aRI

they/them; 

[istartedwritingagain]

when life felt good

..and then suddenly you're back in your bright pink crocs and chino shorts, standing on the porch of the resort your parents took you to for summer. You can hear the crickets in the dark lawns singing. You can see the soft glow of the lamps onto garden path. The air has cooled down and you can here the horn of the train blare from a distance. These were the few days you could genuinely enjoy without watching any TV, something that would have been quite an achievement for an 8 year old like you. You don't remember the trip way too vividly but you could see the lamps at the hotel restaurant, the cabbage field trip and ziplining at another. You could hear insects you could have never seen back at home. Fireflies glow against your window at night, as you try to catch them in the jar, only to be leaving them a couple minutes later because you wouldn't want to be treated that way. You knew that there was going to be a magic show in the hotel lawn at 7 pm, but what you didn't know was that it was arranged for by your parents. You remember the trip you took with your father down the market lane to look for the perfect gift for your sibling. You remember the ballpark and chasing the rabbits and the costume you begged to put on for a few pictures. You remember the barbie you cried for, and the kid who pushed you off the baby slide at the airport. You remember counting the trains visible from your hotel room for hours on end. You didn't have any homework to worry about, or counting the percentage you'll require to pass the grade. You remember the late night disney movies your parents wouldn't approve of. You remember having mangoes out of the crate when you'd cover every inch of your ancient home to have the Air condition on. You remember everything that's when life treated you fair, when life treated you well.

[mylastnameissingh]

Recounting the specific memories that you still hold dearly because there's absolutely nothing you wouldn't give to be back in a swimming pool, splashing the people around and then take your wobbly legs across the buffet hall after spending half a day in the water.

I think I was genuinely happy back then.

And at the same time, I did start to realise that there's not a single thing that has stayed the same. Everyone grew up, fought for their place in the world, and gave up on love.

[andreii-tarkovsky]

To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (1995)

Dir. Beeban Kidron

[brehaaorgana]

This was such a formative movie

[musicalhell]

This shit was revolutionary for the mid-90s. Among other things it helped me understand that transgender and cross-dressing were completely separate things.

[aqueerkettleofish]

To this day, I am in awe of the fact that Patrick Swayze not only campaigned hard to get the audition, not only auditioned in dress and makeup, but spent most of the day leading up to the audition walking around LA in dress and makeup.

This was a man who could sing, dance, act, ride a horse, fight, and walk in heels, he had nothing to prove to anyone, and he is MISSED.

[aqueerkettleofish]

Okay, I’m not done feeling about this.

If you’re younger, you may not know Patrick Swayze; he was Taken From Us in 2009. But Patrick Swayze was an icon of masculinity. Men were willing to watch romantic movies because Patrick Swayze was in them.

Patrick Swayze was fucking beefcake.

And this man didn’t just agree to do a movie where the only time he’s not actually in drag is the first three minutes, which involve stepping out of the shower, doing make up, and getting Dressed. He has ONE LINE that is delivered in a man’s voice, and it’s not during those three minutes.

And if you watch those three minutes, you see a stark difference between his portrayal of Miss Vida Bohéme and Wesley Snipes as Noxeema Jackson. (I am not criticizing Snipes’ performance. They were different roles.) Noxeema was a comedy character. Chi-Chi was a comedy character. But Miss Vida Bohéme was a dramatic role, played by a dramatic powerhouse.

When Vida sits down in front of the mirror, she sees a man. And she doesn’t like it.

Then she puts her hair up, and her face lights up.

“Ready or not,” she says. “Here comes Mama.”

And while Noxeema is having fun with her transformation (at one point breaking into a giggling fit after putting on pantyhose), Vida is simply taking pleasure in bringing out her true self. And when she’s done, she sees this:

And you can FEEL her pride.

All of this from an actor who, up to this point, walked on to the screen and dripped testosterone.

[jenroses]

It matters that this happened in 1995. It wouldn’t fly today, wouldn’t be the right choice, we’ve moved past it, but it mattered and was important that it happened the way it happened today. It’s one of the stepping stones.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Today I’ve discovered that my mom has never seen this movie and we’re about to make a movie night out of it! She’s so excited.

