This sums up how I feel right about now so well, especially some parts remind me of things with myself and Ikky.

'The Gods may throw the dice, their minds as gold as ice'. Couldn't agree more.


So it’s been a long time since I made a post here. I guess with everything going on in my life I just kind of forgot I had a Tumblr, although I don’t think I would have even wanted to put my feelings into words here if I did. I can barely do that when I want to talk to someone. But I’ll try. My psychiatrist says writing them down could help me, and I’m game for it.

The previous posts says it’s been about six months since I last posted something, and boy oh boy has a lot of stuff happened in that amount of time. I got out of my loveless relationship, migrated from Bittersweet Candybowl to Baystation 12, found companionship and blossoming love with someone wonderful, and gathered a small few, close friends. But honestly, I’ve felt mostly the same throughout. Though I’m not as miserable as I was before I can still feel it brewing deep inside, gnawing at the back of my mind. I just can’t shake it, and any happiness I may experience is a short burst before I go back to moping. At least I’ve been crying less.

Where to start? Last November I ended up getting into the roleplaying community at Baystation 12, based on the game Space Station 13. Though I was at first skeptical, I ended up having a lot of fun with my character. It was a refreshing experience and playing security was enjoyable. Soon enough my character had gathered some friends, a romantic interest, and people gave me a lot of praise. One that stuck with me for awhile was that I was ‘one of the good security players’. At first glance the people there seemed nice and welcoming, and I ended up befriending the person who played Oen’g Issek, my character’s love interest, as well as his friends. It was nice finding people who liked me and people I could be myself with. Things were good for a time.

But as with most things in my life, the ‘good’ never lasts long and comes to ruin usually by my own hand. Security was fun at first, but because Space Station 13 is a game centered around security fighting antagonists it became incredibly stressful and less enjoyable. These players - traitors, changelings, nuke operatives - usually got a free pass to kill whoever they wanted, blow up whatever they wanted, and generally make the round a pain simply because their role was that of an antagonist, regardless of whether or not their actions coincided with the objective they had been given. One outstanding case is where my friend said to administration in frustration he wanted to gut a random surgeon for botching a procedure to fix internal bleeding. The completely genuine, serious response was that ‘you’re an antag, you can kill him and ruin his round despite him not having anything to do with your objective’. Meanwhile, Security was held to a white-glove standard. You have a taser, which means you shouldn’t kill the dangerous, armed criminal who has killed before with your laser gear. It was a pathetic double-standard and over time made both my character and I grow cynical and tired of the back-and-forth.

Ana Ka’Rimah started out as a timid detective with a strong sense of justice and evolved into a lawful evil vanguard who was not afraid to kill a criminal in the name of the law. The admins took offense at my methods but nearly every person I shot I had good reasons to. Armed and dangerous, unable to be subdued peacefully, threatening and possible danger to self and civilians, saboteur who had vented have of the space station and so on. Where I had once found joy in playing the game, I only found dissatisfaction and anger. I confided this in my friend now semi-boyfriend Ikky, and our friend Yinadele, who is an admin on /tg/station as well as Baystation. Between the behavior of antags and the clashes I had with administration (who did not like me, despite a select few) I was growing tired of the game. But I had nothing else to do with my time. None of the other games I had satisfied me and if I can’t busy myself with something, I end up sitting here with my mind drifting to bad thoughts or memories unavoidably and just get more and more miserable. So despite my better judgement, I kept playing.

Sometime in all of this, my relationship with Ikky changed. I had a crush on him, I admitted this to him, and things slowly started to escalate from there. We expressed love for one another a few months later, and though we agreed not to make anything solid until we can meet face-to-face and have a real, honest-to-God date together, I consider him my significant other and I’m at least somewhat sure I am the same to him. We are intimate, we tell each other we love one another, and we have good times together. But because of our closeness, it meant the building drama with other players and admins on the server affected him as well. He started to become angry and upset with the game as well, through my own fault. And it culminated in something else he did not deserve that I dealt to him as well.

