she barks, she bites

I have been called a bitch on multiple occasions, for a multitude of reasons. It’s mostly by men, aggressively. And it’s occasionally by women, affectionately. And they’re almost always right. I was raised by a pair of smart assholes, who were raised by more pairs of smart assholes, and so on and so forth. Assholery is an inherited artform from a lineage much longer than … Continue reading she barks, she bites

from the diary of an object

I found out about my loss of human status on a place where I post pictures of myself in cute dresses and pretty sunsets.

So instead of feeling like the world is spinning, I feel more like my place in it is permanent and still. Not as the living, breathing lifeform that I was five seconds ago.

But as a stone-still statue that they’ve tapped their gavels like wands to turn me into. Continue reading from the diary of an object