i dream of being possible

<-- home


not entirely sure how many people will have noticed but… yeah. i’m using wordpress again. part of this was motivated by a desire to have my books on sale via my own site (not just biyuti publishing — especially since my anthology/compilation books of blog posts aren’t going to be listed on the main biyuti publishing website anymore).

i also switched for other, more technical reasons that i won’t bore anyone with at the moment.

people will notice that (at least for the past few days) i’ve been posting short commentaries on news stories. i’m not entirely sure i’m going to keep doing this while i take a break from @girlslikeusnews but… idk. i’m guess stuff like that would more properly go onto tumblr, if it weren’t for the fact that i’m on a super old netbook with a low resolution and tumblr’s bookmarklet won’t allow me to resize the window…

but. another part is that i simply don’t use tumblr as often and in the same way that i used to. my ‘microblogging’ mostly happens on twitter now. my long-form blogging has always/mostly been something that originates in this space and gets crossposted elsewhere. i also don’t socialize/interact as much with people on tumblr (or anywhere else, as it happens).

part of why my tumblr usage has changed so much is because xkit is weird and wonky for me and won’t let me reply to replies. also i find myself entirely lacking the energy and motivation to engage a lot of people and their asinine comments on my posts.

(like if one more fucking person responds to my ‘trans women aren’t privileged for having penises’ post with a ‘lol, what about peeing standing up’… i’ll fucking scream. peeing standing up causes dysphoria for a bunch of trans women. and those of us who are fine with it usually need to pee sitting down in public washrooms because otherwise we’ll mark ourselves as Other in the washroom and probably get violently attacked. like for fuck’s sake, i’ve heard of trans women trying to figure out ways to emulate the same ‘pee sound’ that cis women make. so fuck off with ur fucking clever comments since u clearly don’t understand what it is like to be a trans woman with a penis and how fucking dangerous it is)

i also continue to struggle with severe depression. so. like. i’ve been spending a lot of time just lying around in bed without the desire or motivation to write longer posts or engage ppl. and yeah, to a certain extent i’ve probably been self-isolating from friends and acquaintances… i’ve also been trying to work on my books and writing and stuff.

i have stuff happening in irl that has been… very consuming and stressful and draining and fucking awful and it isn’t something i can talk about here or (it feels) anywhere. like… i also realized just how delirious and reckless i was during the worst of the neuroleptic malignant syndrome bc i’m see how close i was to tying this pseudonym to my irl identity and that would’ve been dangerous and unsafe (i have a longer blog post somewhere in me about how online activism — whatever you want to call it — can be dangerous when/if tied to your irl identity and reasons for why the protection might be necessary for you)

a few other recent events are making me re-confirm my desire to stay far far far away from activism(tm). enough so that i turned down a paying speaking gig bc i can’t handle the stress/anxiety of doing something so public and being exposed/vulnerable like that in a world and context that is so little invested in my safety and health.

in another sense, i enjoy the certain level of freedom to express myself that being pseudonymous provides me.

bc we should and totally be clear and understand that marginalized ppl can and will be punished for the things we say. regardless of whether or not it is off or online.

we live in a world that has a vested interest in making sure we shut the fuck up and are silenced. and i’m not even Black which absolutely compounds and intensifies everything i’m talking about here.

i’m also remembering that, yeah, i totally just want to think and write and NOT get entangled in all the rest.

(i can’t remember anymore what i wanted to actually write here was… so. i’ll just stop)