do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets
her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.
remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.
My legs are heavy and tired from treading water. The sky is grey and dark. I have to keep going but I see no sign of land. But I feel hopeless and like giving up. I’m drowning in a literal sense as well as the figuritive sense. Please someone save me. Send me a rope to help pull me out of this hole, before I fall drown again.
(I thought it’d be fun to try to make a monologue in the style of Alice Oseman’s “Radio Silence”
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
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