biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:21 AM]
i should stop pretending to be aloof and disaffected
biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:21 AM]
thats like not how i feel about anything ever
biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:21 AM]
i feel like if i was authentically true to myself and my own feelings i would be way dorkier and needier and sweeter
biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:22 AM]
i should just let people talk to me whenever they want
biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:22 AM]
i want to be open souled because i am realizing i might actually be sort of an extrovert sometimes
biddy fox, [May 28, 2026 at 2:24 AM]
it might feel good not to lie
summertime!
May. 22nd, 2026 06:45 pmI went on bluesky for 5 seconds and had to log off. I wonder when everyone will figure out that posting doesn't actually help anyone or change anything. It just makes people mad. I had a close friend cut all contact with me a couple months ago because it simply did not follow to her that somebody could be out of touch with Bluesky's latest drama without actively being a useful idiot or transphobe. Later i apologized to her and tried to make amends but my apology was apparently not specific enough: again, my detachment from social media is seen by this kind of user as a personal failure. It seems like an extreme example but I just wonder what it is that makes people think that's productive. There's this urban myth that anger is productive. It's not, it's paralyzing; and even if you attempt to draw on it for energy it's fickle. Plus if you're drawing on your anger at your condition and your condition improves there's a pretty good chance you're just gonna lose focus on what once made you so angry. This is why you need to have critical and personal principles instead of operating emotionally. Your physical desires are more temporary than your cerebral ones; when the former is satisfied, the latter remains. I dunno. It's almost summer. That might even be fun.
someday my old friend will realize her political larping was merely the impotent rage of a failure. That she was, indeed, not actually angry at the political injustice of the world, but simply lonely and sad and too self-absorbed to ever listen to anybody else. And that all she actually wanted was not change or activism or a new political wave. It was to get to watch a pink pony show for babies and finally feel like *part of anything again.* i'd like to ask her then: Was it worth it? Now that your quest for comfort at the expense of everyone else has cost you so many of your friends? Like the bullying? Yes, the bullying, the nonsensical cruelty, the way you used me as an outlet for all your rage and fear of the world such that you would not be required to engage with me as somebody more politically astute than you. yes me. its not egotistical to say. see I'd *put the fucking time and effort in.* you just thought you were an expert cus you saw some tumblr posts and thought a bunch of fucking thoughts. oh yes to yourself while sitting on your DIY chair and playing with your eurorack your fucking Scandanavian social democrat welfare state bought you and that you barely know how to use because you think you're too much of an autodidact to have to learn theory... and so you didn't have to learn to read big words or appreciate poetry or listen to anyone ever. it's all just your genius, which is all you or anyone needs, and frankly it's my fault for simply not parroting all of your views you made up in your head and never really questioned, instead of having different ones... are you ready to say sorry? Are you? cuz i'm ready to hear it. i'm no villain, i never meant you any ill, i still don't, but you picked fights with me to work through your own shit, and i know i was always a disposable rhetorical tool to you, but i'd at least like you to pretend to think of me as somebody who lives and breathes just like you.
deactivated bluesky
Apr. 2nd, 2026 02:22 pmAs you all are aware I am a disgustingly weak person both physically and psychically and like most weak people I shiver daily with anger which can never be expressed. In this regard I'm the target audience for social media. If you're looking for my bluesky and can't find it- here's why.
Today I yelled at someone on the internet about nothing. I wasn't even really yelling at them. I didn't know them. I had something like 800 followers on bluesky which was really weird because I didn't know any of them. Most days my only interpersonal contact is DMs with three people. I am not a social person in the slightest. But homo sapiens are social animals, and while I am not a social person I am a social animal. Burning in the back of my brain was the obvious question: "who are these people?" I still don't know. They'd reply to me and talk to me as if they knew me and I knew them. For all I know I did and they did; it's rare that I remember such a thing without being reminded. But there is also a level of paranoia that maybe there's some other biddyfox out there making friends that people have mistaken me for. I don't know myself. I don't know myself enough to know. And that's the problem with social media for me.
Man it used to be that "fuck off" was the default response to any stranger on social media. Maybe just in my circles, maybe just cus I used to be a furry, but I kinda learned to expect it, y'know? The Internet was where you went to escape the social contract of kindness, politeness, tact -- which is why only dipshits and weird antisocial artists used it.
Now the internet is all just Facebook. It's your life man. It's the world. The online world is THE world. But I'm still the kind of person to tell a stranger to fuck off instead of humoring them when they try and have a conversation with me. I don't think I want to be that person? (Need to think more about this.)
