pinned post for the meantime since i am working on my desktop html theme 👩🏻💻💭❕
#️⃣ blog tags
💜 i will like tomorrow’s new me
— extra anthys
💖 someday is today; together we shine
— utenanthy
🙈 hello to you too, chu chu!
— a wild chu chu appears
✨ allegory allegorier allegoriest
— crossover/AUs/anthy's "cosplays"
✒️ gold plated shangri la
— anthys based on OG manga & palette
📺 perpetual motion machine
— anthys based on the anime & palette
📽️ endless history of the middle ages
— anthys based on the film & design
🔮 in the interval between two mirrors
— non-crossover AUs, redesigns, & fanon interpretations
✉️ man can also only convey human nature
— answered mail & replies
📒 an operating table, a wrecked ship, the pure flow of the play ⋅⋅⋅
— non-art posts (like this one !) art notes, & rambles
💐 stamen, pistil, a small seed ⋅⋅⋅ the children of philosophy
— & other ensemble cast members
🆔 that we may see what may not be seen
— art with description text
📜 abraxas ~ the sunlit garden
— long posts
📇 until the day comes when i’ll understand everything
— lyric of the campus
— birth records, baptismal records, records of death
— HD files of 少女革命ウテナ (1997), アドゥレセンス黙示録 (1999), & Manga Series
🗃️ the inversion of me and my room
— strelitzia: thoughts on transfem!saionji & transmasc!nanami
— 🎠 how to contribute to the cycle of violence
— september 6th finale: do you love the color of utena?
🪑 mikage seminar
— school ID #D-13: please fill out the application form at the desk
⚠️ there are good spirits and there are bad spirits
— tagged content warnings: #gore cw #blood cw #violence cw #csa cw #grooming cw #sexual assault cw #genderbend cw #transphobia cw #self harm cw #suicide cw
🐵: issssssss a collab with my girlfriend :3cccccc i sketched a verssion of my transfem!anthy x transmasc!utena designs from some time ago ... i love how doefully cutieful my lovely transformed my sketch 🥺🥺🥺 her nose and poutyness is everything 2 me ................
🐰: i like being included in things :) i like anthy :) she is my dear deer. thank you helloanthy for including me!
🐵: dude. ur literally my girlfriend why r u addressing me so formally like "helloanthy"
🐰: okay thank you [REDACTED FIRST NAME MIDDLE NAME LAST NAME] for including me!
didn’t anybody tell you that too many secrets make you sick ? good thing it is i, mrs helloanthy* and i am here to tell you that. you can tell me your secrets and it will make me stronger every day. why not start with your most secret number (bank number or other personal information is extra healthy).
* i’m not a woman but i am helloanthy’s wife so that is what i go by. i took over because the real helloanthy is too sick with something other than secrets to type on this ipad
hello everypony ! happy new year of the fire horse 🔥🐎‼️‼️‼️ i hope everyone is doing well ❤️ and if not may nothing but good health and fortune come your way in the near future !
i wanted to post some art today but unfortunately my ipad died and my laptop is also on the brink of death refusing to turn on and stay on half the time :+( i am quite lucky its not attempting to give me epilepsy right now as i am typing this ahaha .. small mercy ...
ah, but besides wishing các bạn chúc mừng năm mới & vạn sự như ý, this post is a unusual kind for me.
you see, quite recently, i was able to experience true happiness for the first time. i feel a bit embarrassed admitting so, considering my age, because the reality ... the experience of it was so simple and mundane i dont know how i went this long missing it. i didn't recognise it at first. it was only after a few days without wishing for death that i woke up, free from nightmares that i burst into tears. because i was still happy. i woke up happy ! haha .. oh my god. even trying to type it out is making me tear up again at the memory
it was like ... i cant believe people just feel like this. i felt like a real person. i made a new friend moving here in one of my neighbors. they'v been very kind to me ... so i told them about this revelation and thanked them for being part of my journey getting here. and because i wasnt sure, i said i hope if they havent experienced what i was describing before either, that they do soon in kind. (thankfully, they informed they hav .. but still.)
