aick

I don't know how other people live, how they can be comfortable and peaceful when every damn day a new hell just appears in my body. Something painful and horrifying so much agony I couldn't even feel when I stabbed myself three times in the shoulder with a key this afternoon.
I feel it now, but it's like nothing compared to this... back and leg and liver and hell knows what else it's too much too even tell where it all is! I can't feel a single part of my body right now which does not just have some pain going on. Fuck's sake, and if I show even the tiniest shadow of the rictus my face would be frozen in if I allowed it then people think I'm suicidal to the point where they actually reach for the phone to call 911. I can't take this bullshit anymore, doesn't seem like anyone gets it.
So that's the fucking physical pain, which is not much compared to not being able to understand anyone else. I do not get it, I don't know why people have a problem with bluntness and honesty and I don't know a better way to be. I can't lie and I can't seem to "say nice thing to make people feel better" all the time, so maybe I am a monster with no empathy fuck knows I'm barely civilized/socialized as it is. Took my arrogant ass to a test facility masquerading as an advanced placement program when I was 14, never went to HS and wasn't socialized to begin with.
And I get called immature? Of course I am! How could I not be? I have had little to no personal intimate interaction with hardly anyone in my life. I feel sneered at and looked down upon while everybody's telling me I'm pretty and smart because I do not get it.

Am I afraid? I wish I were. I just don't have any clue what to do and writing poetry in a mud hut with not many people who even care about poetry to begin with just looks like such a stupid and self-harming thing to do it's hard to take myself seriously when I say I'm not trying to just die in a dirty hellhole.
At least I have a community finally, that's a Trans-send. <3 Love my sibs, omg, if anyone can understand a life of torment it's another Trans person.
Hell, I even stuck my toe in to the idea of going middle-aged Conservative jew for a marriage and domestic life. Still not off the table, but I won't go back in a closet for anyone or any religion, for me it's an ethnic/culture thing, and yeah sure G-d's all in there and shit but whatever it's a goddamn symbol as far as I'm concerned, and not a bad one. L'chaim, I'm gonna go be grouchy.
Cat time.

It's not about Ukraine, or the people of Ukraine for us, not this week, that's just what we're trying to focus on so we can say something other than just silently shrieking in this particular flavor of howling despair we know so fucking well. It should be named after us, being alone. We were so alone as a child we never even knew we were lonely until we hit our mid-30s. And it's gotten worse with age, as it does for everyone, but we started out with nothing and had everything we managed to build shattered or stolen.
We're not that smart. Genius isn't a smart thing, not for us, it's a creative thing. And yeah we can encapsulate an entire being of a person, a soul fragment of theirs in a poem in an instant, but that doesn't help us connect, and if anything it only serves to alienate us ever more. And how the fuck does one find someone when one is a trans nonbinary freak? We're not even cool enough to be banned from bathrooms, our choices seem to boil down to chasers and abusers. Fuck, we'd love a chaser at this point *instant regret and self-abuse for that statement*..... and demi...
It's not about Ukraine, it's about us not knowing who to ask or for what and being too afraid of even the tiniest rejection at this point we're paralyzed and just looking down a tunnel of THIS until our liver finally gives up the ghost.
As we go back and re-read this, we see why nobody wants us around. We sound pompous and arrogant as shit. There, that's what good genius has done us, we're so good at language we can't write for regular people anymore. Oh well, sorry mom, grandma, great grandma.
We did come up with what we thought was a terrible joke earlier, and we were proud of it: We've never been a G, that's why we live in a Hetto!

Current Mood: sad

Yeppers, managed to get a really stupid restriction there for a week as well! This one was to Ron DeSantis. When we will learn to not punch up?

So we got a 30 day restriction on MetaFace for calling a Superstraight transphobic troll a "dumb bird"...
Now, if it came down to a choice between mods and no mods in the world, we'd pick mods. That said, we wouldn't pick the most Puritanical tightass cop-brained white pricks with Victorian pomp and etiquette in mind to do it, because whoever the fuck thinks "dumb bird" is a goddamn bannable offense is the most passive aggressive little turd on the planet.
Monopoly. We all played that game or at least have an idea what it is. We also all got taught that we busted the trusts in teh USA over a century ago! So why the fuck are there only like 4 major corporations responsible for everything on the planet? Oh wait, you mean to say that governments are less powerful than private corporations because for the last n centuries since the fuckin Renaissance the wealthy have been nibbling away at the power of the ruling classes and bypassing the people entirely.
This is why we have significantly less purchasing power now than we did the year we were born, nearly 50 ago. Lazy cowardly dolts who are too stupid to do anything about the ticks covering their own bodies.
A pox on the lot of em, stupid fuckin "civilization", what a larf.
Speaking of which, if yu don't know about the whole "society will collapse by 2040" study that MIT authored in 1972 or whatever, look it up and notice that recent studies have concluded that we are actually ahead of schedule. Hope y'all were raised by climbers and know how to survive in a dying world with a crumbling society around you. If not, one thing we're very used to is degradation of our own lifestyle.Anybody who says they're prepared for it doesn't understand the terms "random" "Emergent" or "society," we reckon.
On a similar note, we've written a treatment/first draft of a little poem about a city of candy defending itself against the seige of a field of vegetables. We call it "Sugar City Candy Brigades".
TTFN!
-Aick
https://katamariana.blogspot.com/2021/12/sugar-city-candy-brigades.html

It's really kinda biting us in the ass this year, Catsgiving and Catsukkah being on the same weekend. We can't help but think this was just shitty planning on our part. Oh well! Chat-Semeow? That's like, Friddish. Frebrew? Whatever.
Chag sameach Chanukkah. L'chaim.

So yeah, we're trying to sell our book. Gotta get it printed and published first, so we've been looking into various avenues for that and so far we've begun the process, have a consult with publisher comin up and all that, so we'll see how that goes.
Oh insecurity, it makes no sense to us. We legit don't think we CARE whether people like our writing or not but every time we pull the handle and let the trapdoor open we really really do. So there it is, our pathetic vanity. See, we know damn well already that we can knock out basically any boring standard short story or novel you like, but poetry is a pain in the ass and completely different animal. It's why we do it, a challenge, an epic personal struggle with language and the world and our visions of it, nothing really all that magnificent except for the bare bones raw bloody nature of the compulsion.
We MUST write this shit, it won't let us not. So at this point we just keep writing and writing and we don't even watch movies or TV anymore which really upsets us actually, they're just now exploring the whole nonbinary person in Hollywood thing on Star Trek and we're so high-key frikkin sensitive to art and craft we can't even sit through a scene without deconstructing it to death and hating it before it's even over.
So yeah, poetry. It's better than drinking, we suppose. Everybody says it is, but we're still in the same house, still got the same cats (hell yeah, cat lyfe!). It hasn't materially improved our quality of life, just not drinking hasn't, but we did get the courage to finally come out of the stupid ass shoebox/closet and that ain't nothing to sneer at.
We're a lonesome old queer well past our prime queerin' years, yay. And ironically? All we want is what would appear to anyone who didn't know us to be a standard family. Two people married, maybe a sprog by accident or adoption.
Oh well, back to writing! And we do adore the cats, our life is stable and comfortable. We're losing weight/recovering from our alcoholism etc. Huzzah! It's all a delightfully long-ass grind. Eeeee! Crescit eundo et cetera ad infinitum et absurdum!

Oh a new social medias!
this one promises to be less individious
we shall see if it becomes hideous
we won't hold our breath,
but if we die don't pity us

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