If I was my younger self, unburdened by my history of being deeply hurt repeatedly by people on the Internet, I would want to accept every one of those people with open arms. "Of course you strangers are my friends. I want everyone to be my friend." It's childish, sure, but I don't want to avoid childishness. Time has made me defensive though. The things that have happened to me have made me weak and full of anger. I used to be strong. I miss it. I used to be strong enough to be an open book, to let everybody in.
I got hurt that way. Now I have to be a hermit or I go crazy. I'm sorry everybody. I tried really hard. I wanted to see somebody like I used to be. I wanted to see them and open my arms and let them in and let them feel safe and welcomed where I never did. But I can't I just can't. I am too wretched.
posthuman? or subhuman?
Dec. 17th, 2025 01:28 am its sort of hard to accept oneself when every day they are made aware of the ways in which they fundamentally differ from the like norms and standards of the vast majority of people ... so i am reluctant to refer to myself as human. i feel i am missing too many of the key attributes. i have always felt this way ... nothing about the way that I am is normal or acceptable, but what am I to do about it? I tried to force myself normal and it just made me stranger ... and almost, it feels as though there is no moral weight to hurting me, as if I am a mosquito, as if the sound of my wings alone activates subconscious self-defense responses ... to accept myself is to accept that the very act of being makes people squirm in their seats. people say it to my face... the funniest part is that this conversation is literally always exactly the same every time I open up about something like this it goes like this:
"i don't experience this thing most people consider 'normal'"
Q: well here's what it is...
A: I know that already
Q: so you understand what it is!
A: I said I don't experience it not that I don't know what it is
Q: look, here's you experiencing it!
A: I am pretending so that people don't think i'm a fucking crazy person for not experiencing it
Q: why did you lie to me?
A: so that this conversation would not happen before you actually knew who i was, ensuring you would put me in an "inhuman" box where sympathy and empathy are not extended to me
... i just don't experience 'basic human things' like romance or humor ... I know you hear that and you think it's soooo sad but like that doesn't change the fact that I AM THIS and there isn't shit you or me can do about it ... so you might as well shut up and get over the fact that I am autistic in ways that aren't easy to turn into content, into a fashion statement, into a political tool, into a sexual object, into an aesthetic ... and every time i have this exact same conversation every time i feel less like a complete human being when previously before i had been perfectly content in myself and my life ... its just like a fun little reminder that OH YEAH I'VE GOT A FUCKED UP BRAIN OH GREAT...
i dont really get to get mad about this ... im always the unreasonable one ... and like its fair who am i to get mad when people dont understand that i lack basic human attributes ... but i still get mad anyway ... and i dont know what to do with it... BUT I NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN YOU MOTHERFUCKERS
i dont really get to get mad about this ... im always the unreasonable one ... and like its fair who am i to get mad when people dont understand that i lack basic human attributes ... but i still get mad anyway ... and i dont know what to do with it... BUT I NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN YOU MOTHERFUCKERS
My body makes the music not me. Often I dont enjoy the critique of people who know stuff about music. They only repeat what I already know. Art is social. i just don't do it for external validation so i don't engage with the mechanics of external validation. i never received external validation until like 8 years in so i learned not to seek it or need it. my body makes the music not me. i'm not an artist i'm just autistic. the body's dead roadkill meat. the minds the thing that thinks and talks.
the truth is i dont talk about the music i make because it does not interest me in the slightest. i made it for me to listen to. i understand it. i have no interest in explaining it to other people. they can go figure it out themselves. my songs are explained in their entirety within themselves. my songs are explained in their entirety within themselves. no further context is needed. i often dont even make the lyrics public. i am not a special person and neither is my art. if you look in my art for what makes me tick you will find nothing. if you look in me for what makes my art tick you will find nothing. everything is as it seems.
the truth is i dont talk about the music i make because it does not interest me in the slightest. i made it for me to listen to. i understand it. i have no interest in explaining it to other people. they can go figure it out themselves. my songs are explained in their entirety within themselves. my songs are explained in their entirety within themselves. no further context is needed. i often dont even make the lyrics public. i am not a special person and neither is my art. if you look in my art for what makes me tick you will find nothing. if you look in me for what makes my art tick you will find nothing. everything is as it seems.
