Disclaimer

Though a "Diary" my online diary is a work of FICTION.

It may at times strongly reflect actual events of my life, often how I honestly perceived them and display my genuine reactions. But not always and everything contained within should be treated as a fiction.

This is also a personal diary, so by reading it you are violating my privacy. And as it is a personal diary you are not allowed to hold anything you read in it against me, as you shouldn't have been reading it anyway.

Also, this diary is not to be read by anyone who has gone out with me, would like to go out with me in the future, or suspects I may like to go out with them.






Click Here for the old site, as backed up by Wayback Machine (I have gone with the 2007 version as it is the latest that is still before vodafone crunched a bunch of my files)

Thursday, 27 October 2022

"What is a woman" things are flooding my twitter

 What is a woman


A woman contains multitudes

She is power in the face of patriarchy

She is whatever the fuck she wants to be


She is not limited by simple definitions

She is not limited


Don't try to contain her with your words



And there ends bad post-midnight impulse poetry without any thinking or planning.

Okay, that just happened because twitter has decided my interests are NZ Politic, Canadian COVID debates (for reasons I do not understand) and both sides of the trans rights culture war.  I understand the NZ politics part, as I followed some slighty lefty local news sources.  But the trans rights seems to be based only on a couple of celebrities I followed.

In other news my dad came to town and brought me a full box of minifigures from a Christchurch toyworld, and it proved to have three of each mini (which is the best outcome, two of some and four of others is irksome).  And he hung out a bit with helped with my feeling stupidly lonely.  And mostly it was without my sister also being there, she only had a couple of hours of deeply infuriating me by being self-righteous and awful.

I am still failing at mental health.  I have still failed to message my GP about how fast/slow I should be progressing the lowering of my pain meds (or if I should keep it up at all).
I am still a fail human.  Which will surprise no-one.

I should stop sexually objectifying Kevin McCloud, MBE, as he wanders construction sites and go to bed.  It is more than an hour past my bed time.  If not for twitter distractions I was on track to head to bed about three hours ago... how does that happen.

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