i literally never know what to do when people around me are crying for me/things i guess i should be cryin about. like just yesterday when my friend was sobbing and asking me if im ok about this thing thats happening and no im not ok but ive also become incapable of crying for some reason which is not helpful in these situations
i just kinda nod and like, hold my hands out or touch them on the shoulder or look down but i feel guilty or something for not being able to offer more than that shitty performance of grief???
i rly need to learn how to fake cry or it’d be cool if i could cry more than once over a span of 2 yrs
sometimes i try to fake cry in the mirror to ‘fake it till u make it’ but i just burst out laughing
On a serious note though people who idolize serial killers honestly disgust me. Especially when white men who are convicted rapists and murderers are celebrated by wannabe edgy fucks for their “beautifully twisted minds” who wax philosophically about how they shouldn’t be in jail because they’re just poor sensitive lambs lost in society’s evil machine… while black men on minor drug charges rot in jail and no one blinks an eye……
okay so I did a thing. I started a gofundme page on a whim, just based on the fact that what I want to do is a pipe dream unless someone else can help me do it.
I think I explained it all pretty well on the page here but basically what I’m asking for help with is to retrain and start a new job…
I won’t bug y’all too much with this bc it’s not a big story of woe or anything, but it is something I’d very much like to do and can’t afford on my own.
so yeah I’ll just…
foods dangerous to dogs:
- raw bread dough
- grapes and raisins
- onions and garlic
- macadamia nuts
- raw salmon
- xylitol (artificial sweeteners)
if you have a dog please reblog this
i want to disavow myself of any illusions i have of you. but all that i have of you are small, fragmented moments that have created a single image in my mind. you and i, a white room, white sheets, your white linen kurta, your white hair and smile. your soft hand lightly on my hand, my face. you speaking softly as you did, quiet and deep and still in a quiet and still room. the village was constantly bustling with noise, anger, laughter, shouting, honking—but none of that remains in my memory. surely, the cheap cloth curtain naani wove would flutter up and i would see all of the mud and the clothes hanging on the line and the bucket of water to bathe with and be reminded of my location. but your presence was almost vacuum-like. i can’t remember anything but the room, your voice, your stories, your whisper-like touch. when i return to that room now, it is as light and heavy as a memory. i feel as though i am not supposed to be there alone. the room seems to grieve for you, i feel that your sickness has not left the sheets. i try to remind myself that no memory is finished, but it fails to soothe.
i was a child watching your hands shake and the disappointment crease your face as you talked about riots, persecution, standing up for what you believed in and being burnt for it. you spoke with such careful insistence, and i saw it as inspirational. but i was selfish. i drank your words like water without really listening to the person saying them. i’d greedily come to your bedside to listen to your stories of war, divide, exile, and refuge. of course, i knew you were suffering. but this time your body was killing you, not the british, nor sectarian conflict. your whole life was a struggle against oppressions, your consciousness of power dynamics guided your every fight and defeat. you wanted me to know that. i used this as my motivation, but i didn’t notice the note of fear in your tone, or the pauses where you would look away from me as if there was something unbearable in my face. perhaps the life in it. you would say to me, “meri choti churayl. lambi janam jeeyogi, inshaAllah khair”. my little witch. you will live long, god willing. perhaps the only thing we really had in common was that we both looked into the other’s eyes and saw life.
i tried to share your quiet suffering while knowing i could not save you. watching you die taught me futility, while your words forced me to challenge that very notion. this was your empathy for a child. you always wanted me to have a plan beyond you, to forget hopelessness. i would marvel at the silver glint of your hair and in your eyes while the sun burned the earth outside.
i envy others for knowing you better, for longer. but i suppose nothing could really change the fundamental difference between you and i, or you and any other person. when you died, i did not. i lived beyond you, i lived to remember you. for as long as any other person lived beyond you, it is certain that your death was not their death—it was yours, alone.
If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun dream through your singing mouth.
I don’t want your laughter or your steps to waver,
I don’t want my heritage of joy to die.
Don’t call up my person. I am absent.
Live in my absence as if in a house.
Absence is a house so vast
that inside you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air
Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.
MOVING TO NYC - $$ help if you can
I am excited to announce the news below. However, I am asking my community to help if they can. This big move is costing more than I am able to cover. I’m trying to hustle. BUT it has been a ROUGH ROUGH year - losing my job, traumatic breakup, car accident, moving to a new place in March etc. Rather, than a go fund me. I’m just asking community to donate what they can. I’m missing 2,000 - and will continue to hustle (why is moving so expensive). My paypal email is twinkle9045 at gmail.com.
I will be embarking on a new phase in my life in a bit over 2 weeks, I will be moving to New York City - the first place I truly felt I could call home. I will be working as the Director of Outreach & Community Engagement at the Sylvia Rivera Law Project (SRLP) starting in September - a dream job and unexpected wonderful opportunity. I am excited, humbled, and so full of joy to start this new chapter in my life.
It is a tremendous honor and a phase in my life (a milestone). I am so grateful to have the support of so many amazing people, without whom and their love have made what seemed impossible, possible. The pure love and support from mentors, **Family and Ride or Dies. My countless texts / tears / moments of messiness and love from friends and loves who never doubted this or that something major was going to come. SO many folx that have given so much love support and genuine joy. I am beaming and have been full of humility, wonder, and excitement, the moment I found out and continue to be in awe.
After nearly 8 years in Chicago, I feel blessed to have had such nurturing friends, love, friendships that are/have been transformative, and inspirational moments. Even in the challenging and painful times, I’ve had love around me. I’m sure there will be some goodbyes, tears, messiness, and more. But what life change doesn’t have this!!!
I’d give Juana the world if I could. She is a brilliant community leader and she is moving for survival and so she can do some transformational work at the Sylvia Rivera Law Project. Please help her out and signal boost this!
Scarlett Johansson is a Zionist and supports Israel
stop reblogging pictures of her genocide-loving face
also is the current PR face of an Israeli corporation (SodaStream) with factories built on illegally occupied Palestinian land.
so not just a Zionist, she also directly profits off the continuation of Palestinian oppression
and please don’t give me this “your fave celebrities can be ~problematic!!!!” shit, talkin about how i like to pick apart public figures and to just ~let them live~ without accountability
you are literally talking about movies and entertainment while hundreds of Palestinian children are murdered by Israel with no repercussions
The community in Ferguson is struggling to come up with the money to keep their kids fed, since school has been cancelled all this time, yet people have donated over $12,000 to the murderer who started all of this in the last 24 hours alone. Think about that. And then donate to the right cause.