1:13 AM again
Jul. 8th, 2025 01:13 amJust as I've been asleep all day even when I've been walking and talking and such I've been dreaming too. I find it difficult to stop dreaming when I'm alone, and by choice I am alone almost all the time. and right now I feel divorced like Ben & Jen on Nothing Better. not really like any of the real divorces i've encountered within the history of my family and my friends, which were mostly affairs of paperwork and clinical coldness. I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave, I say, as Jen. I can't my darling I love you so oh oh, says Ben.
the angle that these thoughts take is necessarily interesting, to other people if not to myself. i feel compelled to write as if i am speaking to other people and not myself. and if you are a rare kind of person, people who are not that kind of person and people who are alike will find curiosity in your very existence. it calls for a lot of repetitive self-explanation. i hate doing it. i never asked to be like this. i never asked for all this extra work. call me tomorrow.
one aspect of not knowing you're aromantic for most of your life is you end up stacking up histories upon histories of breakups you have experienced that don't make you feel any particular sense of regret, or nostalgia or whatever. within or without the numbness of depression that's defined my life for the strings of time when i've been off my hormones, I look back upon these past selves without interest or pathos. It is not my place, anyway. I will simply get out of the way of my exes, allowing them to process the end of our relationship however they see fit. literally whatever. I'm not stupid enough to think i'm some big fucking deal. I just like putting stuff on my blog. I also like disco, fetish webcomics, and art made in Microsoft Paint. I don't have to justify the way I live my life.
I've had a few that break the rubric, though; particularly emotionally wrought ones.
I realized just now that none of them are actually different in any significant way from the ones that I don't care or think much about beyond having come at specific times in my life. On a large scale the gaps in my life I was trying to fill with romance were not gaps meant to be filled with romance. Sexual innuendo aside, I do not think I have any gaps that need filling by romance. I have room in my heart for a lot of people, not just one or a few who I structure my life around. I do not want to imagine a future where I do not spend most of my time alone.
But...
But...!
At other times I don't want to imagine a future without certain people. At times I find comfort in the fantasy of a future with certain people.
I assume those are the ones that, should our friendship fall through, I will spend the rest of my life dwelling upon...
the angle that these thoughts take is necessarily interesting, to other people if not to myself. i feel compelled to write as if i am speaking to other people and not myself. and if you are a rare kind of person, people who are not that kind of person and people who are alike will find curiosity in your very existence. it calls for a lot of repetitive self-explanation. i hate doing it. i never asked to be like this. i never asked for all this extra work. call me tomorrow.
one aspect of not knowing you're aromantic for most of your life is you end up stacking up histories upon histories of breakups you have experienced that don't make you feel any particular sense of regret, or nostalgia or whatever. within or without the numbness of depression that's defined my life for the strings of time when i've been off my hormones, I look back upon these past selves without interest or pathos. It is not my place, anyway. I will simply get out of the way of my exes, allowing them to process the end of our relationship however they see fit. literally whatever. I'm not stupid enough to think i'm some big fucking deal. I just like putting stuff on my blog. I also like disco, fetish webcomics, and art made in Microsoft Paint. I don't have to justify the way I live my life.
I've had a few that break the rubric, though; particularly emotionally wrought ones.
I realized just now that none of them are actually different in any significant way from the ones that I don't care or think much about beyond having come at specific times in my life. On a large scale the gaps in my life I was trying to fill with romance were not gaps meant to be filled with romance. Sexual innuendo aside, I do not think I have any gaps that need filling by romance. I have room in my heart for a lot of people, not just one or a few who I structure my life around. I do not want to imagine a future where I do not spend most of my time alone.
But...
But...!
At other times I don't want to imagine a future without certain people. At times I find comfort in the fantasy of a future with certain people.
I assume those are the ones that, should our friendship fall through, I will spend the rest of my life dwelling upon...
you should listen to dub RIGHT NOW
Jan. 9th, 2025 11:16 pmthe rock criticism industrial complex focuses on what is honestly a very restrictive way of thinking about music that is unfortunately the main one taught to people using their music tastes to define their identity especially on the internet
this idea that there are Artists who create Albums. these Artists have a body of work consistent to the Artist. in musicology this is called Rockism because it originates with the 1960s development of rock-as-art, which followed this template, because this is the template so often used, it is extremely hard to escape this hierarchy of artists and albums. which sucks because many genres are entirely outside of it - techno, EDM, dub.
if you asked "what's a good dub album?" your heart would be in the right place, but you would be trying to take the rockist rubric to a genre based around, more than anything, a beat, a pure sound and rhythm. it's a cultural thing, a communal engagement. so you look for artists instead. the way you get "into" dub is that you go on youtube and you search up King Tubbys DJ Mix or like. Best of Lee Scratch Perry.
the first thing you will notice is that all of these songs have different beats, different tempos, but almost-identical basslines and instrumentation... and also an underlying groove that is hypnotic, based around a sort of fractal organization of accents. like a ziggurat, every individual offbeat is emphasized in decreasing order of smallness...
it's like no other music on earth. it's the only music aliens would ever find interesting. enjoy.
this idea that there are Artists who create Albums. these Artists have a body of work consistent to the Artist. in musicology this is called Rockism because it originates with the 1960s development of rock-as-art, which followed this template, because this is the template so often used, it is extremely hard to escape this hierarchy of artists and albums. which sucks because many genres are entirely outside of it - techno, EDM, dub.
if you asked "what's a good dub album?" your heart would be in the right place, but you would be trying to take the rockist rubric to a genre based around, more than anything, a beat, a pure sound and rhythm. it's a cultural thing, a communal engagement. so you look for artists instead. the way you get "into" dub is that you go on youtube and you search up King Tubbys DJ Mix or like. Best of Lee Scratch Perry.
the first thing you will notice is that all of these songs have different beats, different tempos, but almost-identical basslines and instrumentation... and also an underlying groove that is hypnotic, based around a sort of fractal organization of accents. like a ziggurat, every individual offbeat is emphasized in decreasing order of smallness...
