˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪⭑made by me:) ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪⭑

Kitze's Intro Post (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Since I've been getting new followers recently, here's my intro post ^^

୨୧~ My name is Kitze

୨୧~ 5teen but my bday is in October

୨୧~ public diary, girlblogging, and mood boards(reqs open)! sorta like whatever I feel like posting ^^ (one post a day at least)

୨୧~ music: twice, gidle, new jeans, ldr, melanie martinez, gwen stefani, hole, the cure, mcr, mitski, tv girl, fiona apple and so many more !!

୨୧~ hobbies: I don't have the time for hobbies anymore due to school work but if I do have time then reading, making jewelry, making kpop collages, making quizzes, dancing, listening to music(does that count as a hobby??)

୨୧~ don't be afraid to message me/send asks! I love making new friends and I love answering asks ^^

୨୧~ however DNI if you're homophobic, transphobic, ed/nsfw blogs, racist, etc.

enjoy your stay <3

shoutout to all my followers who enjoy my very specific niche of suits (tv) posts interspersed with ramblings about my problems and feelings

Floating aimlessly, my love lies amidst the chilling sea. It holds me in your place as now you hardly search for me. I had dove into crashing tides hoping to avoid what I couldn’t say. Now I’m solely lost, with no hopeful great escape. I only aimed to save a space, but what was my supposed reconcile became my wretched fate.

- Far from Home (4.16.24)

I sought out the wretched. I reached for hands drenched in oil, and kissed mouths filled with acid.

I saw the perverse in them. And in it I saw an innocence in myself. I could be the little girl I begged to be. I could be the small child I hadn’t been.

I could ignore the stares and the touches if it meant for a moment I was pure. I could ignore the damnation if for a moment I was made in God’s image.

I knew they saw me as something to be defiled. I was their thing to be tainted, I could be groomed in any way they needed.

It was slight but it was there. I was still pure. I was untouched. I was still her before I became dirty.

Day 1:

Just got this app today and I’m hoping it’s good. Went to church, spoke to one of my friends, and ate chicken.

Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Dear Public Diary,

I feel an increasing sense of dread as April approaches. As a student in the humanities and social sciences, not only do I have research of my own to do, but I have so many papers to write for courses. Just in the next week, I have two papers due, neither of which I have started. I have been staring at the same page and reading the same sentences over and over. I cannot concentrate or comprehend what I am reading. However, in my defense, Locke writes in paragraph-length sentences that could have easily been broken up into at least three separate statements. This inability to be productive, combined with the inability to relax, puts me in stasis, where I just freeze up. It's not that I don't like the Enlightenment thinkers... or maybe it is.

I have to remind myself that just because power is shared among several White men (as opposed to power concentrated in one White man) does not make it democratic. It's so easy to read ideological philosophical texts and convince myself that I am one of the humans they speak of, though I know that these thinkers would not have considered me as one. Even still--centuries after Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau--I am not truly considered as a full, free [hu]man by the government. It is not really that oppressed people are becoming a part of this "human" category; we are just changing the boundary between who is in the human and subhuman categories. We are just given an illusion of progress by introducing new moral justifications.

For example, in the US, we are taught to believe that racism ended with MLK--we no longer treat Black people as lesser just because of skin color! Hooray! However, what the government did was refocus our morality--we believe criminals deserve to be punished and treated as lesser. Solution: make Americans believe crime is out of control and that Black people are criminals. Now we draw the line slightly differently from where it was before, but not really. It just gives us new moral justifications to put a certain group of people in the trash to be forgotten. This is a weird analogy, but it reminds me of the barber poles that captivated me as a child; the spinning motion combined with the diagonal lines give the illusion that the lines are continually going upward when, in reality, the stripes are not changing.

I am taking a graduate-level course in philosophy of law; this semester, it is focused on feminism and cornography laws. [I don't know what words Tumblr flags these days, but just to be safe, I will just use 'corn' to refer to--you know.] We are reading In Harm's Way: The [C]ornography Civil Rights Hearings by Catharine MacKinnon. The hearings took place in the 80s when there were no real laws limiting corn or allowing people to seek justice for wrongs they faced because of corn. I'm happy to discuss the philosophical, sociological, and psychological dimensions of harm caused by corn, but that would be an entire dissertation on its own, so I will hold myself back for the time being.

