covid-related; bad 

just found out that our final semester will conducted online. i don't know why i was hoping against all hope all this time that things would get better and i'd get to go back one last time. now i'm just. sad.

Another genderless insult you can use when you accidentally burn dinner 


scrolling through social media when i should be studying for big upcoming test: season 896246

pers, family (-) 

and tells me it's not a big deal and when i say that it *is* to me, he yells "in that case don't worry me with your problems" so now i just feel like garbage

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pers, family (-) 

so i was telling my father about this because he'll likely have to take me there because i've nowhere to live. he said it was no issue. but i kept venting for a bit about being super worried at this additional complication to what was already the most stressful exam in my *life* and he abrubptly just... *barks* at me to shut up about this

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i have this big competitive exam coming up that i'd given the first choice of centre for as my college's city and not the one i'm currently in because things were really dubious back then so i erred on the side of colleges (and hence hostels) opening up by that time. but now it just turned out that mine won't.

swerfs, OnlyFans, mh-, ranting to the void 

I have this pattern of reading news sites when I'm mh-. Old gf diagnosed this as selfharm years ago, therapists agree she was right, I agree she was right, still find myself doing it.

Take this panic piece about young Latin American girls ‘coming closer to’ prostitution via OnlyFans.

The article beats on the same two emotional notes repeatedly:

1. That the girls are young girls who are girls and young. (Whatever problems OnlyFans may have do not matter for other genders and ages, we must think of the girls. Only.)
2. Is this prostitution?

For point 1, many cherries are picked of girls who wanted to do something else, but the something else wasn't open to them, so they were forced to resort to prostitution. A perfectly reasonable point that, as usual in swerfy discussion, completely fails to address the actual problem, viz. the forcing, obligation to have a job in a post-scarcity world, and instead blame the one job they found to be less terrible. ‘It only brings five dollars, but five dollars is a lot of money there’. They acknowledge the injustice of colonialism, yet they want to remove the source of dollars (if you can earn in dollars in my country your income has increased 50% in 1 year without you doing anything, do you have any idea how lucky we consider those of us who can get their hands on dollars??) instead of abolishing borders.

Yes selling your body for food – not just food, nice clothes, iPhones, whatever dignity one can buy in this broken world – is humiliating and traumatising. Know what’s the standard job for poor, young Latinas? Maid. House slave, look it up, watch ‘The Second Mother’ (2015) great film, 100% how it is. Where I come from everybody with a stable job has a maid washing their bathroom for peanuts, and the daughter of the maid who’s learning to be a maid comes extra cheap. Do you think it’s naïvete that many girls would, taken the choice, prefer selling masturbation clips to gringos to servitude? To a boss on a power trip shouting on their ears as they serve tables? Selling your body for basic necessities is humiliating. That’s not a description of prostitution, that’s a description of capitalism. Sex work goes best when you have a young healthy body, no career prospects and the older you get the harder it is, including finding work in the first place. Unlike being cleaning staff to American fast-food companies?

And then they get sexually abused anyway, because the daughter of the maid, really? Who will stand for poor Latinas? Selling pictures online is risky, many men will try to track you, but it’s about the least risky job I can think of in their condition. This is awful, but the solution is to remove this choice? See how well FOSTA-SESTA went, and that’s in the rich country, that’s in a patriarchy not tinged in our ruthless flavour of everyday violence.

Then there’s the youth thing. Gosh does ageism rile me up. Much of the article is about how the girls came to OnlyFans cause they were ‘talked into’ by their friends, unlike us rational middle-age adults who never jump into a job we hate because it was the last bad option and our personal contacts told us their experiences with it. Young people can’t be trusted to make life decisions, we have pressure them, coax them, ideally remove the options altogether; or they will destroy themselves, this is the gateway into live prostitution, the marijuana of whoring. Surely no young woman would be smart enough to know what she’s getting into, to understand the risks of meeting men IRL behind closed doors, right? Which young Latina has ever experienced what men in patriarchy do.

