Tanis Nikana

We getting the nanos from 17776?

Thanks for explaining yours.

(And man, I hate it when other people validate that I’m in deep shit. Makes it real, you know?)

Yeah, there’s enough content on Lemmy to see everything in a half hour and then get on with the day. I like that.

The algorithm is set to “here’s everything except what you blocked.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lizard_Boy:_The_Musical

It’s quite good. A tight cast of exactly three characters who also play the instruments needed for the songs. Very queer, overt trans themes, and it was quite relatable to me!

I saw Lizard Boy at Portland Center Stage a couple times last week. Once with a friend who saw six showings in a row, and once with her and my wife soon after. Was quite good.

Two people hit it with a downvote.

I have no idea what the downvotes are trying to communicate.

• ”that’s right, tranny, we’re coming for you”
• ”this content doesn’t improve Lemmy“
• ”trans people aren’t discriminated against”

Or something else entirely that I can’t articulate.

Whatever the reasons for the downvotes people have left, my feelings are true and I feel them.

Being murdered for being trans while living in Oregon. It shouldn’t happen, but it’s not impossible.

Let’s do hard mode.

Alice in Borderland.

You gotta finish your g, buddy. Plaque and plague are two super different things.

Although if you’re a dentist or you like flossing, I get it.

How can it be anything else? Put your socks on in your bedroom, get ready to go, grab a purse or a bag and car keys and stuff, and then put your shoes on in the genkan or entryway or foyer or whatever.

Or are you telling me there’s people who wear shoes in the house?

I would mostly be worried that we get a smarter and more capable fascist at the helm.

I hate how my brain will sit there and say “that’s good, you played enough of this game, you’ve read enough of this book, save the rest for later, next time,” when I’m literally doing sweet fuck-all afterward, no plans, nothing to do except continue the thing I was doing, but no. Brain wants me to stop.

There’s your answer.

I had my high school reunion there. Lovely in the summer, dreary in the winter.

Stellantis will remember this.

I’ve seen them thrice, and Friday Pilots Club always puts on a good show!

Let’s add Bodies to this list. Eight episodes, one hour each. The same identical corpse turns up in 1890, 1941, 2023, and 2053. Time travel shenanigans ensue. Smart writing, tight cast, nothing is wasted.

Know you are loved.

And I can effortlessly visualize and move through places I’ve been to enough to learn the layouts as well. I’ve stood in the spot, where, back in high school, I turned down a girl who asked me out. I stood there, on a quiet and cold night, on the grass with no one around, and apologized to her, twenty-three years too late. Apparently being turned down was enough to put herself in a tailspin that even at the twenty-year reunion, she hasn’t pulled herself out of. Maybe I’m not to blame? But I still stood in that spot and said sorry.

It’s easy to remember where all the spots are.

No, I don’t have kids. A friend of mine cleans there and asked me if I wanted to see the place after a couple decades away. Dead of summer. No one around, just wandered for a few minutes. Lonely, but nothing moved an inch.

I’m trans, asexual, and taking this virginity to my grave. My bloodline stops with me.

My entire memory operates spatially. I have accurate floor plans of every place I’ve been to at least more than once. I can navigate any number of places. Even still have the layout and significant memories of my old middle school. (Interestingly enough, when I went back there, the whole building felt about 30% smaller in every dimension—hallways narrower and shorter, ceilings lower. Turns out, this is because I’m 30% larger than I was when I was twelve.)