Disclaimer: this blog will raise some seriously negative attitudes. Do not, I stress, *do not* read if subject to severe mental/emotional distress (from depression, PTSD, anxiety, low self-esteem, et al.). Also, please upon please do not recap this blog, and the moderators should delete it if deemed unhealthy to leave it live. Thanks.
Amongst rainfall, I reboot the PC. The PS5 beckons - Demon's Souls, Genshin Impact, Ys IX, et al. - but it shall wait. The Atlantic Ocean crashes: each wake, unyielding, impartial. New Jersey isn't the flashiest state, but it sorely beats my previous residences. For me, it was overdue closing time at those residences, as it was overdue closing time at living as my assigned male sex rather than the lady that I *know* I've always been, as it was overdue closing time at Destructoid a few years back - but I've never managed to identify the predominant catalyst: did I inwardly regret or outwardly resent my Destructoid occupancy. Thus birthed sedate deliberation.
Amongst regrets, I regretted my passivity and timidity, largest of all. It was much too chilling a prospect to timidly voice anything other than expected values. I never enjoyed Halo or Gears of War, and that was expectable and acceptable since I was not "an Xboxer" or "an FPSer"; I never enjoyed Zeldas or Chrono Trigger, and that was unexpectable and unacceptable since those comprised unassailable titans. I kept silent, demure - compliant, in a similar vein to over 3 decades of compliance with the hospital's assigned he/him over my soul's innate she/her. I never sought to *irritate* another. I sought to mend, even at total sacrifice to my self-smothered viewpoint. I did that. I muzzled myself. I limited myself. I harmed myself. Thus birthed compliant silence.
Amongst resentments, I resented Dtoid's duplicity and nigh-on hypocrisy. This place reeks of a cishet dudebro hivemind, except "geeky" instead of "jocky". Even a broken Jed, amidst his otherwise ubiquitous malicious torpedoes, could be right once and twice, and it always struck me as duplicitous that he received an artillery of counterfire over the exact nature of "safe space" that Qtoiders and Communicordians champion, cherish, and cheer about, in extolling those two zones - to say little about the segregation and cliquism that manifested and rapidly overtook its occupants, to become one of the cool crowd, not just another mouseclick. Qtoid and the Discord certainly qualify as safe spaces, or else the common refrain, "I couldn't see myself posting anyplace else", would instead be starkly seldom or even fully nonexistent. And yet, that very refuge tailored to a Type, one where its Type could feel cozy comfort as so many others unlike them underwent "unrelatable" pains. I had to marvel at, even halfway applaud, any cis women or fellow transgenders or downtrodden spectrum-caged persons that stuck and stick it out here. I don't know how they endure. The pushback against boys-being-boys comfort drenches FP and QP, C-blog and forum, alike. Therein lay another quizzical duplicity: "STFUAJPVG", or dare to welcome the unwelcomed? In speech, I heard much, I /heard/ much welcome. In action? I observed raucous geeky Dudebro-ing. If the community endlessly serenades their physical (male) genitals and ever-intensifying gross-out "humour", if the community sardonically and brashly barks back at darn near every single "unacceptable" opinion, if the community lazily equips the inauthentic mask, "F U", as its dudebro-ish Word of Love.....then, musing sincerely, what else could we expect but an insular dudebro-ian geek hive? And it drove me, and, having discussed with more than two fellow departures, more than a couple others, out of here, through either immediate emotional injury or inevitable social erosion. They didn't fit, even when they committed no wrongdoing, nor faux pas. Thus birthed encroaching disdain.