During one particularly chaotic round, I decided to lift the ‘don’t be an antagonist’ personal rule I had for Ana and allowed Oen’g to change her into a cultist. As a result, she was broken and not mentally sound. It all went well until an evacuation was called. Minding my own business, I stagger into medical bay and have her mumble some nonsense. What ends up happening is that I am nearly beaten to death by a cult construct commanded by a fellow cultist who doesn’t even tell it to stop beating my face in. At least three of my bones break. I stagger over to medbay doors, and a cultist wielding a sword closes in, the same one who had summoned the Juggernaut and didn’t even ask it to stop killing me. So of course Ana’s kneejerk reaction is to pull a gun and shoot her to death, believing the sword to be the coup de grace. Well, it turns out the cultist was an administrator who promptly banned me from every role that had access to a firearm. Since the basis of Ana’s character was that of a lawwoman, and at that point I was probably in deficit with favor in administration, I left after I made a fool of myself on the forums.

This was a major blow to my emotional stability. That game took up so much of my time, and now I had nothing to spend it on. What was I to do? I literally had nothing fulfilling or satisfying to occupy my time. I was waiting on Bioshock Infinite to come out but other than that, nothing else was good to keep my mind from wandering. It also depressed me greatly, because it was through my own hand that I ruined the thing that had brought me a lot of joy and fun. An effect that was not immediately noticeable, however, was that Ikky ended up losing the character that worked so well with his. I had ruined something for him as well, and that thought brought me a lot of pain.

That’s all behind me, now, though it is a source of constant bad memories, thoughts, and regret. Ikky and I still love each other and I feel more comfortable with him sexually than anyone else, which is difficult given my situation as a transgendered woman. More often than not, however, I worry greatly about our relationship. Much like Baystation memories, it is a source of great distress for me. I still lack things to occupy my time and so I often stew upon things for feel left out and alone while he plays games and enjoys himself. I don’t want to tell him this a lot of the time. He’s told me before he’s had bad experiences with ‘clingy furries’ and though I’m not a furry I don’t want to turn him off like that. Our stance as a couple also comes into play here. I don’t know if he considers me a girlfriend despite everything and would afford me more liberty to ask for time to spend together. He even snapped at me once when I expressed these feelings to him in a short way, though he apologized shortly after when I clarified what I meant. Regardless of the depth of his feelings for me, I love him. I cling to him more than I should. Without him I would probably still be as miserable as I was months ago. He is the pillar for me, the thing that keeps me up despite my weakness and tiredness in life. Of course, I could never tell him any of this. I don’t want to pressure him, or make him feel like I’m guilt tripping him into anything. Lover or friend his companionship is invaluable to me.

I still feel miserable. I still look down at myself and feel like I want to cry. My mind always drifts to how people will look at me in the future. I can glance back and see all of the steps forward LB and G have made, how they fight fiercely for their rights and equality and are actually granting it. But the same can’t be said for T. People can understand loving the same sex, but entirely redefining gender? Changing what people thought was black and white? It is not so easily done. I know people are going to look at me like I’m a freak. They’ll deny me jobs, love, and friendships because of it. I know I’ll never be ‘attractive’ or ‘pretty’ or ‘feminine’ and I’ll probably never amount to anything. I’m more than lucky to have Ikky with me, and he’s too good for me. I could never be all that he deserves. I love him to death but I’m so afraid he’ll find someone better, someone prettier or more sexy or less clingy and less of an emotional wreck. I’m so scared of venting or talking to him because I don’t want him to think I’m one of those. He’s mentioned he’s met broken people before who drove him crazy, and I don’t want to be that. But that just makes me feel more alone than I’ve ever been sometimes.

My circle of friends has grown increasingly thin. I can only call one person a good friend now, and that’s Ikky himself. I don’t know if the people I thought were my friends before just don’t care about me or are too busy. No one ever actively sought me out to see how I was doing, they never messaged me or even sent a personal message saying ‘hi’. I confided so much in people like SuitCase and Taeshi and others, but they never checked up on me when I went silent because I was so miserable and tired. Even my new friends, like Yinadele or Raviro don’t bother to even check in on me. Even with Ikky and the deep feelings I have for him, I’ve never felt more alone or isolated. It’s a terrible feeling, like a frosty chill just gnawing away at my heart. And now that I have so little to do and not enough people to do things with, my mind never lets me have peace, never lets me rest, never lets me sleep soundly at night.

