I believe that anger is grief. We dismiss and label, upon encountering people who are angry a lot, as callous or uncouth or time-bombs. I just can’t believe that life is that goddamned black and white. Many are in a perpetual state of bereavement my darling. So many of us spend our entire lives mourning moments that happened, very early, because no one taught them/us the practice of healthy grieving. For so many of us, we aren’t permitted the time and solitude it takes to “get over” things before life pushes us forward. We have no time to heal before another day or year is thrown on our shoulders and we’re forced to start the fragmentary sorrow all over again. You want to talk about mental health? Then we must, first, address spiritual and emotional health. Imagine a 40-year-old person with years of uncompleted grief on their soul. This is how we are taught to live. Go and buy something, go and pray to something, go and workout, go and eat, go to the film house, go for diverting purposeless sex, go for some romance in the hopes that the love of your partner will save you. It is in these distracting norms that we learn to sin against ourselves and manifest more of the pain we’re avoiding. We are taught everything but the unholy truth- the Mirrored Gospel. That the only way up is through. That the only way out is within. That we must, at all costs, and at all times, belong to ourselves and confront ourselves and save ourselves first. We ought to do this before we go expecting to save someone else or for someone or something else to save us.

Té V. Smith, There is peace and safety and freedom in the mirror (via tevsmith)

O Kypris and Nereids, undamaged I pray you
grant my brother to arrive here.
And all that in his heart he wants to be,
make it be.

And all the wrong he did before, loose it.
Make him a joy to his friends,
a pain to his enemies and let there exist for us
not one single further sorrow.

If Not, Winter, Anne Carson’s translations of Sappho, fragment 5

real-life-lucanite:

I want to see a female Doctor Who. I want to see someone with 900 years of experience of presenting as a white man, suddenly having to navigate the world as a woman. I want The Doctor to walk into an emergency situation and start taking control as always, and being dismissed out of hand, and being totally thrown by it. I want the Doctor to realise that even with psychic paper people are going to be suspicious and questioning of their expertise. I want to see The Doctor being mistaken for their assistant. I want to watch The Doctor, as they realise that people didn’t just listen to them because they were clever, or right, but because they presented as a man. And come to terms with that, and fight back against the institutionalised sexism, whilst also fighting aliens I guess? 

So yeah, I was watching some first season New-Who today and just thinking “I wonder how this scene would have played out if The Doctor were a woman.” and yeah. Food for Thought.  

howler32557038:

Since joining Tumblr, I’ve met a lot of young queer people. Look, I’m a bisexual man in a gay relationship, and I’m approaching 30. I was still a kid when Matthew Shepard’s story was being covered on the news. I remember thinking, “I better keep my mouth shut about these feelings I’m having.”

And then I met Dominic when I was 12, and people could see how in love we were. And we got the shit beat out of us. The year I met him, some kids in the grade above me held me down against the bleachers in our gym and stomped on my hand until my fingers broke. Instead of sending me to the nurse, the teacher sent me to the assistant principal to explain the situation. She asked why the kids had beat me up. I said, “They were calling me gay.”

Her response was, “Well, are you?”

My, “I don’t know,” earned a call to my parents, and I was outed. Efforts were made to keep me from seeing Dom. Throughout high school, Dom’s stepmother intensified these efforts. He slept in the basement of the house. Although he was an incredibly talented student, he was prohibited from participating in any extracurriculars. He suffered a lot of physical abuse during those years.

The day he turned 18, he packed up everything he had and walked to my house, and we’ve lived together ever since. Things are better, but they’re not perfect. I’ve had trucks pull up next to me at stoplights and, seeing the pride sticker on my car, through old drinks and garbage into my window. I no longer speak to my dad’s side of the family. I haven’t been to see them for Christmas or Thanksgiving in years. One of my uncles had cornered me at Thanksgiving when I was 17 and said, “I’m not going to judge you, but I’d be happy to break your neck so God can do the judging a little sooner.”

I joined a support group for trans and intersex people. When I joined, 40 people attended regularly. Within the year, the group was half the size it had been. Some couldn’t make it anymore, because they were staying at the shelter, where their stay hinged on them agreeing to instead to attend homophobic sermons. Some were put in correctional therapy. Five of them died. Three of those, I didn’t know, but I knew Alex, the 19 year old who was fag-dragged in Kentucky and died a day later in the hospital, and I knew Stephanie, who went home to Alabama to care for her mom in hospice and was beaten to death with a baseball bat by her mom’s boyfriend.

Tumblr is not reality. The dynamic here does not reflect the dynamic out there. Here’s the part where I finally make a point, and it might be extremely unpopular – but guys, value your allies. Value each other. We are met with enough hate in our daily lives to enter an online safe-space and meet more hate from our own, over petty things. Don’t go after one another over every little thing you find problematic.

Learn to see nuance. Maybe the word “queer” bothers you, and you see a gay man using it as an umbrella term. Maybe someone called a trans man a trans woman because they’re confused about terminology, but the post where they did it was voicing support for the trans community. Maybe someone is just asking a question, wanting to learn more. Stop. Attacking. These. People.

