there is a moral calculus often made by supposedly progressive communities that considers the wrong sort of queer people expendable. so you get situations like the one with isabel fall, where a trans person wrote a thing that was powerful and angry and provocative and transgressive and paid for it. because she was not performing queerness in a domesticated way, because no one who wasn’t trans had the lived experience (and fuck, if that particular phrase isn’t a rusty knife in its own right) to understand an incandescent fucking metaphor when it was placed before them – because everyone thought they had the right to legislate trans identity and didn’t care who this person was – isabel fall was driven almost to physical suicide and entirely to ontological suicide, her writing effaced, largely by the very people who scream to the heavens that they are on the side of people like us. who cares about the conservatives? we know they are all assholes. that at least is a no-brainer. the so-called progressives we expected more from.
we need places where we can safely be monsters, machines and perverts without harming anyone, or exposing ourselves to harm – not the monsters, machines and perverts we are told we are, but the monsters, machines and perverts we need to explore being. we need to be allowed idealised forms immune to your shock. we need to be allowed to be us. we are not your property. we are not your fetishes. we need to get to choose who we are, without requiring your permission, for as it stands the revocation of your permission spells our end.
(featured clothing, as if it matters sole sa – headphone, pauldron t09, chemicoll gacha backpack/ a&y siren jacket, neo-victorian boots/ s.in love cocko cybersuit)
