WittyProfileName2 [she/her]

Another unnecessary sequel?

I’m gonna skip this one, let me know when they put Jesus in space, or make him fight Jason Voorhees, or whatever these sortsa franchises do when they run outta ideas.

• Favourites

• artsy (for sorting all the pretentious crap)

And then the rest are sorted via genre tag.

Do murder ghosts or whatever count as dependents?

There’s probably some nightmare tax form for this, isn’t there?

Have a good day, friend

You too, mate.

Ah, you’re right, I see now, boiling down Marxist critique into “can’t control emotions” and “only wants money” while celebrating the individualistic ramblings of a lead-poisoned imperial despot, is a much more rational outlook.

Systemic issues aren’t real, you just gotta stop thinking bad thoughts and suddenly the crushing oppression that Aurelius was writing in defense of don’t matter.

“Hmm, why would man sitting on the top of an inherently unjust system preach complacency with said system as a virtue? Must be because he’s super rational and smart.”

• you, somehow still on that slave mentality in the 21st century.

And getting offended by it really isn’t helping your case here.

Yes, rush to the defence of misgendering, that’ll show us uppity transgenders. /s

It’s a split between two things:

Firstly, I finally got my degree. People in my immediate surroundings got tired of the confirmed bachelor jokes after the first week of me making them.

And secondly, after a year and a half of waiting I got to talk to a gender service doctor back in February. Now I’m well on the way to get the bureaucracy part of my transition out of the way. And I’ll be getting my hormones soon.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and then try to envision everything my body just did to take that breath.

The intercostal muscles expanding an’ the diaphragm contracting to make a vacuum in the thoracic cavity.

The air rushing down my trachea, into my bronchus, then into the bronchioles.

The alveoli swelling individually as the air fills 'em.

My lungs filling the vacuum that the muscles created.

It’s a lot of things to keep ahold of all at once, so there ain’t the space in my mind to keep thinking of what annoyed me (until some daft bastard goes and does it again mind you).

I operate on the assumption that the overwhelming majority of people are nice, though I’ve run into more than my fair share of strangers that are complete dickheads. It feels like I’ve run into way more people who treat me kindly than cruelly (but that just be my own biases affecting my recollection).

Problem is, interacting with other people is tiring and after a long day I just want to curl up and stop existing but people waiting for the bus want to chat and strangers stop me in the street to make small talk.

Was added (yesterday I think), so now you can!

Might suffice.

Allegedly, when William the Conqueror first landed in England he tripped in the sand.

I’d’ve left a land mine where he was going to fall, turning the future king of England into a fine mist and a scattering of viscera.

Probably Sound of Thunder meself out of existence, but it’d be worth for the immediate chaos it would cause.

19/24, mostly by luck than knowledge of LOTR.

• the cape sundew I keep on my windowsill. As someone with a lot of house plants, it has been a godsend for keeping flies and other pests out of the house.

• my first aid kit. You never want to need one of these, but I’ve been glad to have it close to hand a fair few times

I don’t know how you walked away from The Shape of Water with such a shallow reading, but eh, not everyone’s taste in films is the same.

I have a great dislike for the sorts of horror films where horror is conveyed entirely by long drawn out tension into a jumpscare. It bores me and then I stop caring about what’s going on in the film. The Woman in Black is one that immediately springs to my mind, ironically because of how bland I thought it was. It’s what you’d get if you told chatGPT to write the script for a horror movie. Just a bloke stumbling 'round a house at night being scared by random shit punctuated by daytime exposition scenes. I know it was trying to trying to say something about grief but I just couldn’t care enough about it after the spooky violin lead up to the protagonist being startled by a tap making a loud noise when he turned it on.

Y’know, I’ve never thought about that before.

I guess, I would.

• Eager to discuss the cool things they’ve read.

• Able to make me laugh.

• Cleans up after themselves (I know, low bar).

• Communist of some stripe.

Superficial but:

• Physically stronger than me.

For what it’s worth, I do find this somewhat reassuring.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get to where you are, but to hear that it could get better does make me feel a little less shitty.

Thank you.

I might have to try that, thank you.