rosa is not quite scowling

Within a month of Trump's election I was made homeless ...

That is a fact. More on that later.

I'm writing this on my phone. I haven't used the mobile app before, but I need to keep this in my life.

Living out here (now that I am neither homeless nor in danger) is doing good things for me. I am doing good work for others, and I believe in it.

The thing I really wanted to record was the realization that lesbianism has always defined definition. I met a he/his afab, only 21 years old, who identifies as "gay" and wants "vagina" by which he means he wants cis women. I was hanging out with another woman only slightly older than me, but old enough to have been a Lexington regular-- she said, "he'd love it there." At the Lexington. The last lesbian bar. He!

(Clearly, a mixed up kid with some exploration left to do, but somehow not a dealbreaker?)

Pretty much only the shitty dykes are gatekeepers. I was afraid of my own identity because of them. I forced myself to endure rejection and posturing for so long, because I didn't feel "pure" enough. If I had found a way to avoid meeting the gatekeepers first, maybe I would have gotten a feeling of belonging and reconciliation sooner.

Unsurprisingly, i guess a lot of Phoenix lesbians were socially conservative.

I've been reading lesbian books. History isn't so "pure" either. It is a relief.

I think I took bad advice.

It's stormy outside. Not especially so, just a little thunder, lightning flashes. So I turned off all the lights. And I'm sitting in the silence, soaking it in. I went outside for about maybe 2 or 3 hours? Just sat there and experienced it. It wasn't drizzling at all, and there was lightning with no thunder, in the distance. The clouds overhead were sparse, in many places. You could see the stars. The sprinklers started running, and if i faced them, I could feel the mist on my shoulders, on my face, droplets carried by the wind.

I remembered the time I sat alone with Savanna, in the back yard of a man who I met on the internet, and we looked out past the desert, to distant city lights. The sun was rising, eventually. I spent a lot of nights on that trip, awake and talking until the sun rose. I've spent a lot of nights in my life, until the sun rises. She was talking about how we'd always remember that moment, that it was something special. It's the kind of thing that could be called fake deep, but to class things like that

(OH! The lightning was so loud just now! The storm picked up. It's probably raining ouside... I want to go into it but I don't want to wear clothes. What an obnoxious conundrum.)

as either fake or real deep, I don't think it really matters. I was 18 and she was 17. We drank liquors we'd never had before to figure out what they would feel like.

And I was telling someone last night, about how I went to a party where I drank half a bottle of $500 scotch in a pool with mostly strangers, friendly generous, safe strangers.

And how deep down, I just really want someone to share these with. I don't want someone to just tell stories to. I want someone to make stories with. No one's ever been able to do that with me, or has only ventured knee-deep and decided to go back to more familiar things.

I'm in nobody else's story right now. And that hurts, and it's lonely. I'm tired of it though, of taking parts that aren't fulfilling for me for the sake of other people. I need someone who wants the things I want, who is interested in the things I like, instead of waiting for them to catch up to me. I'm very alone.


She said to not contact my recruiters more, about the communications position, because I'd seem "like a nag." I listened to her, even though I got better advice from someone else, more meaningful advice. I probably should have sent that email when I had planned to.

It says more about her than it does about me. "Nag" feels negatively gendered. I think it means that she didn't want to engage with me and that hurts a bit, getting her to engage is like pulling teeth -- she doesn't bother processing with other people, and if she ever does it's about herself, her own emotional incompetence. Exhausting.


I'm bored of resenting people, though, for their short-comings. How do I purge myself of those feelings, though? If I could just shut off having reactions to things altogether... If I could, if I, would I. We do things because we feel strongly, though.  

I wanna be sleeping somewhere else, in a different bed. Really badly. 
hello ladies ~

(no subject)

I have to go to an appointment at 7 AM. I'd rather sit around and watch anime instead of sleeping like some kind of decent human being hahaha.

I dunno. I've been working a lot. Trying to get my abode into a more livable space, because I'm having company for my birthday. Admittedly, I'm mostly cleaning because I can't find my thumbtacks and want to hang up some lights and also re-hang my calendar.

I don't think it's a good idea to drive 2 hours out of civilization for the offer of $3k for just some weird sex act. Right? That 3k could solve most of the problems in my life but also that'd probably be a dandy remote location for me to get murdered and such. ha ha.

I'm trying not to get myself in trouble right now. Despite my screamingly magenta and teal hair, I seem to have developed an increase in my sneaking skills -- I don't try to test this intentionally, it just keeps happening. Maybe I'm finally recovering from my bitterness a little -- I'm letting myself exist a little more. Other blogs, responding to OKC messages, and so on. I'm going to be angry at facebook for a while longer. *shrug*

yeah, anyway, i have an appointment in less than 4 hours and i'm here instead.
ymir x christa

(no subject)

the fact that fandom, on tumblr, only has "tags" as a designated space is an awful clusterfuck. People go into the tags of ships and characters they dislike for the sole purpose of saying mean things?? why?? you wouldn't do that on an LJ comm. It's just so disruptive.