i wanted to thank everyone here too, if you see this- that has sent me kind messages throughout the years. you kno ... i am not religious exactly, but i am spiritual. i do believe somewhat in the power of prayer, and i do believe that every kindness and thought i hav ever recieved has accumulated to this
iv been happy before, but the difference is everytime i experienced what i thought was the peak of such i thought to myself "i wish i could die now, in this happiness" i thought, "yup thats good enough ! time to call it quits before it goes all down hill from here again"
that morning, i woke up and realised it was all worth it. just for this. and that the only way i could honor that happiness is to keep going forward, to find happier days waiting for me like this one that i couldnt possibly ever imagine existed. because its only by my continued choice to keep going that i was able to reach it. whether i tried my hardest to give up or not
im grateful for being alive this long. im grateful for all the magnitudes of kindness and love i have recieved in between all of the pointless humiliation, pain, and torture. im grateful that so many people are able to connect, find meaning and worth in my art even if it seems silly or invaluable to the people who raised me that only saw my artistic ability as a mean for revenue and not expression
and i am grateful for the studio apartment i live in with my love, that has been shielding us and our dog from the rain the past few days while i hav been too sick to do any new years festivities
i said earlier this post is an unusual one for me, not because of anything i hav said up until this point but because i would like to request anyone that has given kindness to me before, if you could redirect it to my friend sky
she is currently homeless after being kicked out by her abusive mother. culturally she does not celebrate lunar new years, but spiritually it doesnt sit right with me that she has nothing to start the year out with if i can help in any way. if you have anything to spare to help towards getting a motel room for the night, an umbrella, or just a water, her cashapp is $SkylerChayrez333
otherwise, please pray for my friend and keep her in your thoughts. she is a former SW and does not wish to return to dancing as her last resort because she is actively being predated on by local club owners/traffickers. her line of work itself is not conducive to maintaining her sobriety either ,which she has been working extremely hard to maintain above all else
i only hope that i am able to send her way some of the strength & kindness i have recieved ,so that she may also reach a even greater happiness than the one i hav just come to know
thank you for reading 💝 regardless, if youve made it this far: từ tận đáy lòng, mong bạn mạnh khỏe, cả về thể chất lẫn tinh thần. mọi điều hanh thông với mã đáo thành công 🐎💨
idk what to say besides i hav 5 million WIPS and everytime i look at them the chorus to evvanescences bring me to life loops in my head probably because i dont hav the lyrics memorised but its the sentiment of like SAAAAVE MEEEE
we got a printer recently n i made som stickies :+) but then i realised i hav nowhere to stick these so theyv just been sitting on the printer/desk lol
can i be honedt im feeling very vulnerable right now can someone wish me good luck on my job interview tomorrow ..... my neuroses r acting up and i really want this job ...................... also i mids my gifkfrjdn
can i be honedt im feeling very vulnerable right now can someone wish me good luck on my job interview tomorrow ..... my neuroses r acting up and i really want this job ...................... also i mids my gifkfrjdn
i hav no internet besides my phone and i ran out of my hotspot wifi so i can only take pictures instead of uploading from my tablet lmao 😔 i hope this looks alright thru a normal screen ... i rly dobt like uploadi ng things from my phone bc whenever i go back to view it on desktop or tablrt any other device itll be like a completely different palette and 47 pixels ....................................................
anthy during black rose arc catfishing mikage every night and then going to school w utena rosebriding during the day how i imagine she looked at her brother when she was finally about to take a well deserved nap and akio tells her to do some other esoteric fuckshit last minute before silently going to get 30 wooden hairclips and painting them different colors
What it really comes down to is this: I am angry. This is the first time in the, maybe, five-odd years I’ve been in fandom that I’ve admitted this. You can read between the lines in my past writing to discern this affect. A careful reader may have correctly assumed that just as surely I have reacted with distress to harm, I have also reacted with a desire to harm others.
I once wrote, discussing whitewashing in fandom and the public spectacle it produces:
but the fact of the matter is that despite all this–i do feel [pain], and i feel compelled to evoke it. maybe it’s some sort of petulant resistance to theory/via theory. i cannot prove to you anything i say about my own experience of pain; i talk around the shape of the pain and the places we have warped around it.
It is almost grotesquely vulnerable, in retrospect. That is the performance that made sense, in response to injury. I hurt. Let me tell you how. Please believe me. I offered no steps for redress. I think I already knew, at twenty-one, something I feel more acutely at twenty-five: public vulnerability often just gives people more ways to hurt you. I did not want to be disappointed again. I think I wrote it anyway, even anticipating it would change nothing, because I wanted to make visible that there was an emotional toll to whitewashing. I wanted at least to cry out in pain, to do my due diligence as a victim of sorts, even if I don’t think of myself in those terms.
