i speak often of nothing

they/he. 21. riot.

[riot-rambled]

In no specific order. Everything is my own, all from various stages of my life when it felt like the truth.

[riot-rambled]

high but make it the kind where you become incessantly aware that your mother has also felt the deep, hungry feeling of sadness that comes from just wanting to be loved by your mother. And her mother before her felt that way. And her mother before that. The kind of sadness that feels like a stone in your stomach and the type of crying that leaves you empty. I wish that my mother's mother had known what it was like to find a mother who really cared about her. I am sorry that her mother didnt love her how she needed, even if it only lasted one day. Even an hour of that kind of sadness takes the wind out of you.

[grendel-menz]

Hey y'all -- I'm making this post on behalf of Sami and his family, who are currently suffering in Gaza. You can find their fundraiser here. I think (especially) in a time where people are experiencing so much cruelty, it's our duty as humans living in the world to try to help others the best we can. We've all wished for someone to be there for us in a time of need, and we can be that for other people.

Sami's family has a lot of young children and I ask you to please consider donating if you have the means-- even something small-- or reblogging to circulate their fundraiser. Anything helps! Thank you so, so much for even reading. FUNDRAISER.

[grendel-menz]

They're currently at 84%! They need less than 600 to get to 85%.

[riot-rambled]

11.7.24

I'm speechless

I'm afraid

There's people dying

They are running out of soil

In land that is taken from them

The bones of their ancestors

Being smashed

Before their eyes

My sisters weep

Their stomachs hurt

Their hearts are shattered

Years of planning and preparation

All for nothing

Millions of fears

What ifs

Caution

None of it is enough

My beautiful siblings

Their trans souls

Are forced back into hollow shells

That have never felt like home

The pain is immense

Gargantuan

Too big for a small body to handle

Hearts frozen

Calls and preparations made

The fear is too much

My body was not meant

To handle this much grief

All at once

[riot-rambled]

11.5.24

eve tilts her head back

ready to recieve the body

and the blood

of christ

but adams apple is lodged

in her throat and

she chokes

the mother of cain

holding on to what remains of able

when she screams

a thousand women

feel their ribs split open

like flowers blooming

do you feel her?

do your greedy hands,

dirt and flesh under your nails,

rip her open

and pluck

the first sin

from her neck?

[riot-rambled]

9.30.22

In history, there has always been this confusion between friendship and romanticism.

I used to believe that that was willful ignorance, that we would rather hide our queer sisters and brothers behind smudged ink and stained paper.

But now I know that that is not true.

Now I understand that it is likely that the authors themselves didn't know.

It is often that I find my pen and ink spilling over before I quite understand what it means.

[riot-rambled]

11.9.2021

I am lost.

I have wandered down a path in the middle of the night.

My lantern is heavy, my feet are tired and I am lost.

I took this path with direct intention, studying a map and trailing red string behind me.

My memory is foggy, the map is smudged with tears, and the red string broke two hours ago.

This was supposed to be good.

I had taken his path because I was told that I was broken and needed and wanted and wished to be fixed.

But this path is long and dark and my candle is flickering and I feel more broken than when I had started.

The trees are taller than I could ever be and the shadows are waiting for me to take one wrong step.

There are eyes watching me, waiting for me to fall.

Those eyes want me, thinking that I will be their next meal.

How do they not understand that I am simply bone with shadows hiding underneath.

I still feel alone.

I had taken this path to try healing.

Just like you had taken your chance to leave me.

I read the sign at the door saying that this path would be ugly but I decided that you were beautiful and meant more than my sadness.

I am lost and you have let me walk aimlessly, locking the door behind me.

You will take that key and wear it around your neck.

They told me not to go alone.

But you had decided it would help more if I went without you by my side.

Now it is dark and I don't want to keep on going.

It is a sheer drop and I am small and would fall into the water like a pebble in a pond.

And yet I keep walking.

I feel as if I stop, the forest will start to take hold.

First with vines up the legs.

Moss will grow on my fingers.

My lantern will fill with light and pour over.

I will turn to stone.

I will become a sad statue for a weary traveler, warning them to keep moving.

But you did always love art museums, would it be worth it?

I am lost and I am alone and I don't want to keep on going.

Yet I do because I am afraid that if I stop, you will lose all hope in me.

Or have you done that already?

They warned me that when you are willing to get lost for someone, you should make sure that they want to find you.

Do you want to find me?