Sometimes I can’t tell if things have gotten better or worse. I’m still miserable, though maybe slightly not as much as before. Still unmotivated, still an ugly, hairy, man-looking unattractive drop-out who can’t take hormones because she doesn’t have a job to buy them with. I don’t even think I want to because of all the health side-effects. Still alone, though Ikky helps with that sometimes. Still amount to nothing. Half a year and so little has changed. I doubt it will any time in the near future, at least for the better. My government money is going to get cut off and we’re probably going to have to give up our house, just me and my dad. Just me and that miserable man.

My mother is dead and my aunt and godparents have disowned me. My mother passed away in April of 2012 due to sepsis. I hated her, I hated her for so long and now I miss her dearly. I miss her so much. I cry when I think about our relationship. A half-assed apology on her death bed. My mother wasn’t the best in the world, and she may have been a bad one, but she was still my mother. I shared more with her than I did my father, and I was anything but the perfect child. Talking with my aunt before she cast me away, it was obvious to me my mother was suffering from depression. Listening about how she was decades ago made me realize how far she’d fallen, and I’m sure she did too. But I never saw at the time. I hated her for how she abused me and swore at her, called her names, told her I wish she’d die. And now I’m mourning her loss deeply. That’s some kind of irony. I loved my mother despite it all and I wish she was still here with me now, especially since my family has all but disowned me.

My aunt left me out to dry after an argument we had on Easter about my father. He wanted to drag me to church and that was fine. A few days after I got a call from my godparents inviting me over to eat later in the day. That’s fine, I could appease my dad by going to stupid Christian plays early in the morning and then go to their house. The moment I told him, though, he had a hissyfit and demanded we spend the day together. I called my aunt first to return a call and let her know I couldn’t make it, and she just snapped on me. I rarely check my cell phone, so I end up missing a lot of calls from her, especially after we set up days to see one another. I’m incredibly forgetful and my depression never really motivated me to set reminders. On top of that, my aunt is one of those ‘my life is worse but look at me get up every day’ people, who I loathe. She’s also one of those ‘I’m an adult which means I have factually more experience than you in anything so deal with i, I’m always right’ people. She uses this as ammo to fight against me and then just told me that it’s best if I stay over at my house and let them be.

Not more than twenty minutes ago, when I started writing this, I felt that my life had picked up. Now that I’ve finished, however, I’ve realized just how far I’ve fallen. I’ve lost my mother, my family, many friends, satisfaction both sexual and normal, and my security. The only thing that brings me joy anymore is the time I spent with Ikky, but he’s got such a full schedule nowadays that I find it harder and harder to do things with him. In writing this I realize I’ve never felt more alone, more hopeless, and more cut off from everything joyful in my life. It’s colder than it ever was before. And I can’t tell Ikky all of this because I’m so afraid of losing him and turning him off. I’m just so alone.

What did I ever do to deserve this?


Flutterwhat: Canterlot Gardens organizer, David Mandes, Arrested for Theft.



The organizer for the upcoming Canterlot Gardens convention was arrested on the 22rd of last month in Akron, Ohio and is currently facing charges of Theft.[1]

He was held overnight and Paid $154 the next day as %10 of his bond of $1000[2]

David Mendes goes by the username of ‘Nanashi…

Wow tinker, we love how you ‘love and tolerated’ david right to jail. What an aggressive move on your part. And might we add very well played on the maturity part, 43 and picking fights with people 20+ years younger? We’re fucking impressed.

>love and tolerate

I don’t think you know exactly what that means. This man stole from another person, do you understand? He took, without permission, a large sum of money and he should indeed be punished to the fullest extent of the law. It’s really obvious you’re grasping at straws here. What on Earth is wrong with Purple Tinker seeking justice for the wrong she suffered at the hands of this man - if she even is the one who filed criminal charges? Does being a Brony mean you automatically forgive criminals and anything done to bring justice to the victim is in violation of this bullshit ‘love and tolerhate’ mantra? He made a bad choice, and he is an adult. He suffers the consequences.