Which connects to the question interwoven throughout the article, as if it were a profound dilemma: Does this count as prostitution? Never stated out loud but between every line: Is your daughter an online whore? The meaningless of this purely linguistic question, the sterility of terminology, does not ever occur to the writer, because obviously being a whore is very bad because ew. Better invest in that apron instead, these days the trappings of servitude are coming back into fashion among insecure middle-class madames.

How to help those girls? Instead of blaming OnlyFans for the scary p-word, can we blame them for stealing surplus value, like all capitalists do? All OF offers is webhosting and a business face. Provide the girls with distributed, collaborative hosting? Most of OnlyFans profits are from the top 1% creators, what if the cut doesn’t apply uniformly to all girls and end up as yacht money for the owner class, but instead is a progressive cut that feeds back into business costs plus higher paybacks for small creators, in a cöoperative system? ‘It’s hard to setup online cooperatives legally’ – then change *those* laws, instead of trying to ban online sex work and thereby drive online sex workers into worse options, including street-based sex work?

Why do I even read these things >.>

tanith lee's death's master 

all this, and the way that the other protagonists are written, kinda made out the moral code in the book to be beautiful = magical = good in the most bluntest of ways. which i just can't jive with. so. dnf at 65%.

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tanith lee's death's master 

the only other queer character yolsippa. the whole book uses vaguely orientalist tropes, but i felt that it's at its least vague for this one. he's the only major character in the entire book who isn't royalty or demigod or god, and he's written a physically unattractive, cowardly, pickpocketing rogue with a weird attraction to cross-eyed people, played for laughs.

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tanith lee's death's master 

i also hate that the book is very queer but not really. narasen's entire arc is basically her being punished for being gay. simmu transforms to whatever gender that's the “opposite” of their lover's every time; it honestly felt queerbait-y at times, like no romantic/sexual things were possible between two people unless they were “man and woman”. also Simmu's “masculinity” begins to overpower him whenever he's turned on??? wtf was that about? it was so weird

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death's master; rape (in fiction) 

the way that it's written and framed, those rapes being a means to an end, a noble one, for our hero. the fact that the virgins are basically children... they're 16 but they've lived secluded from the world in a semi-drugged state since they were 13, and they're even written like nagging, brainless-beauty-tropes. i didn't find any criticism of the book mentioning this, so ig it's not that big of a deal, but it really made reading the thing a bit of a drag for me.

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thoughts on tanith lee's death's master; rape (in fiction) 

i didn't finish the book and i haven't read a lot of rape in fiction so i don't really know what i'm saying but... i can't wrap my head around exactly what purpose Simmu's rape of the nine virgins served narratively. okay, well, it did “serve a purpose” diegetically, but i don't get why the author chose that arc to resolve the way that it did.

Confessions of a bad immigrant 

I think nobody will dispute it that, if you want to immigrate to another country, you should make an effort to be considerate of the local culture and sensibilities. It's a bit like a relationship: know what you're getting into before committing, be willing to respect their limits.

"Consideration" is such a slippery notion tho. I've been told to not gay kiss or poly kiss because it made people uncomfortable, it's a family environment, think of their feelings. I've seen Japanese homosexual ppl say they had to marry for procreation, for to do otherwise would be a tremendous lack of consideration to their parents, to whose tirelessl hard work they owe their bodies. I've been told not to wear makeup to work, because I had to be professional and respect German cultural norms. By a non-German. No German ever seemed bothered by early transition me wearing concealer, but somehow "being considerate of the local culture" seems to translate so easily to "don't make me uncomfortable by flaunting queerness".

In some countries, everyday cooking is full of spices, with a rich, appetising scent. When they immigrate, some locals will complain of that terrible greasy smell that gets everywhere. Maybe they'll refuse rent to ppl from those countries. In the country of origin the smell get everywhere too, but there it was just a fact of life, nobody paid any mind, nobody blamed their neighbours for it. In the host country, it's inconsiderate.