There is no catharsis for me in that essay anymore. Noble suffering has little appeal to me anymore, emotionally as well as practically. Now that I rarely post publicly, I express myself more honestly as well as, frankly, rudely. On private accounts, I mock fanartists who lighten the hair and eyes of their favorite characters. I ridicule fanfiction writers whose fantasies trivialize the suffering of people of color (whatever type of fantasy you’re imagining right now, it’s worse). I vent my frustration. But paradoxically, the more I express myself, the more powerless I feel. Because when it comes down to it, I’m just a hater.
Nietzsche calls this ressentiment. In Genealogy of Morals, he names “a resentment experienced by creatures who, deprived as they are of the proper outlet of action, are forced to find their compensation in an imaginary revenge.” This concept has often been used in popular discourse today to put down what its detractors might call “grievance studies,” laughingly imagining modern social justice as nothing but a “slave morality” that emerges out of jealousy towards the white upper class.
But I think there’s something productive to salvage from this term. I turn next, actually, to Frantz Fanon. Brief note here: I am not comparing fandom racism to the institutions of slavery or colonization that Fanon critiques in their violence, dehumanization, or intensity. Rather, I am suggesting that since we already have a theorist of psychic structures that impose feelings of inferiority, powerlessness, and resentment in racialized subjects, we should look to him.
Anyway. In Black Skin, White Masks, Fanon argues that the Hegelian lord-bondsman dialectic (in which “Self-consciousness exists by itself and for itself,” always seeking recognition from the other) fails to be applicable in Fanon’s contemporary Black context. After all, while Hegel acknowledges that mutual recognition is impossible in an unequal relationship, in Hegel’s dialectic, it is the lord’s desire for recognition from the bondsman that elevates the bondsman. There is no such desire for recognition by white men vis a vis their Black slaves; moreover, when some semblance of recognition ultimately came in the form of abolition, it tended to be a unilateral white decision rather than the result of the dialectic being resolved.
Fanon continues that while white men will claim there is no difference between them, Black men will know keenly that there is. Those who have been subjected want a fight, Fanon writes. “Unable ever to be sure whether the white man considers him consciousness in-itself-for-itself, [the Black man] must forever absorb himself in uncovering resistance, opposition, challenge.” He urges that therefore one must not be simply reactional, trapped in that cycle of constant opposition, but actional for liberation to occur. He cites active revolutionary movements around the world in his conclusion, building solidarity with those who fight against oppression everywhere.
Now it feels very dramatic to recount all this to you. I suppose I am trying to legitimize and universalize my desire for a fight today, while acknowledging its limits. I have been trapped in a cycle of constant reaction for the past five years. I see something, I get angry, and I vent my frustration. I see something, I get angry, and I vent my frustration. This is fine, on some levels. This is kind of how social media keeps you engaged in general. And I don’t think the answer to my problems is to follow Fanon literally and take up armed struggle against people who draw Shen Qingqiu looking like green eyes white dragon. And, finally, fandom is inherently a space for reaction against a canon. The real question is whether I can do something transformative with my anger.
The problem, of course, with that question is that it pisses me off. A lot of things do, and I’m not particularly sorry about it. But that question upsets me because it’s the responsible thing to do. I’m tired of being responsible. I manage my feelings as best I can. I phrase my complaints in ways that will make people think I’m reasonable. I write long vulnerable essays that I design to protect the very people I’m criticizing from being hurt the way they hurt me.
And while I’m writing the most honest thing I can manage, I also feel that it’s the useless thing to do. While I’m writing a namedrop-y essay, let’s bring out Marx: “The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. The point, however, is to change it.” And do my essays change anything? I don’t think they change anything more than my private venting does. I never intended them to change anything, actually. I wrote them because I wanted to feel less alone, and I wanted people like me to feel less alone too. But feelings can only get you so far. Especially when you can’t acknowledge all of them.
How does change actually happen, then, if not through Tumblr essays? Realistically, we all need to learn how to speak so others will listen. The burden of minimizing one’s feelings in order to be taken seriously ought to fall primarily on white fans, to call in their friends when they inevitably misstep and to be called in, in turn, when they also inevitably misstep. I need other people to be willing to risk relationships and reputations to do the right thing. Which is a big ask. But I’m asking it this time.