- the second half-beat of the 4/4 measure
- the second and fourth quarter-beats of the 4/4 measure
- the second/fourth/sixth/eighth eighth-notes of the 4/4 measure
it's like no other music on earth. it's the only music aliens would ever find interesting. enjoy.
i am happy. i am alive.
Oct. 13th, 2024 06:54 pmi made this blog more than two years ago now, in an attempt to make my life better than it was. i was pretty miserable. i didn't even know if i was a girl anymore. i've spent a lot of my lifetime being miserable. i've spent a lot of my lifetime unsure of whether or not i'm a girl. now i wear tartan skirts and knee high converse. now when a stranger tries to help me they get my attention by yelling "ma'am!"
understand this.
i am happy.
i am alive.
i intend to keep being happy, and keep being alive, for as long as i can sustain it.
i started my skincare routine again this morning.
i bought a ticket to a rave this morning.
i talked to many of the people i love most in the world this morning.
i am gaining weight. i am losing acne. my fat is redistributing. i just switched to patches.
i am going to be okay.
understand this.
i am happy.
i am alive.
i intend to keep being happy, and keep being alive, for as long as i can sustain it.
i started my skincare routine again this morning.
i bought a ticket to a rave this morning.
i talked to many of the people i love most in the world this morning.
i am gaining weight. i am losing acne. my fat is redistributing. i just switched to patches.
i am going to be okay.
seeing glass beach at gramercy theater
Jun. 3rd, 2024 04:02 pmYOUNG SCHOLARS AND WOODLAND CREATURES
april 6th 2024. me and my best friend riley, um, we went to a show in manhattan, this show was in - at the Gramercy Theatre. the performing artist was glass beach, a band of which i've been fond for some time. ive kind of a sentimental attachment to them because a very close old friend introduced me to them and being able to admit that i enjoyed them was an important part of the process of accepting myself. when i was 16, i was a very angry young girl because i was frustrated with myself and everyone else. and glass beach was so earnest that it forced me to confront that, and think about it. it took years and years until i finally confronted it. i thought i wasn't allowed to be the person i wanted to be. but i can admit that now. i couldn't before.
and um, that is the kind of energy that the concert had. um, it was kind of amazing, actually. uh, the gramercy theatre seats about 600 people and the show sold out which made me grateful riley had bought the tickets back in something like, sometime in 2023 like november or october maybe. um, and, uh, somebody outside said, um, something along the lines of "these people all look like exactly the sort of people you would see at a glass beach show, if you imagined in your head listening to their music, what a glass beach fan would look like." um, actually when me and riley uh, when me and riley arrived at the place we arrived about half an hour early, and saw the line, and it was already pretty long, and we got wendys and we went back and the line was even longer, and even though everyone was standing around the TD bank, I realized it was the glass beach line when i saw someone with an aphex twin beanie standing outside, which was pretty funny actually. so, we also walked past niche, um, niche celebrity and creator of bloodborne kart lilith b0tster. who is, ~6 ft tall with bright blue hair and a witch hat, so, hard to miss. it was kind of interesting to see somebody with that distinct of a presence, but to be honest everybody else at that show had a pretty distinct presence, it was just that the one that i recognized was um, b0tster. um... something...
when we got in, uh, two pretty good bands opened for them... there was this sort of jazz rock thing and then there was a pop punk band with a very pretty trans woman as the frontwoman, um, nothing to add there, it was just kind of like, it was the first sign, it was the first thing that made it seem kind of like... that comforting, like, expression of the self, the nature of that, and the fact that there was this very pretty girl and this very amazing singer who felt no need to hide her sort of mid-high tenor, which is an unusual range for a cis woman but pretty common for trans women, and, everything kind of followed from that... what i compared it to afterwards was um, i always think of the internet as a kind of astral plane, and in almost all mythologies that deal with an astral plane tehre is a moment where the astral plane and the physical one meet, and, um, well when i showed up, riley and I were wearing uh, matching hoodies of gir from invader zim, and um, riley had fox ears and a tail on, and not only was that happening, but people kept like pointing it out and saying it was cool, and its just like, this total universe of positive self expression spilling out and becoming one. it's the sort of thing that makes you realize all suddenly, that all of this is real, especially as a trans woman its like, this is real. i really am a woman. im not some cosplayer, not some, like, overoptimistic kid trying to be something she's not. no! i am this thing that i am. and nobody else can do anything about it. and it was so celebratory. and i looked there, and i looked onstage, and classic j has, classic j has, so...
