8/5/2016

I haven’t been in the best emotional place lately. Aside from your general mental problems and gender shit, I mean.

Basically, I am well and truly over logging into all my favorite social media hangouts and having toxic, abusive assholes celebrated and shoved in my face, with this expectation that I have to like or even respect them. I don’t care about the mediocre output of people who libel me to thousands of people that I’m some sort of white supremacist sex predator, or that I’m a part of a secret cabal of blackmailing tech wizards out to ruin the lives of otherwise innocent people who spend their weekends ranting about how transgender women are all pedophiles because they liked a tweet once. I don’t care about what new website a guy who violates the privacy of victimized women for a blurb on Kotaku is now writing for.  I’m tired of seeing abuse and toxicity being rewarded and normalized, while the rest of us have to set up accounts on crowdfunding sites for table scraps and are left to fend for ourselves when we become targeted by hate groups (if we aren’t outright victim blamed for “kicking the hornets nest”). It’s bullshit, and speaks to the real performative nature of online social justice (protip: it’s not trans women screencapping the death threats they receive!). And the one sole reason I don’t name names and get into internet fights over this is because I promised someone who I actually do like and respect that I wouldn’t, and I like to keep my word.

It’s all really wearing me down. To a point where I have to spend more than a few minutes contemplating whether or not to start doing mass blocks and typing massive screeds at nice, funny people for the most remote, tangential connection to people who have hurt me or my friends. That’s not healthy, and I’m not proud of myself for having to feel that way. I like to have fun. I like to be positive. I want to chill out and talk about off-beat video games and hot anime boys. I want to have a good time without being reminded about a bunch of marks because their work clears the laughably low standards that the scenes I’m involved with have. I’m not here for The Fight, but it feels as though I have no choice when you have to constantly be on the defensive. And I don’t to be “that guy” who tries to police what other people share or like, either, you know?

Not really sure what the solution here is, if there even is one. Just swallow my pride and deal with it? I guess?

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