I didn’t even really want to write this essay. I actually wanted to write about how we perform race in digital spaces, with an eye to sinophilia, cultural appropriation, and extraction (I promise my take would have been new, for those of you who also thought you left those discussions behind in the 2010s). I didn’t want to write to white people, for once. I really wanted to spend time with a flawed text, pick apart its failures and slippages in meaning, and see what I had to say back. People of color rarely get to “talk back” in these spaces, and that enforced silence on racial performance is very frustrating to me for a lot of reasons, including selfishly because I find critique to be as central to my writing practice as my creativity.
But I’m writing this instead because things got in the way. I had the same hesitations that I did four years ago when I wrote the essay I referenced above. I was concerned, like many fan studies scholars before me have been, with the ethics of directing undue scrutiny to a single amateur fan. Because, as always, others’ safety supersedes my anger. Which, naturally, made me angrier. Which, therefore, led to the creation of a piece where I could express it, theorize it, and do nothing about it.
“IDK GUYS I JUST FEEL SO CASTRATED SOMETIMES.... “ I wrote this afternoon, in reference to my own anger. “and i know that's just what being asian american is like. but who's up feeling castrateddddddd,” I continued, a tongue in cheek reference to David Eng’s Racial Castration (which is more about Asian American emasculation generally). I was mostly talking about my feeling of powerlessness and my inability to feel like a whole person because of it. But there’s a much more relevant recent piece by Eng, one he did with Shinhee Han: “Racial Rage, Racial Guilt: The Uses of Anger in Asian America.” In it, they extend the historical framework of Asian racial triangulation between Black and white labor to the psychic dimension. Asian Americans, they argue, tend to internalize and carry the guilt and shame of others.
I’m still working out how I feel about the piece as a general theory, for the record, because I have serious concerns with how they position Asian interests in relation to Black interests (if the two can be so wholly separated). But part of the composite case history they relay was deeply affecting to me. Clara, the composite patient, at one point confides in Han: “I am sick of beating myself up for every single thing I do. I live in terror of making mistakes. Even when I do something well, I doubt myself and don’t trust myself.” When the two explore the feeling, it is rooted in a childhood accusation of plagiarism, in which her teacher believed she was not capable of creating high quality writing because English is her second language, while her parents deferred to the teacher. Although eventually exonerated, the hurt stayed. “When I suggested that all this time she had been holding her parents’ guilt for failing to protect her innocence as well as the teacher’s shame projected onto her, Clara burst into tears,” Han explains. Clara struggled to feel angry, as she deserved to, because she internalized the consciences and projections of others. She is a receptacle for others’ emotions; this is true on multiple levels since she is also a constructed case history. She was born to hold others’ feelings.
I don’t just struggle with the affect of anger, one’s reaction to a threat. I also struggle with shame, or one’s reaction to failure. It is rooted in my feeling that I have failed to change anything. I once hoped that if I simply catalogued enough, learned enough, wrote enough, that the knowledge would find a way to coalesce into some meaning so undeniable in its truth that— Look, it’s an infantile fantasy. All that really resulted is that I have an incredible mental Rolodex of racist Twitter artists that I can never put to use. Knowledge wasn’t power itself, just knowledge of power.
The marketplace of ideas is a bullshit concept. But I wasn't even trying to win in it. I was approaching it obliquely, in some form of trickle-down narrative change. If I simply write good fic, characterization I like will win. If I simply write good essays, politics I like will win. It's only when I say my innermost desires plainly that it’s obvious to me how naive they are. Like, hooray, you’re disenchanted with incrementalism. Should we throw a party? Should we invite Lenin?
I’ve been circling the problem of catharsis in this essay. How will I help you process my feelings of rage and shame? (More importantly, how will I process them for myself?) What is to be done about any of this? In some ways, I gave the answer away halfway through: I need you to say something too, because there are a lot of people who don’t listen to me who will listen to you. This is true no matter who you are, reading this. So I suppose the reason this essay continued past that solution, is that I want to make visible the stakes.
The vast majority of my posts are now on private accounts. I miss talking publicly, making new friends, seeing new art and fics and fannish joy. But the fact of the matter is that I cannot express myself freely as it currently stands. I am forced to manage others’ racial failures for them. I am not alone in this. Like, I’m not the only person who notices or experiences racism in fandom!!! The toll that your silences have taken is spread across countless people of color, who have slowly begun to withdraw from public life. Because, frankly, it’s embarrassing to love something so much that does not love you back. It is embarrassing to be hurt by something that never loved you at all. My heart is resilient enough to bear this. But we all have limits.
