CAN’T WAIT TO MOVE INTO A SIMPLE APARTMENT WITH THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND FALL ASLEEP AND WAKE UP NEXT TO THEM AND COOK DINNER WITH THEM AND HAVE RANDOM MIDNIGHT TRIPS FOR SNACKS AND STAY UP LATE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES OR WATCHING MOVIES AND BEING ABLE TO SHARE EVERY MOMENT OF MY LIFE WITH THEM
eveeyones got it wrong your mid 20s arent for going to the club or partying or picking up new crafts. your 20s are for discovering how much more autistic you are than you thought you were in high school
I am not unaware of the negatives of Biden's presidency, and I am not trying to elide or forgive them. I'm reblogging posts about the Biden administration because I think it's really important that potential voters in the US realize that there is, in fact, a very big difference between the two parties, and voting for Biden is not just damage control--it actually does good. It's okay, you can actually feel a little excited about making meaningful progress, and not just hold your nose.
He's been very unflashy. He's not a great leader, he's not charismatic and he knows it, but he's an adroit politician and administrator, and he's been getting things done. Letting Trump win at this point would be tantamount to throwing the entire country on the bonfire. It's not a choice between bad and bad, it's a choice between meaningful, if imperfect, progress and fucking doom.
Rand/Avi real??????????? also DRAGONS?????? but more importantly RAND HAD SEX??? WITH AVIENDHA?? DID I START READING A FANFIC ON ACCIDENT what theeee fuck. (positive)
still absolutely cannot wrap my head around how ppl are not condemning the iof and calling for a permanent ceasefire even after the news broke out about hind. she was six years old. trapped inside a bombed car where five of her relatives are martyred. iof tanks laid siege on a six year old girl calling her mom for help. because she was scared and alone and starving. iof waited until the paramedics came to save hind and killed them all. remember hind. remember yousef. remember ahmed. death to israel. ceasefire now.
a reminder that your advocacy for ending the occupation of Palestine should also extend to advocating for Indigenous and First Nations peoples' liberation in your own country. The anti-colonial struggle is a global one. Show up for Indigenous people everywhere you can because we are under occupation almost everywhere. Not to mention the Zionist occupation is supported almost exclusively by the colonial world powers. Your advocacy for the liberation for Palestine must go hand in hand with advocacy for First Nations liberation and Land Back.
i remember being taught by my butch lesbian neighbor how to figure out if a button-down shirt fits properly, and her femme wife teaching me how to tie a tie. it was in my dining room that we used as a makeshift nursery for my sister. the walls were blood red, and the floors and ceiling were dark. the whole world felt like it was suffocating you in that room, much like life felt for me at the time. i was fifteen years old, and it had been seven months since my mother had last spoken to me. my father was drinking. i was failing my classes partially because my brain couldnt stop projecting old home movies onto the backs of my eyelids and i couldnt stay present and partially to see if anyone would notice. no one did. no one but my neighbors.
they invited us over for dinner. the butch always greeted us while the femme finished dinner and we took off our shoes and one would take our coats and the butch would clap her hand on my shoulder, and the femme would touch my elbow gently while she took out my chair. they fed us, we played board games, they talked openly about being gay. they held hands across the dining table, and twirled their wedding rings, neither seeming to notice they were doing it. watching them methodically work, hosting this beautiful dinner, moving together like two pieces of an intricate puzzle, like weaving together yarn and hemp, like gears, like one soul split evenly between two bodies–
i had never seen love like that. i had never met women like them. women who wore athletic sandals in november. women who wore sundresses with denim and cowboy boots and called her wife “sonnyboy,” whose wife was always quite put together, button-down buttoned to the top, tie straight (with the constant help of her wife), hair short & cropped to the scalp all the way round. women who both did the dishes.
i didn’t know love like that was an option. i had only been shown angry, volatile love. i didn’t know i could be a woman like that. or rather, i didn’t know i could be loved as that kind of a woman. i had been taught that women like that are lonely. they’re ugly. but i watched her. her crisp leather jacket, her darkwash, baggy jeans on summer days that she folded once over her brown boots with the yellow shoelaces. she wasn’t ugly. i watched her, and i bought brown boots.
every genius who thinks mandatory two-factor authentication is a good idea should be forced to do tech support for a public library that serves a lot of elderly poor people
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