for whatever reason, combat dolls in my mind's eye are seldom serene.

glow showing through cracks seeming like glyphs, a feral grin as incoming fire is weathered like rain.

i missed this the first time around, and, _oh_.

never understood praise kink thing; weird to imagine praise feeling like something other than an opening shot towards mockery or attempt to be taken advantage of.

💙

several insensitive analogies pop to mind; will instead say that (and these are capitalism things, yes) when big tech is attempting to force ai on users at the behest of its shareholder value, and further down the food chain companies are trying to use it to eliminate workers, it's hard to separate.

well you know, they'll have movies about our suffering later or something. maybe one will win an oscar.

i mean, too bad about the all of our dead but short of listening to us, how could they have known?

hard to say, tbh. compelling argument for idea that we're all broken

🙂

this has been mirrored outside of fantasies, and is a kind of mood whiplash. from hot and intense to... grasping at straws for what to do next. which isn't a euphemism.

probably this is a side effect of disconnection from body, dysphoria masked with disassociation, shit like that. but, frustrating.

am avoiding looking at some details of how things should be too closely. the unfixed but explainable-to-cis-people dysphoria sources are bad enough.

... maybe yes... still unsure if panel line tattoos would help me or rub it in.

good morning!

having a think about plans for my second generation purse.