, but I still feel like I should share them. Even if it is a bit late. Plus I enjoy it more than thinking about the actual upcoming holiday.
It is a truth universally acknowledged (by trannies) that a newly hatched trans girl will be in need of some fucking affirmations.
When one's gender progression involves becoming what they were denied for so long, the most common step is, unfortunately, to jump right into the shape society has shown them women ideally occupy. Rather than parsing out what shape works best for the individual girl.
I came away from the experience refreshed, reinvigorated to interact with, for lack of a better word in the moment, good media. Media that is saying something, even if that something is as simple as monarchs are bad and dragons are cool.
That's not all there is to Vyria Durav's The Dragon and Her Princess, though those elements are certainly present. It's a short enough story that I do fear my overly verbose style will drive me to spoil it, so let me attempt brevity.
There's a non-zero chance I read too much this weekend.
Maybe that's the wrong way of framing it.
This last week was horrible. If you're trans or a member of any of the other groups conservatives are scapegoating you know what I mean, and for the rest of you... Well, you're reading my work, so you're probably "aware" even if you can't ever walk a mile in our shoes, not really anyway. But last week also included major personal strife as well.
I'd like to think we've all experienced this; you do something and the second anyone else sees and doesn't love it immediately, you start questioning if it was good, or even worth the time and effort. There's almost a desire to delete or unmake it.
My brain is evil.
Ok, that’s maybe a bit harsh, and every mental health professional will tell you to avoid self deprecation even in jest as it still reinforces negative self perception. But, frankly, most of them don’t live with BPD.
Remember how I said I’ve been writing, especially but not limited to poetry?
Well, here. I’ve been toying with this one for a minute and it finally felt like I got it locked in this morning.
I’ll be honest, this was a long time coming. If the increasingly inconsistent content over the past few years hadn’t made it abundantly clear, nor the functional hiatus since August, I haven’t been enjoying my work a lot. So it feels right to open with this picture, taken as I realized I’d just made it as far as I was being allowed to go.