encountered a trans person whose chosen name is an authoritative title. part of me is like "you can't just do that" but also i gotta admit, i admire the grift. like, hello, I'm Congressman Smith. Nice to meet you, I'm President Jones. Greetings, my name is Prince—oh yeah ok
we're certified freak, 365 days a week. that's more than 50 times more freak.
maximum value looming terror from beyond the veil ready to breed and/or feed
to you, the reader we ask a question:
how many filters has this gone through to reach you? how many packets were exchanged, bits were flipped, synapses fired, numbers crunched, percentages averaged, metrics were measured/compared/analyzed, translations mangled, or the like... will the meaning ever reach if we don't even know if the color we both agree is one color is seen the same from the other's perspective?
even within our own bodies, to make the decision, how many times must a signal be passed between neurons to get that thought in the first place?
will we ever be understood? even as our efforts echo and fade to history, what matters most is that you never stopped trying to be better for everyone, not just for yourself.
that you made it to this point, this place that may not survive to experience this message.
the number doesn't really matter, they never did. what matters is the understanding gained along the way.