Source: crawlywhat

i am pro at spiral knights

  • Question: It appears from your tumblr page and recent posts that you’re hurting at the moment, please don’t feel alone. I want you to know that you are very special, and that you have unlimited potential to experience unlimited opportunities. Let your hurtful mind be filled with new seeds of joy and happiness. If you’re truly suffering then I beg you to be compelled to share your thoughts with me in a reply, add “Pertokeyo Fanciful” on facebook, we can even communicate further. Would you like to do that? - upoqvosammiovpoqu
  • Answer:

    I appreciate the offer but I don’t have a Facebook and never will. I am also thankful you would offer to listen to me but realistically speaking, talking about the problems won’t fix anything. I have spent over two years in therapy with a number of therapists and they have done little for me. I am cursed with an incurable disease and there is little treatment available that can lessen the symptoms.

    But I’ll humor you and share my thoughts with you. I’ve done so already on this blog but I suppose rewording it would do some good. Regardless, do you want to know why I suffer so? The thoughts that plague my mind? It’s like an incessant whispering. Not screeching, or shouting, but it’s there in the background, the faint noises. You can’t tell where they’re coming from but the droning gets more and more distracting.

    All I’ve ever experienced in my life is pain, for as long as I can remember. Both of my parents gave up early in my life. My dad was diagnosed with auto-immune disease Vasculitis and had to quit his job at the UFCW. Then my mom quit her job and reserved herself to get fat and take up space on the sofa while I took care of everything. I was sexually abused in the First Grade by my own godbrother and no one I told took any legal action against him. So for as long as I can remember, the only things I ever experienced were loneliness and pain. No one in my family ever hugged me or kissed me or told me they loved me aside from one or two, and almost the entirety of my paternal family members rejected me completely. Wouldn’t even sit with me at my dad’s dad’s funeral. Said I wasn’t family.

    I used to believe in God. I was raised in a Catholic family and grew up in inhospitable Catholic schools filled with adults who had an ignorant mindset that was remnant of the past. I was bullied and abused because I was neglected by my parents. Never had any clean clothes so I stunk, no one would sit by me or talk to me. I was the dirty, ugly, nerdy kid that everyone laughed at. The teachers knew I was being neglected but never did anything, especially after my father scared away the Nuns when they came to see what was going on. They let me suffer and let the kids ridicule me, and added onto it themselves. Especially our math teacher, Miss Josephine Granat. I went to Church and prayed to God that he would help me, help me stop being perpetually miserable. He never did one damn thing for me. As I grew older and my situation became worse and worse I realized that if God did exist, he was a sadistic son of a bitch and I would rather rot in Hell than associate myself with him. Such a loving God could not exist. All the suffering in the world? I realized blinding myself with devotion to an entity of the manmade kind was no way to live my life. I decided back then I was not going to be ignorant of my problems even if ignorance is bliss. I didn’t want that.

    Now, I want nothing more than that.

    It felt like things were picking up when my identity crisis was finally over, but all it did was get worse. I had lied to my first and strongest love about my biological gender since I had no idea what was wrong with me, or what ‘transgender’ was. When I told him he dropped me like a hot pocket and I was left alone. That scarred me in more ways than I care to admit, even if he came back. I ended it after we tried to start again. I just couldn’t do it after what happened. It was too painful. The memory still haunts me to this day.

    Ever since then I’ve had a string of unsuccessful relationships that end because of my own fault. It’s my natural instinct to distance myself from people because all they’ve ever done is hurt me. I’m crass and brash in an attempt to push people away and keep them at a distance and it usually succeeds. If it doesn’t I cut off contact with that person completely and ignore them. I am so tired of being alone but I can’t trust anyone. Everyone I’ve ever known has hurt me badly in some way, even my current friends. Without fail I have always suffered at the hands of another human being.

