#Badges don't mean anything and yet they still put so much weight in them like please make up your mind

[silent-aeon]

These are pretty old, but it still stands. It's just a game but playing solo chips away at my soul ;;w;; Unfortunately some matches just send me in a rage (completely a me problem and only in Hunter, I just suck), but I love playing with chill players!

I got sad when playing rank with a friend spooked them (thanks a lot "spectate the pros" message) and am sad it might have made them not wanna play with me anymore.

[trans-cuchulainn]

okay I know it seems like I'm shitposting here and I am, but... I'm also not.

as a trans person I'm finding the online world increasingly stressful to navigate (the real world continues to be exactly as stressful as it always was, but online was MEANT to be better). it feels like everywhere I look there's outrage and violence and the only stories people seem interested in telling about people like me are full of violence of the variety that specifically happens because they're trans (so none of this "well everyone in this book suffers").

and like. I would get it, if they were trans authors. I have written books like that myself, as an act of catharsis, as an act of processing all the bullshit fuckery of this world. I have read books by trans authors that explore transphobia and left me sobbing and hollowed out and yet still felt like a reclamation and an act of validation because ultimately they were about a trans character facing down violence and surviving, not being narratively punished for the act of daring to be trans in a story that didn't want them.

and sometimes, you know, the differences are subtle. there's no checklist: this is okay to write, this isn't, cis people can say x but not y. but there's just something underlying about those stories where you can TELL if the person who wrote them is writing as an act of personal catharsis, digging deep into their own fears and experiences, or if they're doing it as a tearjerker/because they think that's genuinely what all trans narratives are like. and after a while you start to believe that it is, because that fucks you up, never getting to see stories where you just exist. or even just getting to see stories where the violence you face isn't for character development, it's a shitty obstacle that you move past. I'm not even asking for happy stories at this point. I just don't want the crux and turning point of my life to be how others choose to degrade me.

and if it's not shitty ya fiction it's terfs in academia unwilling to find a modicum of human decency, writing letters about how outraged they are about the idea of *gasp* using somebody's correct pronouns. and it's replies on twitter to people who call this out, telling us we're delusional and wrong. and it's queer discourse and exclusionists and everyone who ever makes you doubt if you're even allowed to have community and support. and it's ex-friends where you're never sure why they cut you off but you think it's something to do with your relationship to queerness vs theirs and you know you're better off without someone who thinks you're not "queer" enough when every goddamn day of your life is a battle bc you don't adequately perform gender to anyone's standards, but you still kinda miss them and you wish there was a way you could fix this.

and then you go out into the real world and it's a two year wait for an initial appointment at the GIC and god knows how many years after that before surgery is on the table, and it's being asked why you're in one set of public toilets even while you know you'd never pass well enough to use the other, and it's your family continuing to call you by gendered terms and the wrong pronouns (and being GRATEFUL for that because at least they didn't kick you out or yell at you and you learn to be happy with such small crumbs when you see your friends starving), and it's being terrified every time you go somewhere new because you don't know whether to come out or not, and it's taking off your pronoun pin when you take the bus home, and it's lying on forms you can't fill in honestly and being given a title that isn't yours and answering to the wrong name and endless bureaucratic violence

and I'm just

so goddamn TIRED

and it feels like every time I'm online a weight just settles heavier on my chest, the world screaming at me to stop existing like this. all I want is to exist. all I want is to feel safe. but I'm never safe, because I don't adequately Do Gender the way you want me to do gender. I can be mistaken for a boy and then for a girl, five minutes apart in the same outfit and context, and I have no idea what "gender signals" I'm giving out to give people that impression, so I don't even know what I'd have to do to consistently appear as one thing or another. I can't hide! I can't be anything other than visibly queer! and I want to CELEBRATE that because that's always what I wanted, to be difficult to put in a box, yet these days all I can think about is how dangerous it is, how easily it could be used against me

the world is so much better than it was five years ago. the world is exactly as bad as it was five years ago. the world is more aware of people like me and that means there are more people who know enough about me to hate me.

I am so tired of being afraid.

I am so tired of murdering myself a little every day to avoid it all. of that endless self-violence of swallowing pronouns and names and corrections, of taking off my badges or walking a different route, of deciding CONSTANTLY "this isn't worth the fight we'd have about it", because I know that it doesn't matter what I say, it's never going to change the attitudes of the people around me: it will only make me unsafe.

I'm so tired.

and so, at this point, I just want to lie down in a bog and let it have me. because there's no discourse in the bog. no terfs in the bog. just a stubborn fuck you refusal to disappear: you want my body gone, but my body will STILL BE HERE. my self will still be here. I refuse to decompose under your hatred, to shed my skin and let my bones crumble away until I become what you want me to become. years after your bigotry loses its power, I'll have stuck around. wrinkled, maybe, and tougher than before, but this bog body ain't rotting.

fuck terfs. bog mummies say TRANS RIGHTS