You the person present saving me my last lifeboat in an iceberg sea thank you
THERE
Living in the present past the old the dusty the plain the last but oh oh the last when music fills your ears and you remember You Remember you remember all the listless days in your cell where you painted heaven on the walls
fall away to old begins leaving highs and winning sins paying homage living in homage smelling homage YOU ARE THERE
oh yea before i forget: for all my disabled/chronic pain-having/shaky-handed femmes, there’s this shop on etsy that sells eyeliner temporary tattoos in packs of 4 diff designs for 4.50 for on those days where the shakiness/pain/etc is too bad to do ur makeup but u still want to look good
You are a police officer, you see a NAKED black man who might be mentally ill, but it is clear that he has no weapons, yet you shoot to kill? No tasers? No calling for backup? No tranquilizers or nothing?
Bruh.
There are wild animals that make it into suburbs and make it out alive escorted by police, but a naked, black man is shot on sight? Jesus.
Being trans is so disorienting. One second I’m stumbling out of bed half naked, and I look in the mirror and think “You look soooooo male looking and tall. It’s just not good. You’ll have to do something about that. Look at you, you’re overweight too. Gross! You should never be happy!”
Then I take a shower, and shave, and do my makeup, etc. And I look in the mirror and I think “Hey I look alright! I’m passable. I just look tall. I’m not totally fat. I really like this shirt! I can relax a little.”
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