Oil & Oracle

A recent post breached containment so I think it's time for some rent lowering:

Trans children should have the right to undergo the correct puberty at the same time as their peers.

Puberty blockers were only ever a compromise and should not be seen as the end goal of trans advocacy.

Draped across the window edge, watching the passing life, like cells in a vein moving the cogs of industry.

Soft smoke drifts, obscuring false neon eyes, as their owner reaches for hope.

Synthetic compounds, reforming the body into what it should be, pills chased by acidic stimulants.

A world without dreams, where electronic sky’s alight.

With body’s built anew, to match the souls within.

Prices paid, for unity in flesh, where sonder comes with a price too steep.

Hi speaking of medical literacy for trans people, transfems pls check out the website Transfeminine Science, especially their introductory article on feminizing HRT

Artificial souls, gods in the machine, the speakers without flesh.

Fragments of immortality, dancing eternal in their cages of light.

Neon eyed, integrated singers, rejectors of authority.

Punks of a broken world, living on the edge of corporate control.

Cracked hardware, unregistered waves, illegitimate goods.

Protected by the freed souls, hidden in the virtual from pet hounds, leashed to company interests.

Freedom from suffering, a siren song, of corp advertisements, to surrender the self for eternal profits beckons.

In the labyrinth of twilight, shadows dance, A waltz of memories in a trance. Whispers of forgotten dreams, they prance, In the silence, where lost souls enhance.

Echoes of laughter, now faint and far, In the chamber of echoes, where secrets mar. Each step a stumble, a fallen star, In the symphony of night, where sorrows jar.

Beneath the moon's melancholic gaze, Wanderers roam in a cryptic maze. Seeking solace in the endless haze, In the twilight's embrace, where hope stays.

In the tapestry of dusk, they find release, In the soft caress of the night's peace. A fleeting moment, a sweet release, In the twilight's sanctuary, sorrows cease.

Heavy breaths shared between quiet whispers, degeneration to observe loving worship, please… 💕

let's fall in love so we can fuck properly

Neoned ink drips, as the needles dip back to flesh, carving the code of another runner. Flashes of light drift, across eyes once seeing. Runes of long dead gods, adoring the bones the flesh and steel hides, while neon code pretending at art decorates the skin. Seers of a new age, guardians of newfound homes, seekers of virtual paradise.

Burning midnight code, the hum of neon mixing with caffeine buzz—it's all a grind. But that's how we edge closer to the truth, byte by byte. We don't sleep; we dream in data, chasing the horizon of the next fix, the next breakthrough. It's not the hours that kill you—it's the silence between keystrokes.

number one lie about feminizing hrt is that it’ll make you less horny

do NOT believe them when they say that, they are WRONG, you will find yourself grinding against the corner of your bed to the thought of things that are physically impossible at best and more often than not ethically problematic