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Hi! My name is Ingrid. My website, which contains short stories and short non-fiction, is

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I make music, which is pay-what-you-want, and can be found at

My music can be described as post-punk, but it's been branching out in more experimental directions

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need to see "We're All Going To The World's Fair", partly for its own sake but also because I think it might have a similar project to something I'm working on

I should see *The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo*. Given my tastes, I think I'd like "nordic noir"; a lot of people around me were really into them a few years ago, but I passed them up then. The other reason is, if I want to better understand the potential of digital as opposed to film, I guess I'll have to see Fincher's work.

Ingrid relayed
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Did You Know: Bluetooth is named after the 10th century Norwegian king Harald Bluetooth, who was also not able to reliably connect to audio devices wirelessly.

Dusting off this account after more than a year

I was noting how when I saw a trans person post something complimenting trans people as a group about something I was insecure with, I had to fight off a strong urge to say "not me though" and I realized it was sort of an accusation: "if what you say is true, why am I so alone?"

My friend said to me that the reason why I'm alone is not because of some essential characteristic, but because my sadness drives other people away. She meant it to be uplifting but I don't see any possible transformation taking me away from what is such a core of my being. I don't think I have what it takes to be less sad, especially as I already had to leave behind some realms of emotion that were even worse for me and for others (anger for instance). I don't think I can remember a time when I was not sad.

Perhaps 10 years from now, if I'm still a conscious being, things may be different but it's just as if not more possible that they're not

Remembering the old mentor figure I alienated, and how much I wish I had not done that, and how avoidable it was had I been less of a shit as a teenager.

I sometimes wonder if I'm a broken record about this or if this desire is just a sign of bourgeois retrograde weakness, but I wish there were a way to write trans stories that were not about survival in a post-apocalyptic wasteland

I personally can't handle (post-)apocalyptic and dystopian fiction because it hits too close to home. I know I'm not equal to what comes ahead

depressing world/future stuff 

I feel like every time I try to think of anything more than 'return to New York, meet your gf, volunteer at the bookstore, drink coffee' I can only spiral. I wish I knew of an intellectually and morally honest (that is, both of the world and what sorts of conditions I, personally, can live in) way to feel hope for the future.

I feel like every time I try to fit in a physical description it comes off awkward and matter-of-fact. Perhaps once I've written more, I can go back and both spread about the descriptions and make them less flat and literal

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interior designers 🤝 regular expressions
pattern matching

I hate being the sort of person who constantly feels the need to ask my friends if they hate me. I hope I can stop being that way at some point.

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I wish I were a self-confident, thick-skinned person. I wouldn't have to be so consumed with fear and anxiety. I'd be more interesting to others.

too many friends—especially people I look up to—I've lost contact with and feel anxious over. I wish I weren't as good at alienating people as it appears that I am.

kink, past suicidal ideation 

me, 18, depressed: i want some rope

me, 24, still depressed but also horny: i want some rope

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