Lost her and it’s all my fault
spotted in LA #blacklivesmatter
I don’t get why I’m becoming the person I hate the most towards the person I love more than anything I get so angry at times and I don’t know how to control or deal with it
I honestly don’t feel like being alive anymore my life is shit and it’s all my fault
You kiddos have no idea how groundbreaking this was. Like there’s a reason THE lesbian website for a billion years was called After Ellen. She changed everything.
a secret code between women: are you safe? in a contact of eyes. i’m here if you need me, the littlest shift of a skirt, of an inclined head, of watching the man who is asking you to smile, bitch. you aren’t alone on the walls of restrooms, i was where you are too. the quiet doling of emergency numbers, the shelters. the space between two women in a largely empty train station. the waiting game of two women strangers who walk, quietly and quickly, to their cars in abandoned parking lots, who watch to be sure the other leaves safely. text me you get home safe. the tally marks of drinks on hidden wrists, carefully disguised as other things ever since men picked up on what it meant and used it to target the “weakest link.”
my father tells me we have nothing to worry about. last night he sent me one of those email chains that say at the top “Safety Tips For The Women In Your Life!!!! Don’t Let Her Die!!”
me, and the stranger on the train. she is asleep and the man is asking me who i am going home to. i feel tears pricking the sides of my eyes. i am 13 while he towers over me. he reaches out one hand, and while i don’t know how she knows, she speaks up without opening her eyes: “If you touch my daughter, sir, I will murder you.” Whatever he grumbles is lost in history, because this moment I am so grateful for the existence of other people that I cannot breathe.
I am 19 and on my phone when i become aware of a 13 year old girl is smiling nervously at a man who’s saying disgusting things. I grab her arm. “There you are, cindy,” I say, and then look at the man like he is bile. “Do you need something from my sister?” i ask, and i walk away with her. she cries later.
this is the way of things: a silent, secret web. our promise to each other that despite our differences, when it comes to the wire, we become family, instantly. the unspoken promise. i’m here. i’m watching. i’ll witness.
only americans know the true pain of hearing this
Imagine kid you watching your favorite kids’ network. It goes to commercial. Every single time it cuts to commercial this whole thing plays in its entirety. You’ve seen it so much you know every word, every piece of music, all the words and the exact entonation in which they say it
That’s hell. Having the Shirley temple little darling dvd collection commercial permanently ingrained in your brain.
it has been many years since i have seen this commercial, and i can recite it word for word. op, what have you done