yeah I think that's it. just like that. I'm ok with it now. I'm both willing to engage in violence to defend against fascists, and yearning to cause pain for fun in people who like it. That's a type of girl for sure. Both are good and holy parts of me and both only make me hotter

Hell if I meet a girl like this I would want to be her bff immediately. (If you're like this join my #squad pls).

Sure, those forms of violence may feel a bit too close for comfort but they're crucially different, as different as having a roleplay fantasy of being "abused" is from being actually abused. A soldier who has a gunplay kink is not waging war with her partner, even if she can go to war in real life. I have never, and will never, hurt a partner in anger or wanted to cause them harm, nor have I ever felt the slightest impulse to. I'm vegan, I am literally incapable of hurting a fly, or any animal including humans except the enemy. Last time someone described their new flycatcher to me I broke down crying.

I do think these violent aspects of me come from the same dark caustic place, which may or may not be a dripping ichor left of my history of abuse, who knows? But I can transmute it into many things—punk music, combat sports, bloody videogames. I can make of it poison or medicine,

I wouldn't ever torture a fascist, I just want them *gone*. I don't want to cause them pain I want *victory*. Violence against fascists is defensive, an anti-, and it comes from a place of hostility, which is a cold hardening of hatred when you understand the difference between a bad person and an enemy. The goal is that the enemy threat cease to be—either die or give up, at which point they stop being the enemy.

Kink sadism is the exact opposite, I want to cause pain but not harm, I want to see their darkest most taboo fantasies come to life thanks to me, to see that thrill in their step afterwards, it's a pro-, I want them to *bloom*. I want to bring them such ecstasy that they never leave, because I love them and that's my egoism, I'll probably bind them down too out of this impulse of, "please don't go". I can't do sadism casually to a stranger even if they assure me they like it. I can only do this as an act of profound love.

(Some say the opposite of love isn't hatred but indifference. Me, I say the opposite of love is hostility. Hostility and love are me wanting the exact opposite: to weed, or to fertilise.)

(uwu.)

My thrill in sadism lies in the complete surrender that it takes both of us, to expose ourselves to that level of honesty and risk (sadism is very dangerous for the sadist too, besides obviously for the masochist), it requires ultimate trust, ultimate acceptance. Sadism the scariest, weirdest, cringiest thing I have in me, and even people who are accepting of it can't share it unless they're masochists. So finding a loving masochist feels like being seen, in a way that nothing else does. This much acceptance gives a head trip strong as any chemical.

Fighting fascists has nothing to do with that, I don't punch them seeking nobody's acceptance lmao. The only chemicals I get after a fight are adrenaline crash and concentrated paranoia. My thrill in the struggle is the thrill of victory, ideally material but if not that then moral, the empowerment in refusing the logic of fear, of laying low; it's the life-affirmation of standing my ground to stay resolutely, gloriously, very visibly gay. Fascists win when we're too afraid to live so every day I wake up in a puff of glam and make them lose again.

When I fight fascists, I'm queering the world. When I do harcore kink, I'm also queering the world. When I write on mastodon I'm queering the world too, it's all I do that's my mission in life, I manifested to spank butts and kick ass and I'm all out of ass, wait this metaphor doesn't make sense—