Allies are being driven away. Members of our own community are being ostracized. Others are feeling nervous and estranged, and it’s largely because of places like Tumblr, where the social justice movement is quickly becoming violent and radical. I am begging you, stop nitpicking “problematic” things and start directing your efforts to create real change. When it comes to comes to your allies, forget the “social justice warrior” mentality and put down your torch. Educate calmly. Be respectful. Be understanding. Be forgiving. And I’m certainly not saying that your anger doesn’t have a good place – when you are met with bigots on the street, congress members who want to pass hateful laws, violent protesters, abusive parents, prejudiced teachers, that is when you need to be a warrior. That’s when it counts. In the real world. When you have the opportunity to protect people from real harm. Attacking your would-be allies via anonymous asks is just going to lose us ground in the long run. And we don’t have time for that, not when trans women of color are being murdered every day, not when states are still fighting against marriage equality, not when there are politicians in office who believe that trans people are possessed by demons, not when we’ve just lost 50 brothers and sisters to one gunman, not when the media won’t even admit that the attack was homophobic.

Please step back. Look at the big picture. Look at where we are, globally. Don’t just log on to your safe space and attack your allies over small missteps. That’s like washing the dishes in a house that’s on fire, kids. Let’s fight on the battlefield, and when we come home to each other, let’s just focus on bandaging up our wounds so we can go out and win the war.

hipstersandcomics:

I used to get mad when men would make jokes about how women’s periods make them irrational, but now I just remember that during Victorian times, a table’s legs were thought to arouse men so they invented table cloths to cover them up so men wouldn’t get erections during dinner

I might cry for no reason but at least I’ve never gotten a BONER for a fucking TABLE

I adore the way fan fiction writers engage with and critique source texts, by manipulating them and breaking their rules. Some of it is straight-up homage, but a lot of [fan fiction] is really aggressive towards the source text. One tends to think of it as written by total fanboys and fangirls as a kind of worshipful act, but a lot of times you’ll read these stories and it’ll be like ‘What if Star Trek had an openly gay character on the bridge?’ And of course the point is that they don’t, and they wouldn’t, because they don’t have the balls, or they are beholden to their advertisers, or whatever. There’s a powerful critique, almost punk-like anger, being expressed there—which I find fascinating and interesting and cool.

Lev Grossman (via mysharona1987)

Why do straight, white, cis guys tend not to write fanfic? Because they don’t need to. (via rendezvouswithenterprise)

It took me many, many years of having my life ruined by Shonda Rhimes to realize that the world won’t end if I stop watching a television show. Just because it once gave me sky high feelings doesn’t mean I have to pull out all the stops to try and prolong the emotional roller coaster ride. When you’ve fangirled for a few decades, you learn to cope with the reality that one day you will wake up, look at a photo of your favorite actress, and discover that the feeling is just…GONE. Or you’ll watch your ship sink and shrug your shoulders, knowing that two more random idiots will soon enter your life and reign supreme. For every ship there is a season. A time to weep, and a time to read every smut fan fic you can possibly find, and a time to move on. The 30-year-old fangirl gets this.

Why Fangirling Is Better In Your Thirties [x]

There wasn’t a word of this that I didn’t nod my head at. Leaving a show behind, quitting a ship, staying out of petty fights, shrugging off haters, picking the friends that matter… fandom is much sweeter the more perspective on life you possess. You realize that the fandom itself doesn’t really matter, but how it enhances your life does. So make your fandom life a happy place. Lord knows no one else will do it for you.

(via callistawolf)

fr4nike:

maddwood:

I’m tired

I’m gay. I’m tired.

I texted one of my best friends this morning and asked, “Did you hear about Orlando?” because the first time I ever went to a gay club and pretended like I was “out” was with him when we were fresh out of high school. Out of all my friends, he’s probably spent the most time in gay clubs. Which means I’m more worried about him than about my other friends. So I texted him.

I’m tired.

They want people to give blood, but it’s gay people who need the blood and it’s gay people who can’t donate. But we’re in crisis mode! We’ll take your tainted gay blood for today only!

I’m tired.

I held hands with a man last week and thought, “Oh no, we’re in a small town in Utah and this is dangerous because we’re both gay,” before I remembered that he’s a guy and I’m a girl so no, it’s not dangerous. But the next time I hold hands with a girl, will someone see us and get mad enough to shoot 50 gay people? Will I feel responsible when I read the news? Will I feel like a danger to society for being gay?

I’m tired.

I went to Pride in Salt Lake City last weekend and I complained as I stood in line in the hot sun and I complained about the ticket prices and I complained about the festival being smaller than it was last year and I complained. When it was over, I was still alive. I’m still alive. I can’t believe I complained.

I’m tired.

Bury your gays. Currently on television, 4 percent of characters identify as LGBT. In 2016, about 40 percent of that 4 percent have already died. Yesterday, that might’ve been the issue I wanted to discuss. Yesterday, I might’ve been angry about fictional gays dying. Yesterday. Art imitates life, life imitates art, and I am tired.

I’m tired.

A year ago I put a rainbow flag around my shoulders and celebrated the legalization of gay marriage in the United States. A year ago there was no law banning transgender people from using the bathroom of their choosing. A year ago a man hadn’t shot 50 gay people dead because he saw two men kissing and got angry. “Now that gay marriage is legal, what more do you people want?” Well, I want to stay alive, for one thing.

I’m tired.

There aren’t gay coffee shops or gay restaurants – there are gay nightclubs. Gay nightclubs where LGBT people can meet other LGBT people and feel safe. I want to meet other LGBT people and make friends with LGBT people, but I also don’t want to die.

I’m tired.

My existence is controversial. Even though I’m out, I have to be careful about how “gay” I “act.” What happens if I’m at work and offend a customer? What happens if someone I know reads these words and decides to punish me for them? What happens if someone gets so angry about my sexuality that they shoot 50 people?

I’m gay. I’m tired.

#WeAreTired