My other They is a Them.

No base, no trace.

Are we efficient now? Are we great again yet?

“slippery slimy” wow, ok.

Wat? The first sentence was an acknowledgement of illness and injury. I’m not discounting those realities at all.

Unforeseeable circumstances like injury or illness aside, much of the bodily degredation people succumb to is voluntary. Our bodies are very much “use it or lose it” and if you’re sedentary and disregard the importance of diet, you’ll have a bad time.

Of course there is. That’s what the art of living is.

I read A Scanner Darkly years ago and it made me uncomfortable. Then I read about Dick and it made so much sense.

Hard same. It’s been 25 years since I left, and whenever I encounter anyone from either Ukraine or Russia I don’t reveal my origins at all. Then I overhear them talking absolute shit and I remember why I remain stealth.

Uhh, US biscuit or UK biscuit?

It’s stupefying how committed people are to ignorance. Many of these perspectives persist among immigrant communities abroad, so leaving the country isn’t enough. You have to leave the culture, too.

Damn girl, this one is a knockout.

Masking is a transdiagnostic* risk for this exact reason.

Every time I see someone raking leaves I get the urge to thank them profusely. I wish lawnmowers and leaf blowers would just vanish. What happened to scythes, anyway?

As a child refugee who has moved around a bunch, I completely agree. I was never inducted into community, never shown how to establish this vital component of a pleasurable life. And some part of me understands that community doesn’t just appear, you have to work at it to find the people you want to be around, but how does that happen? Not in the logistical sense, that I understand how to approach, but in the relational sense. How does one begin to belong having never felt belonging in the first place?

I can almost remember how Brighton smells. And how it feels to wake up at Stillwell on the F train, fall back asleep and wake up at Jamaica Ave at like 4 am.

Omg right? Summer means sandals and bare toes and that means summer is king. I walked around yesterday feeling sun on my skin and it felt like I was recharging spirit energy. And my regular walking sandals are so light now it’s like being barefoot. Ahh, heaven.

I’m hella late to this post, but this is the most wholesome view of relationships and intimacy, and one I resonate with deeply.

Can you recommend other written works that have better resonated with your experience of polyamory?

I would argue it’s the only way. Can’t outrun the fork.