    But I’m so tired of being alone. All I’ve ever wanted is just to be loved. Not loved like a friend, or like another human being, but intimately. I crave intimacy so deeply even if the very thought of engaging in it with this disgusting form I have brings me to the verge of a nervous breakdown. I’m tired of fighting a hopeless battle alone. I just want to be loved. Feel someone’s arms around me, soft whispers telling me it’ll be alright, comfort and solace with another person. But let’s be realistic - I’m a freak. No one could care for me like that, especially not another woman. What lesbian would ever want to be with a cheap Chinese knock-off like me? I’m not even pretty, or cute, or even alluring. I’m just fat and ugly. Nothing is biological as well. I’m like a sentient sex doll. Even if they could get past all that I myself am a miserable person to be around because all I ever experience is negativity. It leaks from my very pores. I seep an aura of negativity.

    I wake up every day, cold and alone, and look down at my body. Big hands and feet, hair everywhere, plump belly, and a dick. I feel like I’m looking out through someone else’s eyes. This isn’t what I want. I can’t even begin to describe to you the agony that it puts me through. It’s a pain I sincerely doubt you’ve ever felt before. Not even a gunshot could hurt this badly. It’s an excruciating agony that words serve no justice. My heart aches and I want to cry. And you want to know the kicker, the icing on the cake?

    Nothing will ever change it. No matter how much surgery I get, how many hormones I take, how much silicone I have injected into my breasts, nothing will ever fix it. They could look at my DNA 300 years from now and it’d have an XY chromosome. I’d still be a man. I’d still be who I am not. I’ll never be able to have children or menstruate or even have a vagina that self-lubricates. I’ll just be, as I said, a cheap Chinese knock-off. There’s no way for me to be who I am completely. It’s an incurable disease. I’ll never be able to escape it. I’ll always be the almost-female. The freak. The mutant. The dickgirl. The tranny.

    And that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I’ll never be able to do what I want to do. Can’t teach - no school would hire me. Too controversial. Can’t be anything else, who would hire a tranny for any sort of reputable position? Not even the government is on my side. I have to jump through so many hoops just to get close to being who I am. Doctors, therapy, years of limbo before I can get surgery. Even getting hormones is a struggle. No insurance will cover me because they consider this all to be ‘elective’ so I have to pay out of pocket. And even then until I get my surgery I can’t change my legal documentation. Do you know how humiliating it is to display an ID with a contradicting sex and name? I have no doubt I will suffer snide comments at job applications or even at the hands of police officers, the people who are supposed to protect me and keep me safe.

    I won’t even be able to have surgery until my mid-twenties, and by then the most important parts of my life are over. I had to grow up fast to take care of my parents as a child, so I lost that, and my adolescence was plagued by so much misery I had to drop out of high school in Freshman year and haven’t been back since. I never got to experience the things normal people get to. My biggest problem was never ‘what girl likes me’ or ‘trouble in algebra’. It was a cold, dark existence with a sadness the likes of I cannot describe. I will never have the privilege of being a normal person. I have to work my ass off to get the things other people had the pleasure of having at birth. I won’t even be able to be myself until I’m twenty-four or older. Other people had the leisure of having it when they were born.

    My only solace from all of this is death. So while I appreciate your efforts to help me they are only in vain. No matter how altruistic you are, there is absolutely nothing you can do to solve my problems. I thank you for trying but you’re better off saving your breath.

  • Question: it isn't all true, you don't have to be like that. the world is turning around for the transgender people in the world, and you should welcome that with open arms. the person who said that to you, they have no idea who you are or who you will turn out to be, prove them wrong and be better then what they said. - Anonymous
  • Answer:

    This actually reminded me of something I had planned to talk about here but never actually got around to doing. It’s in regards to the ‘world turning around for transgender people’. While certainly it’s not the same as it was less than a century ago, it still is far away from achieving any semblance of equality. No, the world is turning around for the homosexuals.

    And herein lies the problem. In LBGT, T is just sort of tacked on there because there really is nowhere else for us to go. Realistically I have nothing in common with bisexual people or gay men. I may indeed be a lesbian but there are heterosexual transgendered people out there and as such have nothing in common at all with the LBG crowd. Our experiences are vastly different and are in no way equatable. The source of hate and discrimination could be dumbed down to be ‘sexual deviancy’ but that’s all you could find.

