Bless me, Father, for I have sinned; it has been one day since my last confession.
Three times I participated in an argument about trigger warnings. Each time I swore it was my last.
Once I replied “lol i’m not mad, it’s just funny to me”
Father, I was super mad.
I read an article about whether Taylor Swift is problematic.
I read an article about whether Beyonce is a feminist.
I read an article about whether Lana del Rey is a feminist, and shared it with a friend.
I spent 45 minutes of my workday looking for a specific reaction gif.
I passive-aggressively favorited all the tweets from one person in a heated argument.
I looked up an essay that drove me crazy when it came out three years ago solely for the pleasure of wallowing in hate. I relished every loathsome word.
I blocked someone because they said, and I quote, that the 1999 Mansfield Park movie adaptation is better than the book.
I would like to take that last sin back; I do not repent of it.
I posted an article with the comment “amazing, and so necessary” having read only the headline. My friends told me it was really good.
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