In the past seven days, I have read ten books. These were mindless fantasy romances, so I breezed through them, no critical thinking skills activated. However, it made me stop and analyze the parallels between mainstream romance books and visual cornography. Corn had previously been limited to the men who had access to art (so basically the upper class) or brothels. Until the internet age, it was not as democratically accessible. Nowadays, even young children are able to access corn without any barriers. Corn tends to refer to visual mediums (rather than literary), and we as a society now recognize the existence and harms of sex trafficking and its role in creating corn. People tend to believe that the harm of cornography lies in the women who are forced to perform and that this is what makes the ethics of corn questionable. [Of course, some may argue upon which ones or what situations can be evaluated as "forced," but that's a topic to tackle on another day.]

However, this is my controversial opinion: I think corn and the pimps of this multi-billion dollar industry have strategically adapted to the new social constraints of the time. Behold, spicy books: a newly-mainstream medium of corn that still maintains abuse/violence as something sexually arousing, maintains toxic gender dynamics (i.e., male dom/female sub), brings in a new demographic of customers (i.e., women), and seems ethical (i.e., no women are harmed in the process). Seems like female sexual liberation, but is it really? I recently went to a local bookstore, and they had a whole section of the store dedicated to BookTok romance books with an emphasis on those with "spice." Alarmingly, it was right next to the Young Adult (YA) section (ages 12-18). The displayed spicy books have such deceiving, innocent, cute covers that make children pick them up and prevent parents from knowing the true nature of the story. Pimps would often show children corn as educational material of sorts so that they know how to behave and what to reenact. Especially since sex education is not very thorough (if there is any at all), these toxic dynamics displayed in these books become young girls' sex education.

Even for us adults, it's important to analyze whether the maledom/femsub dynamic is truly a personal preference that many people also happen to hold or whether it is an internalization of misogyny. Although these YouTube shorts were satirical, I saw a few that were something like "POV: you're dating a book girlfriend" and the girlfriend would do toxic things, like objectify their partners, have unrealistic expectations, expect/demand violent actions in sex that the men are not comfortable doing, etc. Seems like an ironic reversal of the previous situation with visual cornography. [It is important to remember we are still in a male-dominated society, and as long as we are in a male-dominated society, men will not truly understand the harm corn has caused women.] However, men are being called "too sensitive" by talking about the harm these books are causing in relationships. Wouldn't this be another form of silencing a group, this time on the basis of toxic masculinity ideals? Then, we are not necessarily giving more people voices but shifting who gets the voice based on a shallow understanding of the deeper issue at hand.

One of the reasons why violent corn should not be protected by the First Amendment is because of the real-life harms that they cause. For example, corn may just say these are "sexual fantasies," but they cause real-life harm as real-life men seek to reenact them with women in coerced/forced situations. Just because one has a camera recording should not mean that the violent act is protected under free speech. If real-life harm is being caused because of smut, smut should not be fully defended by the First Amendment as free speech. More importantly, we need to realize that these books are not "just fiction" or "just sexual fantasies" and understand the real-life implications. I guess smut books can also be seen as a form of sex discrimination under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act in that they create content based on gender/sex where one group (i.e., women) is degraded, and these books facilitate gender-based discrimination in real life. Anyways, these are my thoughts.

I have a breakfast meeting to get ready for, so I will call it a day here.

Yours Truly,

RCH

I know you just want sex, and it’s okay that you see me as a girl, I really can’t blame you, at least you want me

I think it can be hard to find the line between forgiving and having just a total lack of respect for the self. Like at what point is it just disrespectful to get along with people who have disrespected you in the past. Forgiveness is a beautiful trait it takes a lot of mindfulness and understanding. But how close can you be with the people you forgive? Is being close with those who hurt you a sign that you still don’t fully respect yourself? Open to answers.

hello dear reader,

Not entirely sure how to start this blog. Not even entirely sure why I created it. I think as all writers feel, I think it would be partly beautiful to have a part of my thoughts available on some corner on the internet. And then the future historians will find this and probably write books about the average 20 year old gen-z person in the 21st century, and how intensely they felt every emotion.

I won't give too many details about my life, which is funny cuz I probably will end up doing that as I wish this to be a public diary of sorts, but also hope that others who feel the way I do realise they are not alone.

As the URL suggests, this blog is for the angels, not the gods. Its overdone, but its from the song Not Strong Enough by Boygenius, with the painful lyrics "always an angel, never a god". Its meant to represent the second choice. The people who are never first on anyone's list. They are by no means the last either. They are just the irrelevant ones. The ones who always ask you if you're fine, never the ones asked if we are fine. The ones who will come running to you if you ever need help, while you check your schedule to see if you can make time for our pain.

