Hashem Yireh

Liberationist negress wields the powers of darkness while giggling at dicks.

[femmefuckery]

TW: Gore, violence

If an dog of the wild attacks a man, grasping within her glorious maw his lower lip in its entirety, flees into the hungry West and should befriend you--and you kiss an dog on mouth, thereby accidentally pressing your lips to the lower lip of the man thrice mentioned, did you kiss a man? Are still gay.

[femmefuckery]

This is what my feminism looks like.

[femmefuckery]

The river- when she blesses your soil, when she grips your cities by the scalp and leaves you wading in the ruins- means well. Neither the hungry hound nor the fleeing hare intend malice. Even so, that hare's neck is going to snap. That water is going to rise. Condemnation comes regardless of intent. 

[femmefuckery]

What should be an exciting moment of joy becomes tragic because I have to explain the set-up, which is infinitely worse than I am ever going to admit except this one time and may deny in the future

I don't often discuss the way I interact with my emotions because of internalized shame-- which is ironic considering that most of this concealment centres around a lack of guilt and deep skepticism as to the authenticity of any emotion I am the sole witness of.

Being an air sign, living with chronic pain, being probably definitely neuroatypical (this is difficult to admit), being bipolar, I am at war with my emotions. They are tools over which I do not have absolute control, and this is dangerous because all tools can be weaponised. If I cannot wield my weapon-tools well, they may destroy me. I could have an ill-timed anxiety attack and discredit myself-- or worse. I could lose control of my composure and do all manner of compulsive things. I could give myself ulcers because of emotions. I could trigger a chronic pain flare-up and send myself into a hellish cycle of sleep paralysis and insomnia. To date, self-discipline and the grace of G-d have been the only safeguards keeping my disabilities from destroying me-- or worse. My emotions are often invalid. The urge to weep, to eat, to kill, to starve, to sex, to laugh, to be silent, to sing, to die can be caused by shifts in weather, introduction to allergens, lack of sleep and/or seasonal changes. All that differentiates my 'real emotions' from my moodswings is a dissonance which only I can hear. I have become an expert at hearing the pattern o my thoughts and feelings. I know how I would react to situations which I have never encountered-- because knowing myself allows me to be myself and to filter out that which is not myself. When my pain is too loud, or my moodswings too strong, I struggle to hear that faint difference between my typical pattern and these situational experiences.

One can immediately understand, then, how authenticity becomes concerning. In my natural state, I am unwell; often feral;unsafe to be around;in danger from myself. Perhaps this is true of all people. Perhaps everyone can feel themselves exerting the effort to be well- to behave like a human being. I do not know. I do know, though, that as close to my core as I can feel, I have a constant dialogue. Intuition A quietly, persistently denies the authenticity of my every part. She reminds me that I am, in my basic form, a manipulative, deceitful machine faking everything. She believes that my chronic pain is a lie, and that my chronic fatigue syndrome is the result of my being exhausted by constantly simulating emotions I don't have. Intuition B refutes these points. She insists that my metacognition does not invalidate my emotional experiences. She insists that some sensations are real and others are false. She insists that by compulsively refining our mental filters, we can cultivate a safe relationship with our feelings while defeating our compulsions.

I feel. But I'm critical of every feeling. They come to me muted sometimes, for six months at a time, as though the volume is set to low. Sometimes, a sensation comes screaming through, though. That's usually a mood swing. I have to mute those manually, to make myself safe. Every so rarely though, like today, an emotion comes through louder than my depression, louder through my moodswings, louder than my pain-- and it sounds right to me. Every once in a while I'm filled all the way with an emotion and I know that this one is mine- that it's authentic. Today, it was overwhelming love.