[istartedwritingagain]

"Don't mind me, I'm just insecure, But it's always the pretty ones who have it all"

[istartedwritingagain]

apologies

I'm so sorry for what i did to you Selfishness took over me and I let it Anger and pride followed suit and I let it

I let the incompetency guide me I let the harshness speak I let the immaturity play

i hurt the ones i love the most and i love like a poet deep and profound unlike my actions, shallow and cheap

no excuses, i promise i'm flawed, down to all my crevices i tried to rip my heart out for you but the stubbornness held it back holding it by its claws

i didn't know love didn't know friendship i still don't and i guess i will never learn, never love.

[mylastnameissingh]

best friend break ups

they suck the most. you never stop mourning for it. you wonder if they think about you the way you do. if they stare at your contacts, hoping you'd call, or should they reach out first, you never know. you don't know if it was all real or not. if it hurt them as much as it hurt you. you mourn the chances you never took or gave to fix it. or even to talk it out. if they look at your photographs together, thinking if it was a mistake. the jokes you cracked in the classrooms, laughing until your ribs ached, doing things just for them. maybe some things just aren't meant to be. It might seem that things are going to last forever in the moment. but that picture perfect idea breaks like a vase knocked over. the end hurts as much as the shards slicing your hands. and there is no putting it back together.

[writing-prompt-s]

You’re the mustache twirling bad guy who must marry the innocent girl for your scheme to succeed. After your wedding she presents you with her plan to expand your schemes. She’s much more devious and evil than you.

[garcavisconde]

Which is how she convinced me to marry her.

(… That, and she called me a moron when I first tried to kidnap her, before attempting to do the same to me. She, of course, failed due to having no experience. You can say it was love at first stupid decision)

[istartedwritingagain]

I want it to rain so bad it hurts The soothing patter of the raindrops in the middle of the night. The soft rumbling of the clouds that stirs your bones. The wet grass and massive puddles that lure you into staying in, enjoy the rain, love life again.

I feel like I know the rain personally. Like an old friend. A comfort person. The sound the drizzle makes as if they are knocking at my door, fully aware of my heart welcoming them.

I love the kisses from the sky as I face heaven. The sweet murmur of the brooks that sends a chill down your spine.

The streetlights and the headlights reflecting their glow on the wet asphalt as you drive toward home. So calm, so serene.

I want it to rain so bad it hurts

To have someone cuddled against you, feeling the warmth of their breath on your neck. The comfort of their being against yours. Having to stay in because other places are shut and realising board games are actually fun.

I love the rain so much it hurts, because the rain feels like an emotion I cannot explain, but only show.

[istartedwritingagain]

a little longer

The train is here, it's getting late. You need to board it, or else you'll have to wait another hour for the next one. "Text me when you get home" I say, motioning towards the open door, internally wishing we had spent more time together. You stay, don't move, the train might leave any second. I gesture you need to leave before it gets too late. You grin, looking at me in my eyes. The train blares its horn and starts moving, you step closer to me and whisper "I'm not done spending time with you yet". I lean closer, "Our parents would kill us if we get home late" I whisper back. "It's worth it, if it means I get to spend a few more minutes with you" you pause, "Everything is worth it, if I can stay with you just a little longer".

[mylastnameissingh]

man please follow my other blog hehe

[blackness-by-your-side]

my utopia

[gentlyepigrams-deactivated20180]

The drag queen from this photo has spoken up about the photo.

I won’t speak for all liberals, but I’d like to see a future where it isn’t a big deal for a woman in full modesty garb to sit next to a drag queen in NYC. It’s become a bit of a sensation, but her and I were just existing. The freedom to simply be yourself in a sea of people who aren’t like you is a freedom we all deserve.

[theroguefeminist]

The central irony is that this isn’t some hypothetical future–it’s just present day reality. This is a picture of two ordinary people going about their normal lives despite how haters want to politicize it lmao. So the underlying message is not “future liberals want” it’s “people conservatives want to eradicate”

[counterpunches]

the underlying message is not “future liberals want” it’s “people conservatives want to eradicate”

[istartedwritingagain]

I've been on Autopilot for a few years now. There are moments when I feel like I need to take the wheel, but it gets so overwhelmed I lock myself in the bootspace again. I can't cope, I am not who I thought I was, and it is disappointing, I need help but I don't think I can be helped. Day in and day out I try to be the best of me, but it never just happens. I am rotting in this prison i have created for myself.

I don't have any motivation, or any urge to do anything at this point. There's zero scope with what I'm supposed to do with myself as time passes and this time I cannot "only time will tell" out of this.

