...not Gonna Cry

Please stay safe.

Any Black female who lives in Oakland

Do not go to the liquor store on 90th and MacArthur, around 10-14 Black men will be standing out there with vans and they will try to snatch you up, the Arab dudes who own the liquor store are in on it do not go there during the night, if it wasn’t for my boyfriend being with me last night they would have got me #staywoke

Why is ‘plus size’ even a thing? Like why can’t I just be any other size? God forbid we allow people to be different without alienating them. I just want to shop with my friends. I just want to have clothes that aren’t cheetah print or look like they belong to a sixty year old woman. I just want to be treated as if my size was a second thought. Why is the world made for skinny girls?

if ur an IT/ST stan reblog this so i can follow u let’s be friends

I'm still here hon, still here

IT pulled me into a true fandom but now I feel like I’m one of the few who still here.

Repost if you’re still here I need to know how many of us are left

i made two cause my bi ass couldnt pick 🤧

A very insidious form of transmisogony is that there can never be a positivity post for trans women without people (usually afab trans people) either derailing it OR reminding them about terfs and it’s ONLY for trans women- it’s much less often that anyone will mention “transphobes don’t look at this” on posts for trans MEN.

Trans women can’t exist without everyone reminding them that someone out their hates them, even people in their communities, and we as allies HAVE to do better. Instead of saying “terfs don’t look at this” or whatever preformative allyship floats your boat- deplatorm terfs, block them and STOP ENGAGING, and uplift trans fem voices!!!

As a Jew I rarely see “Nazis don’t even breathe on this post” when it’s Jewish positivity, but I ALWAYS see it on anything even REMOTELY related to trans fem things. It’s transmisogony, simple as that

As someone who had to deal with grief at an early age, I’ve found that it never truly dissipates. Grief doesn’t end. It simply builds. After the flood of “caring” neighbors and forgotten friends stop coming, you’re stuck with the quiet. Forced to think of the big life moments your lost will never see and the absence of new memories. Then, the old memories make their way. That one song that reminds you of that one fishing trip. The smell of their favorite dish. The bluebirds that they told you to never trust, despite their beauty. The bitter sweetness of the remembrance of when that person was still present is the hardest form of grief to feel. It is never ending.

I know I’m super late to the game, but I just finished The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. My heart has been ripped from my chest and I will not recover from this. But all in all it was a 10/10 👍🏻

To all my black followers and friends, stay safe.

Also, I would like to add that black lives have always mattered, will always matter.

It’s awful that we even have to say that because it should be a given. However, we need to say it loud and clear for the racists.

We cannot be silent.