Okay, that’s enough of “one day I’ll be gone and you’ll be SORRY!!!!!” 13 Reasons Why type bullshit. That’s my FOR REAL final expression of ressentiment, my desire to make other people feel the guilt and shame I do. It’s beautiful how writing can bring people together. Or something.
I leave you now with something concrete you can do to temporarily allay that feeling, and materially help some of the most vulnerable people around us: some good friends over at @kfsf-initiatives are raising money to help a young man named Ahmed keep his community sheltered amidst adverse weather. Here is the link for the campaign. It’s very close to its goal: https://www.paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=943USDAM3Q2D8 It is efforts like this that keep me believing in the people that participate in fandom. I would like to help make our online spaces more equitable, and addressing people’s offline needs first is a prerequisite to that. Thank you. That’s all from me.
edit: (running back in a day later) THANK YOU x2....... That fundraiser was able to exceed its goal due to many donations of around $20, and has closed. kfsf-initiatives does regular small campaigns to help Ahmed, his sister Shimaa, and their family and community stay sheltered and fed. If you are still interested in giving towards that goal, here is a new link for the final installment of money for shelter supplies: https://www.paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=GUPTTJYB4DXNC. Now I log off again. Bye!
myy girlfriend took me to see tinashe and kim petras at san fransisco pride block party over the weekend :+) it was my first music festival ........ and pride ... i had a lot of fun ! was definitely not dressed for it though haha. i didnt .. think .. about ... that we would be standing outside in the sun for 9 hours ......... but it got a lot cooler near night and i was at the front which im assuming is a lot cooler than if i was surrounded by human body heat from all sides ........
[earlier that day i was explaining to my gf that penguin colonies huddle for warmth in the winter and they take turns rotating from standing outside to inside so every birdy gets to be the warmest in the middle ... and he said while we were standing near the front this is like the opposite of that .......... btw dont factcheck me im not a penguin expert]
it was also bearable because my girlfriend is taller than me enough i stayed in their shade hahaha i felt bad though 3 hours in ... while i was glad the sun was out of my way i wish i couldv returned the favour because he got ..... so sunburnt ghjfgd
anyway i also drew our outfits we wore to pride yesterday ... uh ....... we dont ...... look it lmao. MY excuse is that i dont hav any rainbow or colorful clothes to comprise an outfit with the color scheme of Any flag and uh ... i asked my girlfriend if he wanted to defend himself he said it didnt occur to him to put together an outfit. but we were holding hands and obviously looked q - GF just now :"we still looked gay as fuck tho."
also he wwas watching me draw utenanthy in our ootds and commented that [anthy] outfit looks so cool while [utena] looks like a tourist and i had to point out thats very funny bc hes actually lived in san fransisco . remember everyone . dont judge a book by its outfit ... the next time you see someone in ur city that looks like a tourist, it may just be a butch who doesnt giv a fuck what theyr wearing. and also forgot their suns creen :+)
30.06.2025 im high how dio i renioji fuck todays anthy !
my girllfriend absdi thought it would be interesrting if i saw how i well could draw if i was inebriated specifically ummmm i uh whart the hell i was saying idf i was drunk or high or crossfaded how i would draw um idf i was crossfaded as in driunk and high so i would like you to know i anmmmmmmmm defineyely enmbarrrasingly driunk AND high right boew im going to make it untebloggabke but i promise i eill try a better rendition of it when im sober to make up forrrr making you suffer thru a post of when im high and drnk okayyyy im also going OK now I switch to voice audio because I think I’m becoming too drunk and high to be able to type anymore with my Apple pen but I just want to specify the height auntie in the very corner is I’m done buying my girlfriend from when I was absent from when I was going to do something unrelated OK I need you to know that my girlfriend drew that high and the heart in the corner that’s very important to me. You have to know you have to know that hallow Anthony’s girlfriend also contributed to the Ampey OK how do I end this OK how do I un-this how do I how do I end voice to text? How do I am voice to text? 
i struggled with captioning this and decided to just say ''untitled'' bc i rly didnt kno what to say abt it in the end but im glad there r others who saw and understood anyways :+) and with the purview of the tags to help with articulating ... shoutout
