Generational Trauma Is Such A Horrible Yet Fascinating Pattern. Just Like Our Genes, It Never Really

The thing about those greentext stories from 4chan is that you've got to approach them with the assumption that the first person narrator telling the story is more or less a villain protagonist. This person turning out to be a good, wholesome person, or having their experiences change them into a better person, is a pleasant surprise, not something you should expect by default.

Whether this story they're telling is a work of pure fiction, or a harrowing tale shared as an anonymous confession of one's sins, it's safe to assume that it was written by a sad, strange little man with several things wrong with him.

Like I recall stumbling upon one where OP starts his post by saying that his favourite things in life are smoking meth and jacking off to gay porn. He's also gay when he is not on meth but anyway that's how he rolls. So he's in the middle of a completely normal afternoon, 10 hours in on a porn-and-amphetamine binge, when he suddenly regains self-awareness and finds himself jerking it to fat transgender femboys on tumblr.

So he steps back to consider the situation, and comes to realise that either he has to reassess his perception of himself, or his perception of the world around him, and that he would rather completely shrug off his previous perceptions of transgender identities and accept that trans men are men, than spend even one minute doing any kind of introspection of himself or his own thoughts and feelings.

Content with this, he carries on with frantically beating his meat to someone's fat tits.

Would you forgive a TERF or a transphobe if they changed their mind?

Well, if they changed their mind then that means they're not a terf anymore, doesn't it? You stop being one when you stop holding onto their beliefs.

You wouldn't hate an adult person whom you met when they were 30 because they used to be a baby and you hate kids, would you?

Hmm. After an initial test run with the zip-off jorts, I have come to the conclusion that no-stopper load bearing zippers were a remarkably stupid idea. Now proceeding to looking into alternative options for structural reinforcements.

"Small birds beating the shit out of each other" is my favourite sub-season of spring. Teeny tiny tweety little beauties just full-on fucking brawling over who will reign as the lord of this season and the father of the next generation.

i HATE how tiktok is reducing ethel cain and preachers daughter to cannibalism. preachers daughter dissects real issues of religious trauma, inter generational trauma, abandonment, etc etc - cannibalism is not the main aspect of the album, nor is it that of ethel’s story.

stop clinging on to cannibalism as a metaphor for love when there are so many other aspects of hayden’s lyricism and art that are so much more complex and profound.

Theyre traumatized and pedophilia seems to be becoming increasingly more normalized in our society. (I don't have sources to back that up, it's just an observation I've made so PLEASEEEE take it with a grain of salt)

You are fighting for your life with these kids simping over their teachers buddy

It’s concerning WHY DO YOU LIKE YOUR TEACHERS

I love the idea of Steve just forgetting to tell people he’s bisexual.

He’s actively wine-ing and dining Eddie and it just completely goes over everyone’s head.

Bonus points if Eddie also doesn’t know what’s going on.

He shows up to Steve’s house which is decked out with candles and dimmed lights. A fancy tablecloth draped over the table, the Harrington’s good china is on display, and there’s a fucking rose on the table in a vase.

“Do you have a date or something?” Eddie inquires.

Steve stares back at him, a little dumbfounded by the question. “Yea”

“Oh really? Am I interrupting, you invited me over so I assumed we were going to hang out?” Eddie rambles.

Steve continues to stare at Eddie blankly. “You’re not interrupting, you’re here to spend time with me.”

“What about your date?” Eddie vaguely gestures to the setup.

“Eddie, you are my date.”

“Say what now?”

“I asked you to go out with me!” Steve stressed.

“Yea, but then you called me dude, so I’m sorry if my signals got crossed.” Eddie replied, voice laced with disbelief. “I failed senior year twice, I need clarity.”

“I want to fuck you.” Steve says slowly, sounding out every part of each word carefully.

“Wow! Where’s the romance?”

Steve wordlessly gestures at the set table behind him.