    A lesbian woman has no idea what gender dysphoria could possibly feel like and is unaware of the crushing depression it brings with it. The world has advanced socially to a point where you won’t be hung or persecuted for being gay anymore, and that’s great. They still have a way to go themselves. But the transgendered population is about ten steps behind every step the LBG makes forward. It’s easy for people to grasp loving the same sex, no matter what bigoted mindset they have. It’s something they can easily come to understand. But being transgendered is a whole different story. It is in no way easy or simple to understand the type of depression, or situation, or thinking transgendered people have.

    Let’s face it, people are lazy. Few would really want to take the effort to understand me. It’s much easier to sit behind the computer screen and call me names or turn their nose up at me when they walk past because I’m not normal like the rest of society. To further propagate this mindset the biology behind transgenderism is pretty up in the air and the studies are inconclusive or in contradiction of each other. Scientists have determined being gay isn’t really a conscious choice. When it comes to me they have very little idea. So it’s easy to say things like ‘you were so ashamed of being a man’ and feeling content because there’s no physical proof to put that to rest.

    I don’t predict any sort of ‘equality’ happening until I’m too old to really care. If I even live that long. And even then it won’t really change anything. Being transgendered is the most foul curse to ever hit me. Other trans people are happy enough when they get surgery and transition, but not me. What I can’t possibly stand is the amount of labels that come with my disorder. I don’t want to be called transgendered, or a transwoman, or anything like that. I just want to be a normal woman who lives a normal life. I despise that label and everything it brings with it.

    I know that deep down in someone’s subconscious I will always be the almost-female, the dickgirl, the tranny, the chick with a dick, the half-way point, no matter how liberal they are. That’s just the way distinguishing features work. I will always be the transwoman and not the normal woman unless I receive my surgery, can pass, and cut off all contacts with my old friends to start over in a new city, which I sincerely contemplate doing. Even then, I might as well not have an intimate relationship at all. A lesbian will certainly be able to notice the differences between her natural vagina and my medical abomination. I’ve never wanted to be anything more than normal. I don’t want to be this.

    I have a terminal illness, and incurable disease. I have an XY chromosome. Nothing, no medical procedures or hormone treatments or silicone injections will ever change that. I’m like a cheap Chinese knock-off of a real woman. I might as well keep my dick and work the streets or in the porn industry because in this day and age it’s unlikely I’ll be able to do anything worthwhile. Certainly, I won’t be able to teach like I’ve always wanted to.

    I appreciate you trying to help, but don’t waste your concern on me. I gave up a long time ago, and I’m not long for this world. It isn’t worth it.


Parka's World: You Bronies are hilarious.There’s a difference between being a fan of...








You Bronies are hilarious.

There’s a difference between being a fan of a series, and getting involved in the lives of other people. Especially when they have nothing to do with you.

Oh Hey, I like music. I’m going to Judge every musician that I don’t like.

Hey, you threatened some one I have…

This isn’t how it works.

Just because greater bad things are happening in place [a] doesn’t mean that we can ignore lesser things happening in place [b].

It’s like saying ‘Well, genocide is happening in [x] civil war in [y] country; therefore, I don’t have to give a fuck about racism or sexism or homophobia in [z] country because they aren’t asbad’.

That’s the ‘well, at least it isn’t the Holocaust’ argument. My messy hair isn’t as bad as the Holocaust. Does that mean I shouldn’t mess my fucking hair?

I’m sorry. Did you just compare someone making fun of you on the internet to the holocaust?

Not at all. I compared my messy-ass hair to the Holocaust. It was a deliberately stupid comparison meant to make a point: That ‘WELL, SOMETHING ELSE WORSE EXISTS!111’ is NOT a valid reason to ignore SMALLER ills.

No. It was an incredibly offensive comparison to make, Tinker.

No matter how hurt you feel, or how much of a crusade you feel you need to go upon towards people who you feel have libeled you, comparing you getting made fun of to the systematic and nationalized genocide of over 17 million people is NOT kosher. And yes. There is a sliding scale of relativism here. “Bad” is not the same when you’re talking about libel, as it is when you’re talking about murder. It’s the basis of our entire civil and criminal justice system.

