Cardassian Fashion Magazine
Garak has this on the coffee table in his back office.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one that added 35k extra words to the projected length of this fucking story ahgeilahgleiag
"i feel besquintled", said no one ever. because that's not a word.
okay nevermind it IS a word now and this is exactly what it means.
will you guys cancel me if i say that queer tragedy has a place in the creative arts and shouldn’t immediately be dismissed as bury your gays
does anyone know if we have tomorrow tomorrow
ohhh my fucking god AND tomorrow. it really does creep in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time—
thinking about how when you experience a lot of shame in your formative years (indirectly, directly, as abuse or just as an extant part of your environment) it becomes really difficult to be perceived by other people in general. the mere concept of someone watching me do anything, whether it's a totally normal activity or something unfamiliar of embarrassing, whether I'm working in an excel spreadsheet or being horny on main, it just makes my skin crawl and my brain turn to static because I cannot convince myself that it's okay to be seen and experienced. because to exist is to be ashamed and embarrassed of myself, whether I'm failing at something or not, because my instinctive reaction to anyone commenting on ANYTHING I'm doing is to crawl into a hole and die. it's such a bizarre and dehumanizing feeling to just not be able to exist without constantly thinking about how you are being Perceived. ceaseless watcher give me a god damn break.
sorry to put your tags on blast on this insane breach containment post I have since muted, but you're right and you should say it.
It is defeatable. Go for the throat.
