Filed under poison

7 Thoughts on Women in Games

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And trans people, and queers, and everyone else who feels this.

I.

When I think of visibility, renown, people liking my work–the first thing that comes to my mind is that I have less chance of being doubted when I talk about abuse and harassment.

Less chance of suffering in silence.

I resent seeing everything as part of a power dynamic.

I resent this fixation on survival.

It dominates my vision, makes my eye sick.

II.

Women are turned against other women.

I feel sick when I think about it. I second-guess every disagreement I have with other women. I wonder how to disagree with other women in a culture where we’re encouraged to bully and undermine each other.

I feel disgusted and ashamed.

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it’s pretty problematic how you’re hiding at the center of the earth, weeping, limbless, blind, castrated, disemboweled, lobotomized,

i just feel like the act of you lying broken on the road, dead, face eaten by birds, is a personal attack on me

i keep having nightmares about this horrible dystopian world of constant pain and fear but i blink and im back in the rave

i keep thinking about the grime n skyscrapers n pipes n smog but it isnt real
im buried in concrete and shadows in my head but it isnt real

i know only the music is real

in my nightmare i am a gel-masked operative from that dystopia sent to save us from the future past

and i’m running through the rave deeply confused because i’m half in the persona shell they implanted, half in my real(?) dystopia mind

the persona they implanted is much happier than my dystopia memories, its like a golden morning where what happened never happened

but i keep getting these headaches in the bathroom and im back in my skintight rubber operative suit with the purple or green gel-mask

and i have a thin gun assembled from several everyday rave toys

and i have no idea who or what has to die, if the gun is even real

my anorexic body keeps shaking and sweating, it looks like a spider

my anorexic body in the rubberized agent suit with the insect eye goggles and the gel-mask, lean and angular and phasing

the bass drop fills my limbs with deadly purpose like a bloodstream prophecy

maybe i’ll just always be running through that crowd, half-skinned, half-brained, wondering if i’m an agent or a happy person

morning light revealed the full extent of my disease

and i cried because i knew things would never be the same for me

i feel most alive doing basic things like eatingm pissing, breathing, i get hung up on each breath that passes like i’m inside cathedral

just feeling food go inside my body and get broken apart is overwhelming and sacred, sludge that melts in my internal acids, becomes energy

each breath comes from a fragile throat with no armoring

the exchange of fluids with my environment—heavier, lighter, balanced, swollen, expelled, endless calibration

the intense immense pressure of thought, consciousness centred tightly around the top of my body, all my thoughts radiating from one point

i feel insane for not being distributed, for having all my chaotic thoughts knotted around a single physical substrate

queer shopping

going outside is like being thrown naked into a world-sized kennel full of bloodthirsty screaming dogs until you finish every mundane task on your list

fucking go into the store with the woman and help her buy the goddamn clothes

i live in the trash where no one can hurt me, i cannot be reduced because i am the lowest of the low, i am faceless and indestructible

destroy that which was made to be destroyed, i am fragments, detritus, debris, the only possible punishment is to rebuild me

my orifices are at the apex of their disgorgement, my body is fully integrated with its future degradation

the trash cannot hear you, i am the trash, i am earless, only emanating

Queer Pissing

A Malaysian feminist zine asked me to write something for them so I sent this in.

they tell us our bodies cannot cross
into the blue rectangles, behind the triangles.
they turn geometry into the enemy
when the enemy is warm and breathing

they make pissing
they make the water in our bodies the enemy
every time we see the two blue doors and think
I’m not Woman enough for that one
and defeated go to the other one

pissing takes makeup and long hair and dresses
pissing takes huge breasts and swollen vulvae
cartoonishly huge sexual characteristics
pink bows pinned, stabbed through floating tits

tear the doors from the frames and leave two surprised eyes full of porcelain and stall doors
smash each toilet and urinal
smash the sinks
let the water flood
go outside and shit on the ground
make tributaries of your piss
put your guts into the world

i’m a carcass notched by ink
they’re licking the lips of their eyes

i’m surrounded by white men hoary and tall as trees
but with brittle, knotted bones that creak as they totter.
the wind is rising
it sounds like women’s voices
some high and clear like whirling chimes
others deep and warm like bog bass.
the wind is taut
and their bones are warping in the wake of each voice
their marrow is splitting and it sounds good

beautiful white people

beautiful white people fucking as guns flood into the room from offscreen

beautiful white people fucking above me and their fucking powers a long metal pole with a sharpened end that impales my heart

A POEM ABOUT VOTING

what the hell is in this toilet, is that–is that votes?

who the hell put all these votes in the toilet i need to piss

tell me to vote, tell me to stab myself with a rusty screwdriver

relationships will be torn over not voting in this bloated non-event

let’s vote, let’s slit throats to make the sun move across the sky, let’s burn people to make the harvest come

i want a great harvest this year, i want the fuckleberries to come in bountifully, so vote vote vote votoorrgrhgh

what’s that horrible huge infected horse cock doing swinging back and forth between your legs “OH THAT’S MY POLITICS”

this world where people are not human and just convey information and energy for a hideous process

i like the phrase “cast a vote” because it evokes “cast a spell” which has the same chance of making any real difference

system where we hook our brains up to machine and it casts a vote with power = to our despair #alternativevotingsystems
did the people who created obama know that nobama was a possible word…back to the old drawing board

i’m hacking the factory that the presidents are made in

im hacking the presidents to like fruit juice

LOOKS LIKE VOTES BACK ON THE MENU BOYS

I twist the valve and votes pour out of a massive pipe. Liberals come crawling across the wasteland to the old watering hole.

“anyone with $26 in parts and an eighth-grade science education would be able to manipulate the outcome of an election.” im ready 2 vote

comical cartoon of men in black n white striped shirts and masks toting a voting machine out the back door

lower the voting age to 1 and only let babies vote, live in a world ruled by babies

They open up the envelope to find out who won: what the fuck——–it’s PORPENTINE????!?!?!?!?!?

As Presidentrix, I will restore chaos to this orderly land

As Presidentrix, I will destroy all FUCKERS

As Presidentrix I will lower the tariff on ICE MAGIC

As Presidentrix I will RAZE THE SUBURBS

RAZE THE FUCKING SUBURBS TO THE GODDAMN GROUND

PUSH OVER A VENDING MACHINE AND PISS IN THE CAPITALISM HOLE

as YOUR NEW PRESIDENT I WILL BURN EEVRTYING

election day more like ELECTION DONT #hardhitting #thefacts #bam

i tried to vote but someone stole my vote from my vote canister and now i have to go to Ratfucker Alley to get it back

the mutants are piling up stolen votes in the old library ballroom! fuckin thieves!

I confidently thrust my ballot into the voting machine only for my arm to get EVISCERATED UP TO THE ELBOW #electiondayhorrorstories

I try to vote but elephants charge down the street and knock me into a 3rd story window where I must live forever #electiondayhorrorstories