the way this worked was that um, the first two acts had a certain energy, but i wanted to dance, and i wanted to dance to glass beach, so i sat in the bleachers until the glass beach set started, in which case i nodded to riley and waded down into the pit. and i ended up being quite close to the stage, and i saw on the stage that classic j had a plushie of a fox on her keyboard. and the thing that struck me, standing there, dancing my fucking heart out in that pit, was um... people like me matter. people like me and riley matter. people like me and riley can fill up a fucking theatre and get people dancing and get people fucking moshing and get people doing a weird circle thing, in the moshpit, and um, like, some people who looked like their fursonas were there, on and offstage. its the sort of thing that you like you're lonely and youre trans and youre like 16 and you sit and you cant even imagine something so perfect and wonderful. but its real. and this is the real world. and all the shit on the internet doesnt matter.
cuz, yknow there was another thing happening fucking april 5th-6th. it was um. um, me and my band midi bunny, had a callout post written about us by a disgruntled ex coworker. and that was really like fucking my life up for those couple days. i kept waking up cold sweating feeling sick just thinking about that just thinking about like, that is dirt on my name forever now. but like being in a physical place with like, real physical other trans people, and real other physical artists, and like absorbing and channelling that power and optimism and love. makes it seem like none of that drama, none of that shit, none of that fucking PAST that we have to pretend still matters - we don't have to pretend it still matters. it doesn't matter anymore. it doesnt have to and it shouldnt have to. in the end, um, in the end it's like, you cant let anyone fall down. when somebody loses an earring everybody clears the space and turns their flashlights on. the whole idea of being an artist is looking out for each other. its why we all often hold left wing political views. cus, yknow, you gotta work together. that's how you learn to sleep at night
how could i ever sleep at night
my conscience left me petrified
april 6th 2024. me and my best friend riley, um, we went to a show in manhattan, this show was in - at the Gramercy Theatre. the performing artist was glass beach, a band of which i've been fond for some time. ive kind of a sentimental attachment to them because a very close old friend introduced me to them and being able to admit that i enjoyed them was an important part of the process of accepting myself. when i was 16, i was a very angry young girl because i was frustrated with myself and everyone else. and glass beach was so earnest that it forced me to confront that, and think about it. it took years and years until i finally confronted it. i thought i wasn't allowed to be the person i wanted to be. but i can admit that now. i couldn't before.
and um, that is the kind of energy that the concert had. um, it was kind of amazing, actually. uh, the gramercy theatre seats about 600 people and the show sold out which made me grateful riley had bought the tickets back in something like, sometime in 2023 like november or october maybe. um, and, uh, somebody outside said, um, something along the lines of "these people all look like exactly the sort of people you would see at a glass beach show, if you imagined in your head listening to their music, what a glass beach fan would look like." um, actually when me and riley uh, when me and riley arrived at the place we arrived about half an hour early, and saw the line, and it was already pretty long, and we got wendys and we went back and the line was even longer, and even though everyone was standing around the TD bank, I realized it was the glass beach line when i saw someone with an aphex twin beanie standing outside, which was pretty funny actually. so, we also walked past niche, um, niche celebrity and creator of bloodborne kart lilith b0tster. who is, ~6 ft tall with bright blue hair and a witch hat, so, hard to miss. it was kind of interesting to see somebody with that distinct of a presence, but to be honest everybody else at that show had a pretty distinct presence, it was just that the one that i recognized was um, b0tster. um... something...
when we got in, uh, two pretty good bands opened for them... there was this sort of jazz rock thing and then there was a pop punk band with a very pretty trans woman as the frontwoman, um, nothing to add there, it was just kind of like, it was the first sign, it was the first thing that made it seem kind of like... that comforting, like, expression of the self, the nature of that, and the fact that there was this very pretty girl and this very amazing singer who felt no need to hide her sort of mid-high tenor, which is an unusual range for a cis woman but pretty common for trans women, and, everything kind of followed from that... what i compared it to afterwards was um, i always think of the internet as a kind of astral plane, and in almost all mythologies that deal with an astral plane tehre is a moment where the astral plane and the physical one meet, and, um, well when i showed up, riley and I were wearing uh, matching hoodies of gir from invader zim, and um, riley had fox ears and a tail on, and not only was that happening, but people kept like pointing it out and saying it was cool, and its just like, this total universe of positive self expression spilling out and becoming one. it's the sort of thing that makes you realize all suddenly, that all of this is real, especially as a trans woman its like, this is real. i really am a woman. im not some cosplayer, not some, like, overoptimistic kid trying to be something she's not. no! i am this thing that i am. and nobody else can do anything about it. and it was so celebratory. and i looked there, and i looked onstage, and classic j has, classic j has, so...
