you see me rolling up, pops, you step aside

The amount of people who seem to genuinely believe that I LIKE being angry about things boggles my mind.

I am of what one might call a PASSIONATE DISPOSITION. I feel very intensely about things! I have very strongly held beliefs and ideals! I care about stuff a lot! I am particularly invested in fiction as art, as a reflection of culture, and as a vehicle for social change. It matters to me, deeply. That’s why I consume tons of fictional media. That’s why I write fiction. That’s why I have a Tumblr where I spend lots of time talking about it, in general.

This all does mean that, yes, I spend time being critical or negative or angry. Not because I just love it so much but because the things that I am being critical of or negative about or angry about MATTER to me and even despite often tempering that anger with humor as a self-preservation mechanism, I would almost always rather be spinning off into squee-induced fancies about people kissing or shopping for home decor or cooking disastrous breakfasts than being angry about yet another narrative betrayal.

Believe it or not, I am a cheerful person! I dancewalk and sing to myself and laugh a LOT and blow raspberries on my cat’s belly and speak to people I love in silly voices. I’m not some kind of ogre hunched over my keyboard foaming at the mouth waiting for something to misstep so I can jump all over it. I would love it if everything were awesome all the time!! But everything is not awesome all the time and often it’s not awesome in ways that are harmful, and I think it’s important to engage with that. So I do.

And I’m not going to stop just because it’s one of your favorite things. Chances are it was one of my favorite things too before it a) collapsed as a narrative to the point that I could not longer be legitimately emotionally engaged and/or b) persisted in reminding me that I live in a culture that ceaselessly asserts that I’m not a full, complete human being who is worthy of respect and capable of autonomy.