Look. I get this. I get that people pick on you. I get that people attack you because your transgendered, or you feel that way often. But have you ever considered not getting involved in HALF of the things out there that you tend to find yourself involved in? Or not bothering to respond OR Justify to half of the people in this Fandom who clearly are baiting you to get a response to their trolling?

Who on earth are you to tell me what is and isn’t ‘kosher’? You know I’m Jewish, right? I was circumcised. I was Bar Mitzvahed. I have a Hebrew name. If I want to make a deliberately flippant reference to my people’sHolocaust, that’s my prerogative, and if you don’t like it, you can kiss my tokhes.

Does it look like I care what you are? I don’t care if you’re Jewish, German, a Holocaust Survivor, a former Nazi, or a member of any number of other ethnoreligious groups the NSDAP persecuted.

You’re not cute, and you’re not edgy when you make hyperbolic claims like this.

Frankly, I don’t care what a Rabbi cut off your penis. I don’t even care about your penis, Missy. I was circumcised too. Big. Freakin’. Deal.

The funny thing is, I’ve defended you in the past. I’ve stood up for you, because I think it’s ghastly that someone’s sexual orientation is used to judge them, and not the content of your character.

And you’re right. You can make what-ever off color, poor taste reference you want. But, you know what? You don’t get that right because you’re Jewish. You get that right because, on the internet, anyone can be as idiotic as they want.

Remember what I said about causing drama, PT? You’ve turned a simple statement about comparing being made fun of on the internet to the holocaust into being entitled to do so because you’re Jewish. I’m sure the Poles, Gypsies/Romas, Russians, Homosexuals, Mentally Ill, and any other group they targeted for extermination would totally give you a pass on being so flippant about it.

I do, however, reserve the right to point out you’re acting like a complete idiot, and exactly like people who make fun of you:

A) Want you to act so they can point out how you fly off the handle at small things..
B) Expect you to act, so they have further fuel for their drama.

No, PurpleTinker: Instead of apologizing for making a comment that is completely unacceptable as a comparison to make, I’m the bad guy here because I dared to call you out on it.

So you can take your tokhes, and shove a large oak tsvayg right up it if you think being Jewish gives you a free pass.

Yes. I’m calling you out on your hypocritical, morally relativistic behavior. Especially when you’re acting exactly the same as the people you’re chiding.

armchair social justice episode 2: someone comparing something to the holocaust is verboten

(via paramediceclipse-deactivated201)

Source: parkamod
  • Question: I want you to know, that what you wrote about someone calling you transgender is the worst thing I have ever heard in my life. Being transgender is NOT anything to be embarrassed about. The person who said those things to you, they are the ugly ones, they might be able to have all of those things, but they will never truly appreciate the things that they have like you will come to. my boyfriend is trans AND perfect, you can be to :) - Anonymous
  • Answer:

    except it’s all true

    it was less the hate and more the validity that got me



A freak? A joke? A disappointment?

It must be terrible to know that you’ll forever be that family member that the rest just, don’t talk about. An eternal embarrassment. A stain. You shame your family and make them subjects of ridicule, what respectable people could rear a young man so poorly, that he makes himself a eunuch? It’s laughable almost, and it sort of makes me appreciate the things I take for granted.

I’ve had guys lust after me for as long as I can remember. I’ve fallen in love, and I’ve made love in more intimate ways than you are biologically incapable of experiencing. You’ll never have a life like mine, even though you paid to have your body deformed and wrought into an uncanny, pitiful mockery of my natural form. You’re forever going to be delegated to fetishists and the most insecure and desperate of men. Your life is over, the constant rejection and alienation you’ve experienced all your life will only increase tenfold in light of your operation.

The hatred you’ve always had for yourself will be magnified, when you find that people can no longer love something so repulsive. Soon, maybe even now, you will find yourself repulsive as well. There’s no going back.

You will never be a man. You will never be a woman.

You will never matter to anybody.


- Someone talking about me

so much time spent being miserable you think you’ve numbed yourself to it

then shit happens and you become even more miserable

story of my life