Anyway, apologies for the chaos that will probably ensue on this, or conversely, even for the dullness you might endure. Hope this blog helps you in whatever way you see fit. Whether it is to be fascinated by how the other half lives, or to find comfort in knowing you are not alone.

˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪⭑made by me:) ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪⭑

Kitze's Digital Diary pg. 1

🌻✎ᝰ.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Dear diary: I originally wanted to post this yesterday but I didn't get time to work on it so all of this happened yesterday (⁠*⁠﹏⁠*⁠;⁠) Also I'm really bad at writing in actual journals so I think this would be better and maybe I'll just rewrite all of this in my journal ^^ idk how often I'll do this but i hope you guys enjoy <3

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

• I didn't have school today yay! But I did have school assignments to do. I didn't complete one fully since I couldn't find the motivation to do it so I'll probably have to do it in lunch, I don't mind tho cuz I get to listen to my music !!

• It was a really nice day and I almost rotted the day away in bed but @heavenlyangels02 convinced me to go outside so I did!! I'm really glad I did cuz it felt so relaxing. I started to re-read Heaven by Mieko Kawakami since I couldn't remember where I stopped plus I wanted to annotate it. Also does bullying really go undetected in Japan? These kids are literally making him drink chalk water and swallow random shit...

• While I was reading I was listening to Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain and OH MY GOD!!!!! THE LORE IS FUCKING CRAZY LIKE....I got into it thanks to @julia-bonkers it's my new obsession now. My fav song from the album is House In Nebraska but my fav lyric is "God loves you but not enough to save you." it just hits so close to home it's crazy

• by then I think it was 5 pm and my dad needed to go on errands so I went with him! I was so lucky enough to find the Tragic Kingdom CD by No Doubt on my spring break so I played the CD for the first time in the car!! I only new two songs going into it, Excuse Me Mr and I'm Just a Girl, but the rest of the album is so good!!! After, we stopped by IHOP and I got the cali roasted turkey melt with mango lemonade it was so yummyyy.When I got home I immediately went to bed and went onto yt to watch a deep dive on Ethel Cain's album. I gotta go now but I'll write again soon <3

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Entry #7 - times are changing

wow its been a while. so anyways im done uni! thats so fun. kinda sucks that a whole ass pandemic disrupted like two years of it. but you know what, i found i what i was supposed to do with my life because of the opportunities it gave me taking online courses. isn't that so weird to say? well, now im an art history girlie teehee. i got a whole other major in it. and im kinda good at it. so much so professors have told me to apply to grad school in the subject. this is what im doing currently! im so scared and so excited at the same time. it feels like my life is beginning. which is so weird because thats how i felt when i was starting undergrad. so much has changed in my life since i last wrote. life, love, and things like it. i also have a love. the love of my life to be exact. im so happy i met him because he is everything i want and more. i love him so so so much. he is mine, and i am his. forever. ah what a view i have on the world at the moment. kinda surprising considering everything else. vball is over and while im sad about not playing the sport, i am so glad to never have to see my coach again. she is quite literally a narcissist and emotional abuser. not to mention she breads that within the team. god im so glad i dont have to see her or her minions again. once again, i feel free. like i have so many possibilities in front of me with people that truly support me and want the best for me. and im so grateful. ive learned lessons and done the work. i am ready for the next chapter of my life, where ever that may take me. <3

When you're introverted and finally make new friends...but it doesn't work out😹

“The body keeps score.”

It’s a phrase I've heard in passing over the years. It's a metaphor about trauma and how even if you do not emotionally feel it, your body does. Trauma can present itself in sickness. It can present itself in small ways that are annoying or just simply inconvenient for you. You don’t understand why your friend touching your back makes you so incredibly uncomfortable, but it does, and you’ll go home and scrub your body raw. Minor mishaps will completely ruin your day, and you don’t want to be like this, but how can you fix something you don’t even see?

I know my trauma. I remember it clearly. My body doesn't need to keep score because I do. I can meticulously trace an unwarranted reaction to the emotional abuse I endured as a child. I can follow the shivers and disgust to being raped. Sometimes I wonder if this has done me more harm then good. Maybe I would’ve been better off never remembering and simply being confused for the rest of my life.

I’ll envy those with large chunks of memory missing, I remember and it haunts my dreams. I become a shell only made to imprison rotten parts of the world. Even with my memory, my body keeps score. I become physically sick when I’m too emotional. A reaction that only presented in high school after I was being abused by a significant other. I’ll break out into hives and my spine wants to break into two. More often than not, my body knows I was wronged before I do.