I'm not going to explain to the person who caused it, because I'd have to start with 'So, I normally love people through plexiglass, but today you made me feel something for real, and now I know for sure, by comparison, that the plexiglass wall really exists.' and there's no way I'd make it to the part about how "I'm real, I promise I'm real, my love just isn't visceral most of the time, but my hypothetical emotions are just as real as your literal emotions, please don't be afraid of me because I can't be trusted, I promise I want to do the right thing even though I don't feel any allegience to the human species, and a large part of me wants to crush a skull in my hands just because it's cold outside, and why do your compulsions have to be any better than mine just because more people have your compulsions, and I'm not sorry,and I've never been sorry for anything in my entire life, but I love you, and I hate when I fuck up, and I just want to be good at things, and I want to be good at making you happy. And oh G-d, why am I telling you any of this. Also, you know how much my sisters mean to me, so clearly you know I'm not apathetic I'm just muted.  "

because there's no way I would ever let myself be that exposed. Except maybe right after it rains and I'm still feeling  atypical, and I can just type it out on Tumblr where no one will really read it anyway. And maybe I want people to know and understand that when I say I don't know what I'm feeling, it's because I'm doing really really really hard work to figure it out.

And maybe that desire could ruin everything. Maybe I should never have made this post.

[blackcontemporaryart]

 Untitled (Club Couple), Kerry James Marshall.  2014 acrylic on PVC oanel, 61 x 61 —

Untitled, (Beach Towel) 2014 acrylic on PVC panel 60 7/8 x 72 5/8

[bigblackafrica-blog]

def one of my favs.

[femmefuckery]

Basic in: basic out

The human who becomes miraculously efficient at navigating the world as it exists- with its systems of oppression and ethical enigmas- will excrete, in every interaction, evidence of those systems and enigmas. Garbage in, garbage out. Basic bitches are as basic bitches do as basic bitches learn.

[thuginsince95-deactivated201411]

[ismokequiet-deactivated20180705]

under socialism everyone has to wear black skinny jeans. thats what socialism is. that is all marx was ever trying to say

[femmefuckery]

Chronically ill goddess is chronically ill.

[femmefuckery]

Early Evening Crone Thoughts

i) I need to build my whoretpholio like yesterday

ii) Would it be problematic/difficult for me to write books about queer masculinities, the intersection of male identities and power-based statuses, and the plethora of gender identities included in the male spectrum?

iii) Why don't I just write about the intersection of female identities and power-based statuses/socioeconomis contexts, and the plethora of gender identities included in the female spectrum?

iv) How can I get paid to be mean to dudes without encountering racism?

[femmefuckery]

Life Update:

Quitting dairy because I'm allergic and it's triggering my chronic pain like woah. MSG has made this transition bearable. 

[femmefuckery]

GRRRRLLLLL

Buying MSG was a really really good idea. That shit is cheap and now I don't hate life without butter.

[femmefuckery]

Hashem Yireh.

Peace, a balance;river

Emptied cistern with an open mouth

It is well with my soul

[sophisticantsophia-deactivated2]

Black Tumblr come hither

Reblog this so I can follow y’all with your perfect skin & hair

Amazing intellect & gorgeous smiles and all

[kingofthemorp-blog]

Yay another Black Tumblr unite post!

[jdotslack]

WE OUTCHEA

[becauseiamawoman-deactivated202]

Although it is easy to just sit back and accept that our media is more often than not completely messed up and problematic (which has its place, too), part of our duty as feminists is to demand better. We can’t just sit back and let the media do their own thing without critique. It is absolutely essential that we continually call for improvement — because if we don’t, who will? It is important to engage critically in the media we consume, to begin to create new avenues for better, and to reform and smash media structures that do us wrong.

3 Things Our Media Should Have — But Doesn’t (Because It’s So White Cis Heternormative) — Everyday Feminism (via becauseiamawoman)

[specialnights]

Fannie Lou Hammer and Ella Baker.

[femmefuckery]

Dental care is proof that the world is unjust and actively evil.

I don't have the money, time, and/or spoons to see a dentist regularly. So what's the next best way to handle gum disease?