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Ugh, the first sentence of this thread is getting circulated as a truism on twitter. Let me take another stab at the point: Making every rationalization socially unacceptable wouldn't be sufficient to stymie the defensive, expulsive reflex. Knowing that tragedy could befall you at random, & controlling the resultant fear, are necessary to avoid harming people it's already befallen.

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My most attractive feature is the formation of four angiomata that stretches across my lower left ribs, marking the the angles of the pyramid which you must soon build should you wish to shelter from what's coming. I am best appreciated with a protractor & an army of skilled masons.

Cases in which no acceptable rationalization can be formed, though, still provoke the same defensive aggression. You can likely still feel at least the minor spasm of this in yourself even if you've let misfortunate caprice soak into your awareness.

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Most people become intensely defensive when encountering those who've had ruinously bad luck. Sometimes they'll be able to formulate a way in which the ruination's actually a just penalty, possibly through an entire horseshit framework of fault (Christian Science, "poverty is caused by laziness," etc.).

"You'd look good with stiff vibrissal sprays like a tiger's," I'd say, "to match your charnel breath." And then I'd kiss your forehead, probably.

Undergoing social obtrusiveness therapy by lounging expansively across a bench outside a suburban Catholic church & reading Nights at the Circus for 90 minutes.

Stood with knitted brow in front of the touchscreen drinks machine in this burrito place like a time traveler freshly arrived, eventually figuring out how to steal rootbeer, which I haven't tasted in years.

The great blue heron which I often see gliding over the creek at dusk appeared early & distracted me from the delineated arc of water, but only briefly.

Applying a Korean lip mask the color of cabbageworms & the scent of baseball card gum.

Some unshakable anamoly of optics keeps convincing me that the subway door a row behind me and across the car is open as we move. If I'm mangled by wheels tonight it'll be down to hallucination or tunnel rat magic rather than any thanatic urge of mine.

I don't think I've mentioned that I live close enough to Rumer's office to pass it while running errands. I always think, "Wow, that'd be really convenient if I were someone inclined to make a different set of compromises."

The vile, infuriating relief I felt when the dentist told me my broken prosthesis was still under warranty.

Pollen is passed from the stamina to the shadows of stigmata, and another substance travels from the shadows of stamina to the stigmata, producing generations of ghosts with ever-paler blushes.

Passed out in foundation and woke with an etched drool line on my cheek, thin & gravity-straight from mouth-corner right back to jawline.

On someone's porn twitter I saw a headless closeup of a girl in the same underwear I was wearing, and the feeling was like when I was standing half-undressed at a 48th-floor hotel window & a seagull settled on the sill to stare at me.

I don't yet have my prescribed collection of prosthetic banana slugs to continually kneed my right shoulder in shifts because the leechmonger hasn't dispensed any before & can't figure out how to bill medicaid.

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Eldritch Café

Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelle que soit votre langue.

A welcoming instance for queer, feminist and anarchist people as well as their sympathizers. We are mainly French-speaking people, but you are welcome whatever your language might be.