It’ll send me a stomach ache and then shivers and then hives and so on and so on. I’ve learned to maneuver life knowing that my mind and body were in debt. They had a price to pay for a crime I did not commit.

But my body has failed. It’ll whine and cry over instances that I’d rather forget. But it’ll punish me with abyss when I want to remember. My body will remember violation but it can’t remember my creation. It’ll scream at me when I feel whispers of his hands but when I beg and pled for something of my mother it is silent.

The body keeps score only of destruction but it cannot bear the sight of knowing at some point I was loved. Someone had loved me. Someone had cared.

The body has kept score but god why couldn’t it remember her.

10/20/22

10/20/22 

"What God Doesn't Give To You, 

You've Got To Go And Get For Yourself" 

I'm trying to come to terms with how I feel about applying the term transgender to myself. I keep pushing back when I try to say that. I feel like I don’t count. I don't act particularly feminine, I don't try to look feminine, I don't feel feminine on the outside. 

I actively try to hide it. It's not second nature to me, I'll admit. Part of me worries maybe this is a phase. I think a part of me wants this to be a phase because if it is a phase, that means this will go away. 

Unfortunately, I know that isn't true. I know I've felt this way most of my life. I've wanted this most of my life. It's just now I have been asked to articulate my feelings for once. I have an opportunity to share this with someone. Now that I have accepted this as an option, I find myself in private talking in a voice that doesn't bother me. A voice that I don't feel ashamed of. I can talk. I can talk with confidence. I think that once I can feel normal and confident by myself, maybe I can start adopting these "other" things around others. 

I'm far from going out in public like this. I know I don't have that kind of bravery yet. I haven't had luck with support groups in my area, but I found a reddit group that shares posts from individuals who are currently questioning or in the same exploratory stage that I'm in. It's nice for people to so accurately describe these feelings I'm having. Some of the feelings that feel so suffocating to me, they can observe with a level of humor that makes coping not so difficult. I find myself lately looking at this reddit when I am feeling dysphoric or out of sorts. 

My biggest issue lately is I don't know what being female means to me. Not entirely. I know what I want. It feels so vain of me to describe what I want, but maybe it's necessary. I need to remember when I do these things that I need to not expect anything. It's nerve wracking. 

I know I'll never be the fragile, petite, delicate figure I want to be. Slender or frail, just wasn't in the plan for me. Hairless. Free of the glaring reminder of the testosterone coursing through my veins. Not seeing the tufts of hair popping out from the back of my shirt.  Not having to shave my chest on a near daily basis, not having these awful satyr-like legs. The confidence not to be afraid of what others think would be nice as well. A more feminine face. One that doesn't remind me of the man underneath. I want longer hair. I can have that easily. I think someday I’d like to completely remove my facial and body hair. 

I think... maybe someday I'd like to try HRT. Fuck. That's a scary thought. There really isn't a going back from that. The psychology student that I drank away remembers what the DSM-V says about gender dysphoria. That needs to last for a solid six months at least. September 1st was the first time I ever wrote about gender dysphoria. November first will be two solid months since I brought this idea to my own attention. Let's see how I feel in March. If I still feel like this in March of 2023, I’ll start to consider HRT more seriously. It doesn't look like that's changing anytime soon. The more time that passes the more and more I fall into that person. I want to name that side of me. 

It's hard picking a name for yourself. I don't know how people come to those conclusions. I like Laura Jane Grace's route, asking her mom. I'm scared of how that conversation will go. How do I ask Mom that? It's telling, going up to her and asking, "What would you have named me if I was a girl?" Part of me wants to pick something respectful. I------. It's respectful to [great aunt], but I personally don't like the name for me. E--- seems a little hard to take on, especially if Dad doesn't approve (which he absolutely won’t). R----- and T----- don't feel right. I want it to be a Hispanic name. Beatriz or Esperanza or Soledad. If I picked Soledad, I could go by Sunny, which I think is kind of cute. Maybe that's the name. Soledad R--------. 

Fuck. 

I like that name. I like the ring. It's scary though. It's scary to step into that name. I think attaching a female name to me makes it too real. I feel anxious and afraid, but excited and happy about it too. 

I feel weirdly giddy after typing it. Soledad R--------. It makes me shiver and almost tear up a little. I love it. Soledad. That is the name of the person writing this. Soledad R--------. I wanted to write more, but it scares me. This scares me. Baby steps. That's what we're going to take. Baby steps.