the way this worked was that um, the first two acts had a certain energy, but i wanted to dance, and i wanted to dance to glass beach, so i sat in the bleachers until the glass beach set started, in which case i nodded to riley and waded down into the pit. and i ended up being quite close to the stage, and i saw on the stage that classic j had a plushie of a fox on her keyboard. and the thing that struck me, standing there, dancing my fucking heart out in that pit, was um... people like me matter. people like me and riley matter. people like me and riley can fill up a fucking theatre and get people dancing and get people fucking moshing and get people doing a weird circle thing, in the moshpit, and um, like, some people who looked like their fursonas were there, on and offstage. its the sort of thing that you like you're lonely and youre trans and youre like 16 and you sit and you cant even imagine something so perfect and wonderful. but its real. and this is the real world. and all the shit on the internet doesnt matter.
cuz, yknow there was another thing happening fucking april 5th-6th. it was um. um, me and my band midi bunny, had a callout post written about us by a disgruntled ex coworker. and that was really like fucking my life up for those couple days. i kept waking up cold sweating feeling sick just thinking about that just thinking about like, that is dirt on my name forever now. but like being in a physical place with like, real physical other trans people, and real other physical artists, and like absorbing and channelling that power and optimism and love. makes it seem like none of that drama, none of that shit, none of that fucking PAST that we have to pretend still matters - we don't have to pretend it still matters. it doesn't matter anymore. it doesnt have to and it shouldnt have to. in the end, um, in the end it's like, you cant let anyone fall down. when somebody loses an earring everybody clears the space and turns their flashlights on. the whole idea of being an artist is looking out for each other. its why we all often hold left wing political views. cus, yknow, you gotta work together. that's how you learn to sleep at night
how could i ever sleep at night
my conscience left me petrified
diary: minus 85 days
May. 28th, 2024 04:35 amtoday i saved a bunch of glitch pop albums to my phone
i listened to one by an artist named boygrrl. it was called cruel angel. inspired by it i made a remix of a song my friend inky sang and my friend cecily wrote
it was rhythmically complex and glitchy in a way cecily asked to apply to more of her songs
the rest of the day was spent rotting
the sun didn't come out
somethingg bad happened to my dog friend but its ok now
i played some minecraft with riley she put on vr
nicole was sad so i called her and made her laugh
i made an account on a forum i wanted to use with dant
mallory was everpresent, comfortingly
i walked outside and stared at the moon. I thought, "I want to go home." I thought of reitz's encounter with diana. I wondered what she felt then, in that moment.
the fragility of my memory was hurting my feelings. i want to remember more about my life. but i remember only what's written down. i confessed my sadness to cecily who suggested i write things down
i listened to one by an artist named boygrrl. it was called cruel angel. inspired by it i made a remix of a song my friend inky sang and my friend cecily wrote
it was rhythmically complex and glitchy in a way cecily asked to apply to more of her songs
the rest of the day was spent rotting
the sun didn't come out
somethingg bad happened to my dog friend but its ok now
i played some minecraft with riley she put on vr
nicole was sad so i called her and made her laugh
i made an account on a forum i wanted to use with dant
mallory was everpresent, comfortingly
i walked outside and stared at the moon. I thought, "I want to go home." I thought of reitz's encounter with diana. I wondered what she felt then, in that moment.
the fragility of my memory was hurting my feelings. i want to remember more about my life. but i remember only what's written down. i confessed my sadness to cecily who suggested i write things down
EVERYTHING SUCKS EXCEPT FRIENDSHIP
May. 27th, 2024 02:40 pmWhats the point of being scared of how bad things are getting all the time i have friends to take care of
Oh yaa the queer community is in permanent self destruct mode annihilating itself over cruel policing and harassment and outright lies. Okay. The world is like being set on fire and no one has money. Okay. What you have to understand is that no matter how bad or how not okay these things are. You are still alive. You still have love to give and share. And though these cruelties matter. we still have this internet to connect with each other.
Aand so like if youre seeing this. And youre thinking like theres nothing for you, its impossible to survive. There will never be another community for you. I dont know. I think better things are possible. I think better things will come. I think there is only so long things being shit for everyone can sustain itself.