Admittedly, I'm starting to feel a little more at ease on Tumblr -- I have a few people who notice me there, and consistently enjoy my stuff? Sometimes I message them. Sometimes I show them stuff i found that they'd like. It's taken enough years, but, it's starting to feel okay.
michiko :3 :p

(no subject)

Your rainbow is intensely shaded pink, violet, and black.


What is says about you: You are a creative person. You appreciate mystery. You may meet people who are afraid of you. You are a good listener and your friends are glad to have you around in difficult times.

Find the colors of your rainbow at

i got bored and did this thing because that's the thing we do on LJ, or used to.

unlikely but true.

I can't believe I'd ever be saying this, but it's true. For me, at least.

The shitty bleach in the $11 boxed combo bleach/color sets, Splat! brand is actually better than the stuff I ordered from Sallys. To be honest, this shit didn't even burn my scalp at all, so, I dunno what to think. I mean, the burn is supposed to be a bad thing, however, I'm about to leave this shit on for two hours and go to the store and pick up another, and also the dyes... this is ridiculous. I should have bought two boxes.

Eh. Li-Chi picked her school finally. I wonder where we'll go from here. I have to figure that out soon...

all right, I rinsed out the bleach after leaving it on for two hours why is this so weak omg...
ymir x christa

information scarcity is dying and I love it.

 I remember it, unfortunately. It was 1996. I was seven years old. I don't think I'd even used the internet very much, but I was the kind of little child who would stay up late and hope that in my drowsiness I'd catch some ethereal whisper about my true love. I was the kind of child who was afraid that if I stayed up past midnight, la llorona would wander through my house and steal me, so i learned to lay very still. Anyway, point being, I'm sensitive and always have been. So. It was 1996, and I woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach flu. By which I mean I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, sobbing and throwing up off the side of my bed. I was sobbing for reasons much more than being sick, though. I realized in the midst of my illness, I was throwing up directly onto my copy of the collected Calvin and Hobbes. It was 1996: this fact matters because Bill Watterson, one of the greatest cartoonists of all time, had retired. No more Calvin and Hobbes. I was weeping in my heaving because I was destroying Calvin and Hobbes, and no more comics would ever be made. I was afraid because we lived in an era where things went out of print, for good, and were never seen again.

And now they don't.

Reading the above article, I'm utterly chuffed (positive meaning). I'm thinking now how easy it would be to browse a free repository of every single C&H strip, scanned and tagged, organized by subject matter. If I remembered even one panel, I could find that entire comic in an instant. And so, someone is pairing the classic comic with Dune quotes. How delightful. It's so easy now, to mix and mash up your favorite materials like that. And so much art now involves that kind of synthesis, and mine does too. 

When I was seven, I was afraid that something that would persist as classic would be lost forever, because I did not know that information scarcity would die. And now, for better or worse, we all live forever. In these pictures, at least.

Harper Lee has died today. 

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ymir x christa

too much.

One of the reasons i have trouble writing in here regularly anymore is because I feel like I have too much to say all at once. Part of that is due to ye olde information overload we live in now. It's hard to focus on one thing. Giving short summaries and lists of what I've been experiencing lacks any of the narrative joy I used to experience, and also cheapens the craft. 

But here's something, because these are things I need to record now.

I have recently begun writing fiction again. It's fanfic, admittedly, but with my internal distress being so painful I can't even really write it down anywhere, my fixation has turned to cartoons and ideology... so it's easier to allow my emotional lability to interface with those externals more than my own disappointments and joys. Which isn't to say I don't think about myself, as I always have. I just can't let it manifest with the same freeness that I once did. I love emotions and interpersonal dynamics more than anything, so it's a pain to have so much trouble... reaching myself. Nonetheless, I've begun writing fiction with greater ease than before, and better Writing Hygiene. Less going back to self-correct, more ideas on paper. Less planning and presumption, more immersion in the material itself, and what "feels" right. It's interesting to realize how I've matured. And it's interesting to contemplate my influences.

I am almost done with the worst illness of my adult life. I had fevers up to nearly 105 (104.8) for over two days, among other unsavory symptoms. I haven't eaten a full meal of solid food in like six days. Fevers are controlled, other symptoms no longer feel like they might kill me, but have not abated. 

I need to get around to writing about how much physical therapy is making me miserable.

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ymir x christa

(no subject)

i'm a little bit in pain right now; work popped up with something that emotionally compromised me, so I'm gonna take a moment to work on some art for a bit. sigh.

i sent Cherry (the new girl) a song she might like, she's having a stressful day, but I haven't asked yet.

By new girl, I mean, that I just met her and we've synced into each other very quickly, and there are hints of possibility at something growing between us, but I'm not ready for a pursuit or anything yet, and I don't know if I should try ever. But, talking to her is something I look forward to. 

I realized I need to learn to -date- girls. To exist around, to socially pose my eligibility etc. Because all I know is how to romance them; to specifically focus upon and woo. That approach makes rejection or disappointment a bigger deal than it needs to be. Socializing with the potential for attraction shouldn't be so devastating. I'm not monogamous so I don't have like it. 

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