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the doctor
The Doctor is a character who, for literally thousands of years, and a neat baker’s dozen of faces, was a man. He would gallivant about space, he would fall in love with women, and he would go by pronouns he/him. He is now a she.
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impostor professor oak
did professor oak, when he first penned that very first entry of his very first Pokedex, when he dare label it The Seed Pokemon, did he let the doubt creep in? did he let himself wonder — did he belong? did he deserve? did he pass?
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haze
when the haze in front of you is so thick that you can taste it, when its so dense that it blankets all of us, when its so toxic that it threatens to cull us one-by-one, how to we combat it?
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pockets
The door closes behind her with a clunk altogether far too loud. Moments, lathered in thick tension, spent waiting before the elevator doors. With strange man she invited into her home for an even stranger transaction, together uncomfortable now that it’s over.
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inviting people in
you’ve built a house with three walls and a front door. one wall is blue, one wall is pink, one wall is white, and the front door is locked.
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soft reset
if dysphoria is a general unease and its panacea is euphoria — seeking it and obtaining it — then its truest instigator is idle hands.
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professional dysphoria
if you could push a button that would grant you every professional ambition, would you press it?
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on motivation
after nearly thirty years of being alive I’ve come to, what I believe to be, a very concrete and irrefutable conclusion: that the hardest thing to do is to get out of bed every morning that probably reads a little flip. does it dismiss the struggles of millions around the world? does it reduce the […]
