dans la seuil de la porte.
…today i dressed as though winter were over; as though i cared about this holiday everyone keeps talking about regardless of their sentiments towards it. the kitsch factor is irresistable, though, so i dig up the stained dress i never wear, with a bow-so-girly, so sweet; the opposite of what i feel i am these days. i take pretentious photos of myself alone in my house to try and get a sense of what i feel i am, how i want to frame/present/represent myself. project myself via digital digits-all on the internet. rumours about politics and “legitimacy” and sex keep knocking at my door and i put them all to rest, lay the cards on the table, finally. fuck ‘em, literally and figuratively, i suppose.
with her lips on the back of my neck i thought of his face. he asks me to be his love, his daily love, son amour quotidien, son amour de tout les jours. why am i so shocked by the idea that someone would want to make their life with me? frightened, even, by the idea that someone, anyone could want to (or want to try to) tolerate me for a lifetime. “le chat brulée par l’eau chaude a peur de l’eau même froide.”
quoi? “once bitten, twice shy” sounds so much nicer in french. he knows that my hesitation(s) have nothing to do with my love for him, but it is cumbersome nonetheless. perhaps i get away with a lot because there are words i don’t yet understand, and words he does not understand. he can remember youth, though, but it is hard to express that fear of the unknown to someone who has lived in the same city for fifteen years, the same apartment for nine, and one old lover for 8. spoiled is the only way i can think to describe myself these days. maybe it will come back and bite me in the ass in the not too distant future but at the moment it is blissful decadence. or naive. (probably the latter)
you ask me where i stand, and i show you.
15th-Feb-2008 12:32 am
tearing up re-reading things i wrote years ago. i forget these feelings come back every spring.
deleted my facebook yesterday.
have been on pinterest for all of a month and have found it has already triggering and overwhelmingly fatphobic/hetero-centric/awful.
thinking about people i’ve known online for 5-10 yrs this week. thinking about a zine. thinking about privacy, intimacy via screens.
trigger warning: discussions of online abuse
incident 1. yesterday, there was a facebook shitstorm about some colonialist ad for a québécois event that’s not even worth mentionning. i should not have been surprised by the racist defensive bros that started calling people idiots who said “hey woah that’s kind of disrespectful to native people” but yet, even after all these years, i was. and i decided to message someone who was particularly belligerent/missing the point entirely directly and calmly, and received the token “fucking bitch telling people what to do, like are people not allowed to wear liederhosen?” derailing reply. as in, i sent three sentences, and received two thousand word messages back. i responded saying “please do not contact me again,” and received another. deleted before i read it, blocked him, reported him for harrassment.
incident 2. last week, when i was on the train back from ottawa with my friend steph, i got a particularly vitriolic hateful comment on my blog, and she was shocked when i told her how i often i get told i am a worthless human being who dresses like “a fucked up pretentious cunt.” i showed her my new strategy. 1. do not read the comment in its entirety, as tempting as it may be. 2. look up the IP address, just for curiosity’s sake. if it is threatening, track that IP address. 3. delete the comment. put it out of your mind. if still feeling bummed, watch a cute animal video.
i’ve been writing online for well over a decade now, and i feel like i’ve finally learned my limits. now i don’t even read those hateful messages. as soon as i get the gist of it, within the first line or two, i press delete. now, i’m increasingly pressing block as well, and even reporting for abuse even though the vast majority of cases lead to absolutely nothing changing.
on the nicer side, incident 3: i said some nice things about elisha on the bitch blog and they sent me back the nicest email, telling me how good it made them feel. and in turn, i felt all warm and fuzzy! need to do that more often.
i think part of why i’ve gotten to where i am, in terms of respect online. i don’t comment unless i mean it. i only comment on things i’ve taken the time to read in entirety, and only if i feel it’s amazing or i could contribute something to the conversation. a lot of people find me via those comments. and now with disqus’ handy profile settings i can see the great feedback they often get too, all over the internet.
reminding myself how important it is for me to share the positive, and not dwell on the bullshit. there will always be jerks. i have to deal with them often enough in my day to day life that i shouldn’t give them more time than they deserve online.