It's pitiful how much I victimize myself, absolutely dreadful. Like, oh my god, have mercy on me for I am just a damaged little plant who needs a little sunshine.

[pukicho]

Me when I’m angry: ARHHHHGGHJHHHHHAHHAHAHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHOJJR OOUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ROGUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OHGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHGHGHGHHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHGGHHGHGHFGH RroahhhhHARHHHHHH

[mylastnameissingh]

My stomach in 8am lectures because I refuse to eat breakfast:

[istartedwritingagain]

dear father,

you once asked me why does a person lie. I was only 13, I didn't have an answer. Although it was quite simple, nobody lies for fun unless they really need help. A normal answer would include to save themselves from the consequences. I lied too. What consequences do I had to save myself from? I didn't need protection from anything. I was safe (or was I?), growing up in a place I knew as my home. So tell me father, why was I afraid of the consequences. Why was I afraid of your presence? of your phone calls? of your questions? A kid isn't supposed to be scared of their parents. You're supposed to be my first home, my sanctuary, but I didn't get that. Tell me father, why did I, your own child, feel incomplete even after having everything? Why do I have to feel different from the start? Why did I always need to stand out. Is there anything wrong with being normal? It is not fun begging for your forgiveness just so I could escape this silent treatment. It wasn't fun feeling threatened every time I was around you. You needn't demand respect, unless you're worthy of it. Why should we do it then? You wanted me to engage with your hobbies, but did you ever seek interest in mine? Or were you just busy dismissive because that's how parenting works right? It's upon me to heal the damages you've inflicted on me. And it has not been easy. For you it's just a mere few words to gain the sympathy of the crowd, but for me, it's the numerous playlists of sad songs, unsolicited trauma dumping, sleepless nights or nightmares for dreams. A child shouldn't be scared of their parent. "If you can't make them love you, make them fear you." but you didn't give me a chance to love you. You called me selfish, egoistic. But mother says I am exactly like you. I guess looking into your reflection wasn't that fun. But let me ask you this. Are you happy with who you are? Because you were certainly not happy with me. you were my role model, and now you're someone I wouldn't wish to become like

[mylastnameissingh]

Coming from a broken home, where being silenced was the only way of parenting, opening up has been very hard. I used to think I lived in a very nice environment, but growing up I realised, this was the opposite of what I needed as a child, what I deserved.

Now, it hurts I'll never be able to tell my father all the things I wish I did. But again, I don't owe telling him anything. He did what he did, and irrespective of how he's living, I have to live with this version of myself that I've grown to hate.

My heart goes out to everyone who are not safe in their own homes, from their toxic families, from shitty parents, because "they're still your family" is not an excuse to invalidate your bitterness toward them. Because if they're still your family, so are you theirs, and they haven't done any better job handling you

[istartedwritingagain]

God, if loving her is a crime, then I await my sentence

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

[shitpostinguniverse]

[istartedwritingagain]

So hard to love

I want to know what you see in me Because you clearly need glasses

I want to know, why is feeling unloved by default more acceptable than knowing you deserve the love. Why does one doubt itself, of its capacity to love. Why is love so scarce. 8 billion people and I'm sure no one thinks of me as they fall asleep. What is your ulterior motive because i cannot stay with myself any longer. What is this feeling. Self hatred or self loathe. The worst type of Hate. Because it's the kind of relationship you have with yourself. The only one who's always by you is you. I don't feel the pang of loneliness at night, when I'm alone. I feel it every day, every second of it, what is this disease that i cannot rid myself of it. Feelings are strong but yet so meaningless. Is it me? How have i become so unlikable. Why haven't people told me how i really am. This facade is stuck to my face and pulls my skin when i try to take it off. when did I become so desperate for validation. This is not what I fought for my life for. ari wouldn't be happy. I'm living for her, because she didn't survive for me to give up now.

Hurting and healing

I hurt everyday, like a thorn in my chest, and broken glass running through my veins instead of blood, cutting me from every inch within my body. Aching, hurting. About whom, about what, you may ask. Frankly, I don't know. and I am not willing to find out. The deeper I get, the more damage it does.

[thememedaddy]

[mylastnameissingh]

Me: I wish people would notice me and compliment me, or talk about something I do

Also me as soon as people talk about me:

[itskarmaart]

We’ve all watched the same show right?? Wenclair am I right?