Yeah, I’m thinking of you. You scrolling Tumblr to escape your country’s facism and cuddle in fictional characters who helped piece together your identity. You writing a novel that’s secretly a queer metaphor. You in Palestine, Ukraine, Russia, China, Singapore, and my beautiful Vietnam. You in red states and small towns that are swallowing you whole. You stuck in Church basements drowning in positive affirmations meant to change you. You on Grindr and Pornhub trying to be a man. You in a library picking up Flamer, Drama, and Nimona for the first time. You on Queering the Map venting a heartbreak. You kneeling and praying to something you don’t believe. You in the ground because the world was not kind, but you were. You in the chrysalis who deserves to emerge. You who are old and thought things would be better. You who are artists and you who are leaders and you who love and fuck and exude color and life.
I’m thinking of you.
