
if i look back, i am lost
taylor price
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Janaina Medeiros
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Cosmic Funnies
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@biteriskangel
They. They forgor
They were opened in AUGUST 2001. Oh my god. That's both hilarious and tragic.
this is a fucking futurama bit
average anti-transfeminist argument
i wish there was a gender neutral answer to politely calling people “son” like an old southern gentleman because something possesses me when i get a smoke in the corner of my mouth
raise your hand if you’d like me to call you Kiddo while i smoke and give unsolicited advice
Save A Horse, Ryder Cowboy! [lancer comm for h3llthing]
Americans be like: My grandpa 😠😠😠 served in the Korean War 😠😠😠 and killed 9 people 😠😠😠 to fund his college degree in clownery 😠😠😠 Respect him or leave the country 😡😡😡🤬🤬🤬
That’s a super light story huh? My great grandfather got killed in action from a land mine to protect this country. If you don’t wanna respect the history or stand for a national anthem😁then leave to your peaceful home and fuck right off
How did your great grandpa stepping on a landmine protect this country
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Can't believe i have to say this but no matter what we can NOT let that suffering child out of the basement, no matter how much you might want to. They would honestly be better off figuring out how to get out on their own, right? Like if one of us tries to let them out then they might feel forced to stay in the basement forever if you think about it. The journey out of the basement is so so important we can't disrupt that right?
Forcefem isn't a fucking kink to me, it hasn't been for a while now. In a world so dead set against letting trans women even think for a second that they can be women, forcefem is about letting those girls know that it isn't wrong or shameful or just a kink to want to be a woman.
I'm sure a lot of the forcefem posters on this website, both of the original flavor and the new and improved formula, do get sexual gratification out of it.
But the thing that I don't think TME forcemasc and/or detrans kink posters understand is that for a lot of us girls, we would've given anything in the world to have someone genuinely look at us and go "Hey. You're a girl. I see it, and I'm going to make it reality."
Forcefem may have started out as a kink rooted in misogyny, but that isn't all it is anymore.
Forcefem is praxis
a lot of my disillusionment with the trans "community" comes down to the fact that too many of you take "gender is different from sex" and go "ah ok, so instead of saying women are fragile and men are strong, I should say afabs are fragile and amabs are strong. to be Inclusive"
then you just treat gender like a surface level aesthetic draped over what someone "actually" is. really is indistinguishable from terf rhetoric
uses my puppy powers to turn all meanies into a fine red mist
@staff happy pride month ur next
Somewhere out there, there's a slime girl who really wants to re-blob your posts
ashenbot now has 1000 followers
huh
500 were too few and 1001 is too much so I’m going to declare a new round where everyone but my sister has to leave.
who’s your sister?
not you
Persona fans are really mad at this because of how accurately portrays how shitty the modern franchise writes its female characters
wizard college is going to kill me I swear to god. I just saw someone without a component satchel reach into their pocket and pull out a handful of LOOSE tapioca to use as a substitute for blood in their fell ritual. and it worked. I've never been so fucking mad.
experiencing microaggressions apparently
i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.