Amongst reconciliation, I recognize my coldest disappointment: bad faith, atop juvenile flippancy. Humanity has an undeniable knack toward bad-faith discourse, communication, and interaction at large. Reactionary, oft-insincere, verbal molotovs overwrite so many attempts at mutual understanding. But here, self-christened "the most welcoming and enjoyable community on the Internet", one'd expect a higher, even half-gleaming, atmosphere....which, sadly, seldom materialized, and never solidified. It's....as if Grade 6 never stopped? Amongst 20-something, 30-something adults? The ceaseless dismissive remarks and inescapable mouthy interjections bespoke a dishearteningly juvenile mindset. Not every single visitor ought be expected to conform to the "F Off Nerd" = "Love U Bro" dialect, or else will rise a bastion of continual faux-belligerence substituting for constructive reinforcement. (To say nothing of the ways in which designated "beloved" community members, or even moderators, could get away with being abrasive jerks when the rule succinctly commands, "Don't be a jerk", or perhaps slip in some casual anti-Semitic quips here or there because we knooooow that they don't mean it, or we knoooow that it's all a facade, part of their act, or....well, what about those who timidly implore a more authentic standard.) And could we like/dislike outside of the Hive, now and again? What if it turns out that we might actually enjoy some game that initially appears forgettable, even unsavory, to us? What if a contrary or less-enthusiastic opinion about Our Favorite Thing[s] doesn't represent a personal attack or some malfeasant violation of an individual's gaming pedigree? What if somebody greatly likes or firmly dislikes something - innocuous, natch, not illegal - and that's fine? What if we don't even knock them for it just because it's every contemporary's job to knock somebody else for their opinions, even though 85% of the time, we mean not a word of what we spew? What if sincerity, humility, tact, restraint, even silent dissent, ascended even slightly up the roster of expected outcomes? Why do we need to stay so ceaselessly mouthy? It can drain, fatigue, dispirit, erode, even embitter, several of the best of us. The rampant bad-faith flippancy smacks of the very same "dudebro invasion" that each unaggressive introvert aims to evade, in the locker rooms, in the hallways, in the workforce, in the wider Earth...and, here, physically, one can in fact evade it. Verbally, however, rings an identically unapproachable tone. Specially, a lady, whether biologically cisgender, like those who exited Dtoid, or transitioning to womanhood, like myself, has no hope to reside here, unless she likens herself after The Man: abrasive, sardonic, rowdy, coarse, rugged, emotionally stifled...devourer of the hyperviolent and the hyper-gory and the Ubergrimdark arts, the novels, the films, the telly, the video games - you know: manly. Some ladies, even gaming ladies, can be - are - more ladylike. Some girls like femininity, like womanliness, like girly items. Some ladies like ladies, as I do, and like their femininity, not becoming pectorally-endowed men. Personally, I cannot do so, here. Here, we like our women rough. They attack. They like the murderdeathkilly stuff. You don't need to, as evidenced by my anti-hive diatribe, all like the same items, all advocate the same attitudes. You can absolutely relish your Dooms and your Mortal Kombats. You can retch at girly aesthetics, and otome, and the soft and the overly cutesy and so forth and so forth to ad infinitum. My desolate point is that not everybody needs to align likewise, and not everybody needs to get smacked down - whether toyingly or, more darkly, otherwise - if they differ, and especially if they try to explain their whys. It benefits, staggeringly, to tolerate, to expand, not to demean, not to seal. If Dtoid by and large attracts far-left progressivism (to be sure, I searingly qualify as sharp leftist, even upon more European or global compasses), then whenceforth went its appeal to warming invitation in, not ostensible intent, but tangible action? Thus birthed online homelessness.
Amongst rainfall, I reach for the mouse. I'll post, to formalize and finalize my own internal Dtoid closing time. I solved the equation. My confusion expires. Destructoid dot com: do I more strongly inwardly regret it, or outwardly resent it?
The latter. Oh, irreversibly, the latter. I can ward it off, that it affects not my mundane days, but I'll somberly recognize: bitter, toward this place, is my temperament.
I resent Dtoid. I resent each of you. I resent ever positively engaging or treasuring this website. And I'll spare but little relief when Dtoid arrives at its own, overdue closing time.