cymamoremocha

[cymamoremocha]

“The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I’m not a trannie or a fag so I don’t care, just give ‘em the medicine they need.”

“This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility.”

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

[cymamoremocha]

yep

#yup

[cymamoremocha]

every time i remember that photo of the little inuk girl with her puppy i engage in inconsolable hysterics

[cymamoremocha]

[cymamoremocha]

[cymamoremocha]

I don’t even care who fucking wins the presidency this year look at this

[cymamoremocha]

the thing about the "um excuse me if you're as poor as you say you are why don't you just sell all your most treasured possessions" thing that people love to trot out as some kind of "gotcha" is that they do not acknowledge how fucking soul-crushing it is to be in a situation that is already destroying your mental health and then be forced to sell one of the few things in your life that still bring you joy

[cymamoremocha]

STAR WARS: EPISODE V: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK (1980) dir. Irvin Kershner

#yo

[cymamoremocha]

theres something inherently holy about kitchens

[cymamoremocha]

[cymamoremocha]

"Protect bad drag" is like every other "protect bad art" to me. Because if you only ever see the most polished and editorial final product, you'll never think that you can begin making that same art. You'll think you've been priced out of expressing yourself. You'll think beauty is behind a paywall. And that is poison, 100% of the time.

[cymamoremocha]

grief is so crazy like what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. does she know i loved her. i miss her so much. i catch myself doing things she used to do. i wish i could call her. i miss her so much. i do a crossword puzzle. i cry while washing the dishes. does she know i loved her? my heart feels like a hummingbird. i miss her so much. what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. what if i forget.

[cymamoremocha]

[cymamoremocha]

i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

[cymamoremocha]

REV UP THOSE DATAS

[cymamoremocha]

im being so fucking for real and i need you guys to boost and reblog this you nonblack selfshippers have got to stop using "simp." you have to. its african american vernacular english (aave) which in colloquial terms means its not for you to use. in a space already hostile towards shippers of color, youre just making it more inhospitable to black selfshippers by appropriating our language. say youre crushing. say youre obsessed. say youre head over heels, say youre a sucker, say youre infatuated, just stop saying simp. for the love of god

{nonblack shippers [even other shippers of color] i do NOT want to hear your opinion on this post or hear about how you "didnt know" or are "changing it right now." just be an ally and LISTEN instead of needing to add your piece.}

[cymamoremocha]

I am the spider-killer in my family

Like I’m the bravest

Like it’s a joke

Standing on a chair to reach

With a tissue or a shoe

Before she could spin her way down

To sew our eyelids shut

Because she saw her ancestors die

For the crime of continuing to live

In the warmth and the dust gathered

In the rafters and the looms

After they taught our ancestors how to weave

All the forgotten corners and repressed memories

We weren’t using anyway

My dad used to chuckle

As he used a lighter and a can of hairspray

This is kinder, I thought

And still I stood to pinch out her life

Not checking for movement

In her shriveled little legs

And threw her in the toilet

Making sure to draw 4 clockwise circles in the air

To remind her

She has no family.

“Nik’ei adin. Nik’ei adin. Nik’ei adin. Nik’ei adin.”

why is this about to make me sob