It is so tempting to be like no of course everything will be shit forever. It is so actively difficult to hope. You gotta though. If you dont hope you cant rebuild anything from the ashes. If you dont hope we cant build this new community. We can walk away together. Come with me people who had wrong opinions about porn. We can make a place where none of this shit matters. And then in ten years the whole world will act like they were always on our side. and it will be sad and cruel to us. But we will be alive
My discord is![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
biddyfox come by say hello
Oh yaa the queer community is in permanent self destruct mode annihilating itself over cruel policing and harassment and outright lies. Okay. The world is like being set on fire and no one has money. Okay. What you have to understand is that no matter how bad or how not okay these things are. You are still alive. You still have love to give and share. And though these cruelties matter. we still have this internet to connect with each other.
Aand so like if youre seeing this. And youre thinking like theres nothing for you, its impossible to survive. There will never be another community for you. I dont know. I think better things are possible. I think better things will come. I think there is only so long things being shit for everyone can sustain itself.
It is so tempting to be like no of course everything will be shit forever. It is so actively difficult to hope. You gotta though. If you dont hope you cant rebuild anything from the ashes. If you dont hope we cant build this new community. We can walk away together. Come with me people who had wrong opinions about porn. We can make a place where none of this shit matters. And then in ten years the whole world will act like they were always on our side. and it will be sad and cruel to us. But we will be alive
My discord is
biddyfox come by say helloscenesters OR: letter to a harsh critic
Oct. 17th, 2023 02:57 pmforgive the indulgent start, I need to start here or else I won't know where to go:
in 2022 during a part of my life where I thought about killing myself every day I corralled half a million angry thoughts about art into an LP, which was titled "BOYMODERS UNION," a title deliberately meaningless. the art was more deliberate, a cutesy sissy-porn furry positioned in front of ad copy for disposable sex slaves I wrote during a breakdown. I meant to parodize the cliche of (white) Trans Woman Music - loud, poorly mixed amalgams of colonized genres, self-referential and based around idiotic in-jokes (I was thinking of an artist I'd seen around called "DJ Submissive and Breedable") - juxtaposing it with themes of erotic horror and midwest emo. unfortunately I overestimated the amount of attention the average internet user would pay to an album cover or title. people took it as an example of that kind of Ada Rook worship instead of a raging expression of fear. TONY ZARET'D! POE'S LAW'D! whatever.
the value of that particular sentiment is debatable, especially considering how much i obscured this point. RYM user cahcd described it as "a petty and nonsensical thing to get mad at," not inaccurately. it was a manifestation less of specific critique and more a general fear of being left behind by my peers. like sixth grade math class. I ended up being embraced completely by those peers, except in a way that I was disgusted by, because it seemed as though my effort to make a point was being ignored. I was contributing to the thing I hated most. I tried to alienate people, putting deliberately offensive things in the bandcamp description, deleting the album repeatedly. this only made internet randos get even more parasocial about it. I had a (tiny) audience and I hated it. I repressed myself as hard as I could out of spite. I stopped publicly identifying as trans.
i dont think my feelings were unjustified though. just disorganized. after all, a lot of that extremely-online music was shallow and not really built to last. who even remembers giratinightcore: silver, an album barely two years old? shit, who the FUCK remembers boymoders union? (abby does. love you abby.) it is this idea that art is not individual expression but a rapid rush, a mad grab to be a part of something, to participate in something bigger than yourself. and this is the point that boymoders was trying and failing to articulate. cahcd called this "essentially just trying to satirize groups of people who are into certain genres at certain times." this statement was supposed to make the album's concept sound petty and absurd. but that is, accurately, what the record was trying to do! music exists to try to express complex emotions; that was the complex emotional state the album was trying to express.
basically i am deeply uncomfortable with the idea of an art scene. (see: "the republic" from 10 months ago.) I like the idea of hanging out with my friends and doing shit. I hate the idea of that completely performative bullshit of making dariacore or digicore or whatever. I dont think I was doing anything wrong by shit talking it. it's small independent groups of people recreating little microcapitalisms. what the fuck is their problem? my class is over. brb.
in 2022 during a part of my life where I thought about killing myself every day I corralled half a million angry thoughts about art into an LP, which was titled "BOYMODERS UNION," a title deliberately meaningless. the art was more deliberate, a cutesy sissy-porn furry positioned in front of ad copy for disposable sex slaves I wrote during a breakdown. I meant to parodize the cliche of (white) Trans Woman Music - loud, poorly mixed amalgams of colonized genres, self-referential and based around idiotic in-jokes (I was thinking of an artist I'd seen around called "DJ Submissive and Breedable") - juxtaposing it with themes of erotic horror and midwest emo. unfortunately I overestimated the amount of attention the average internet user would pay to an album cover or title. people took it as an example of that kind of Ada Rook worship instead of a raging expression of fear. TONY ZARET'D! POE'S LAW'D! whatever.