I imagine what it feels to those immigrants. Either resign yourself to eating what must feel like the most boring, cardboard nothing food every meal, day at day. Or fail to prove that you deserve to live in the rich country. Taint the reputation of all your countrypeople. Fail to show that you assimilated, get booted right back into whatever terrible conditions you were fleeing from. ("If it's so terrible there you can get by without the spices". Yes you can. But should you have to choose?)

I'm being roundabout, even here, afraid of being one of the bad ones. I'm lying, I don't have to imagine how they feel, I know. You _will_ be assimilated. When the choice is deportation or assimilation, well, resistance is futile.

But what really gets to me, what really gets to me, is not being allowed to express sadness about it. The taboo on criticising host country. "If you complain so much why do you want to live here."

I want to live here, and I want to complain so much, complain about things that make me sad about living here. Germany will be fine. I'm not going to change anything, I don't hold any power in our relationship, I have to be a model citizen or else. But I will grant myself the right to vent to the void how I really feel.

It's past 1am and I am crying, a lot. I'm crying about things that most Germans won't empathise with, things they'd frown upon on their neighbours. Things related to overwhelmingly negative opinions about third-world, non-EU immigrants in polls, looming under outwardly liberal attitudes and a generally respectful treatment. (Usually Most of the time.)

Hell, I want to cry about things that many Brazilians will see as our flaws and not empathise with, at least the upper classes, at least those who haven't spent a few years in the cold lands. I look at my poor, dirty, violent country, and I miss not a curated reel of the best parts, I miss the people, with all their very real issues.

I miss not being able to sleep at 2am, every week, because middle-aged ppl are singing painful love ballads on booze and an acoustic guitar in the specialty bar in front of my rented room. I'm not being facetious, I really miss it. Having my healthy sleep patterns disturbed by them made me smile. They were happy. They were _making happiness_ I had to work the next day, I woke worse, work was worse, fuck work, work doesn't matter, this is music, love, happiness, this matters. They understood that.

Music and love and happiness is holy, damn you all.

I miss not being able to sleep at 2am because my neighbours are having a loud party. I miss the knowledge that if I knocked on the door with a smile I'd be taken right in, a perfect stranger, even if I was too shy and dysphoric to act on that knowledge it comforted me.

I miss not being able to sleep at 2am because of the magnificent ppl coming down from the hills, the favelas, blasting downright pornographic earworms right to the face of polite middle-class society, hacked DIY sound systems shaking the security walls with maxxed-out bass. They are so right, polite middle class society is a grinding wheel running on blood, it more than deserves being blasted at 2am with cocks buried to the balls and dripping, all-consuming hungry pussies.

I curse this silence. I miss not being able to sleep at 2am because it's Carnaval and everybody is outside dancing and drinking and fucking one another for the pure, innocent shining reason of a body wanting another body.

And yes, I confess, I miss singing at 2am.

death mention 

is it normal to feel repulsion to all animals after seeing one die? like, i don't wanna see anything fluffy and defenseless for atleast about a month from now.

death of an animal, violent, mh(-) 

i have to say that on top of an already god-awful year, watching a kitten die in my hand was the absolute cherry on top

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death of an animal, violent 

so now i'm stuck in a limbo of thinking what we could've done differently. what i could've done differently. it happened in front of me, if anyone had any chance of stopping dumdum, it was me. or having some semblance of medical knowledge on what to do in situations like these

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death of an animal, violent 

it was moving and breathing so we cleaned it up and warmed it and it tried to walk for a bit so for a while we were sure that it'd be in some way disabled but that it'll live. then it started choking on something. it was like that for about 5 minutes, and then it died.

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death of an animal, violent 

we thought the spine was broken and it wouldn't live, but me and my sister, we took it to the vet's anyway. but he wasn't there

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