pol4roidkid

[pol4roidkid]

im so dramatic jesus

[pol4roidkid]

when i read literature or listen to songs about the plight of being a mad woman, rage is often the first feeling. Then vindication, a moment of feeling substantiated. it feels deep and bigger than me yet about me, a woman, and for that reason I am then eventually excited that this media exists, rage forgotten. it always seems like such a marvelous subject to write about for others to consume. i feel raised up by these narratives, sometimes even superior for reading them. i have then, to an extent, forgotten about the suffering that was endured for those stories and their ensuing analyses to exist. that in an ideal world, even though this content is revealing something true, if everything was good and kind, this content would not exist. it isn’t fun to consume. its saddening and miserable and disappointing. and it is not a fun thing to be aware of, how people respond to and treat mad women, once you experience it in your own reality. ive been crying all day and felt sensitive to every word that comes at me. all of it feels like weaponry, part of a well assembled attack, and its because i’ve convinced myself im the weakest person i know- why wouldn’t someone want to attack a pathetic thing like that? even still, i am trying, and that trying has gotten me to this point, but this point is not enough for the people who wish to be around me. i become unlikable and bitter. nothing i say is ‘right’ even when it feels right to me, because i’m not working properly. i’m so tired. i just don’t want to feel alone in any of this anymore. let me be broken without reminding me of it and instead secretly put me back together, until i look around and realize i am whole. i would do anything to not feel ashamed of how sad i am, but validated. i have the right to be sad- everything is so terrible. where is that person? i ache for them. i have no motivation or ability to repair myself on my own. 

[pol4roidkid]

feeling such a strange need to loathe the person i was only four inconsequential years ago. just the mere thought about the way i was living my life then conjures up this terrible shame and an urge to shudder and i really hate that about me- i cannot even begin to feel bad for that version of myself dealing with mistreatment and abuse and would rather cringe at them for having the nerve to exist in the first place. that just makes me so sad. why cant i feel bad for myself? i was so little. i was so scared. everything and everyone terrified me and i was petrified that if anyone saw even an inkling of the ‘truth’ of who i was that they would despise me. i hid behind silence and wigs and baggy clothes and smoking and i had no fucking friends. no friends! and when i think about that girl, i tell myself, honest to god if i knew her now i probably wouldn’t want to be her friend either just based off first impression. isn’t that awful? that even i wouldn’t give the old me a chance to show her true personality?

[pol4roidkid]

feeling very abandoned. trying to decide if that is a product of my own self hatred or a reality i need to honor and punish people for

[pol4roidkid]

i feel like its all happening again. slipping away from my confidence in myself. i feel identity-less and my thoughts arent consumed with ideas about things i believe or like or am curious about. rather i obsess over the moments ive meticulously filed away for withdrawal and review, instances where i believe someone has let it slip that theyve begun to tire of me. i am feeling so miserable and lonely and cannot speak of it with the person i wish to speak to most. im so sad. im so sad and alone and devastated and i wish that meant something to anyone in the way that i crave for it to. i know this is selfish and if ive decided the kind of affection i want rather than accepting the effort itself i will always be disappointed. but knowing this changes nothing. i feel like a beggar once again, a troubadour spinning out every trick i can to fool someone into accidentally displaying love for me. so i can convince myself that its there, that it was just hidden because my lover is shy, or private. i feel so incredibly attracted to dying if only because it is a guaranteed event in garnering sympathy, attention, reverence. i am so ashamed.

[pol4roidkid]

i must stop assigning value onto the perception of myself held by others. ‘if they think this about me it must be true’- that is not how truths works. and people inform their opinions with the influence of an entire lifetime catalog of prejudice, projection, and insecurity. it does not have to reveal something terrible about me. more often, it might reveal something terrible about them. i need to remember this and i need to let myself be. i do not need to answer for things i know i am not. 

[pol4roidkid]

every word i say feels like setting myself up for being attacked. i have associated doubt so intimately with my identity that i’m now preparing myself to be wrong only because the idea i’m speaking about originated from me.

[pol4roidkid]

i used to find so much peace in calming down. it was never a reason to feel like i was being stepped on. now i’ve learned to suppress my anger so often that even the mere thought of beginning to ‘calm’ myself starts to fill me with resentment. i’m tired of being this way and i really don’t think i can talk about these things with anyone except myself. at the same time, hiding these sentiments in my notes app is beginning to feel like just another form of suppression. it is so much less cathartic than a diary- it still feels too much like hiding. but saying things like this on instagram, or twitter, is altogether too visible. i forgot how private you could be on here while riding on the thrill of posting your deepest thoughts on the internet. 

[pol4roidkid]

[pol4roidkid]

I don’t want to get over you, 2000, Wolfgang Tillmans

[pol4roidkid]

[pol4roidkid]

Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet (1996)

[pol4roidkid]

[pol4roidkid]

It’s the Year of the Cow! May you find peace this year 🌟

[pol4roidkid]

nikolai tarkhov, by the cradle (1908) / soracities / azerbaijani lullaby (short animation) / the universal language of lullabies / ocean vuong, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous

[pol4roidkid]

why are we pretending women are ever shamed for liking men. go outside promise that tired bisexuality discourse only exists on the internet

I really wish the bi narrative wasn’t so heavy on “I like girls and two boys” like not only is that primarily a woman-centered experience (like…it rly pushes the already existing idea that only women can be bi) but also like. I like most men and only some women. I’m still bi. I just feel like I’m not included in bisexuality a lot because people make jokes abt how men aren’t prominent in their attraction, which is fine for u I guess, but not everyone’s experience.

TLDR stop shaming ppl who primarily like men.

[pol4roidkid]

Silly Symphony - King Neptune directed by Burt Gillett, 1932