the value of that particular sentiment is debatable, especially considering how much i obscured this point. RYM user cahcd described it as "a petty and nonsensical thing to get mad at," not inaccurately. it was a manifestation less of specific critique and more a general fear of being left behind by my peers. like sixth grade math class. I ended up being embraced completely by those peers, except in a way that I was disgusted by, because it seemed as though my effort to make a point was being ignored. I was contributing to the thing I hated most. I tried to alienate people, putting deliberately offensive things in the bandcamp description, deleting the album repeatedly. this only made internet randos get even more parasocial about it. I had a (tiny) audience and I hated it. I repressed myself as hard as I could out of spite. I stopped publicly identifying as trans.
i dont think my feelings were unjustified though. just disorganized. after all, a lot of that extremely-online music was shallow and not really built to last. who even remembers giratinightcore: silver, an album barely two years old? shit, who the FUCK remembers boymoders union? (abby does. love you abby.) it is this idea that art is not individual expression but a rapid rush, a mad grab to be a part of something, to participate in something bigger than yourself. and this is the point that boymoders was trying and failing to articulate. cahcd called this "essentially just trying to satirize groups of people who are into certain genres at certain times." this statement was supposed to make the album's concept sound petty and absurd. but that is, accurately, what the record was trying to do! music exists to try to express complex emotions; that was the complex emotional state the album was trying to express.
basically i am deeply uncomfortable with the idea of an art scene. (see: "the republic" from 10 months ago.) I like the idea of hanging out with my friends and doing shit. I hate the idea of that completely performative bullshit of making dariacore or digicore or whatever. I dont think I was doing anything wrong by shit talking it. it's small independent groups of people recreating little microcapitalisms. what the fuck is their problem? my class is over. brb.
update fall 2023
Sep. 23rd, 2023 01:11 pmgood grief! there's some stupid fucking shit on this blog from this year. this spring and summer were extended lapses of reason; the full premises of my mind had suddenly been unlocked to me, and I picked the worst possible routes through them. I kept going from the kitchen to the living room through the connecting bathroom and not the main hall, stuff like that. purple prose aside, there was a lot of stuff going on that was making me miserable. its gone now. i stopped talking to people who made me feel worthless and horrible for not respecting feelings they would never explain to me. i stopped letting them ignore mine and undermine my sense of self. I've been taking pills that are slowly turning me into the real person and not the shell. none of you motherfuckers will be ready. none of you motherfuckers will EVER be ready.
cw: pet death
( Read more... )
cw: pet death
( Read more... )
I broke my phone again
Apr. 20th, 2023 03:40 pmI dropped it on the floor and now it's always hitting enter. thank goodness, though- the replacement piece I need is only $20. I'm trying to avoid empathic sentiment about how it's the phone that took me to Massachusetts and back. it's just ill. I can heal it. in the meantime I'm on my old iphone. weird how much smoother it runs and how much less capable it is. It doesn't even run my favorite browser.
the ongoing project that this blog represents has entered a new stage. after an event involving my lashing out at somebody because of a baseless delusion I have decided to hire a psychiatrist. this has to come tomorrow, though, cus the ones I have in mind all seem to be open MWF. in the meantime I'll comply with an old tradition of this blog's and celebrate a holiday. Yeah, motherfucker!
the ongoing project that this blog represents has entered a new stage. after an event involving my lashing out at somebody because of a baseless delusion I have decided to hire a psychiatrist. this has to come tomorrow, though, cus the ones I have in mind all seem to be open MWF. in the meantime I'll comply with an old tradition of this blog's and celebrate a holiday. Yeah, motherfucker!
a poem for liz k.
Mar. 20th, 2023 09:56 amthe trains were late this morning. i stood in suffern and basked in shared confusion. a train came upon us and sheltered us, brought us in, and so clambered and shuddered through suffern, ramsey, ramsey, allendale, waldwick, ho-ho-kus, ridgewood half an hour late, but i think i'll make it to school on time anyway. it's not a wicked world. it's hard to feel like it's a wicked world when you look around and see everyone's as pissed that the trains are late as you are, as hungry, as bored. commiseration is consummation. it's a gift between strangers and lovers alike. the twin sister of comedy. understand this.
trains have small souls, like worms, but souls all the same. provide safety and warmth, when their organs function properly anyway. if more people believed this public transit would be better. even the sleepiest, most unaware creatures create love, create joy. I sometimes imagine you feeding me on a train.
trains have small souls, like worms, but souls all the same. provide safety and warmth, when their organs function properly anyway. if more people believed this public transit would be better. even the sleepiest, most unaware creatures create love, create joy. I sometimes imagine you feeding me on a train.
