genderkoolaid:

“As the essence of queer, I think of Tim Dean’s work on being queer and queer not as being about who you’re having sex with – that can be a dimension of it – but queer as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and it has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live.”

bell hooks

doberbutts:

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Shared in a public post on FB three years ago, my FB memories just brought this up;

This guy was 67 years old when he started his transition. On the right he is pictured 3 years on T and just recently after his top surgery, so about 70 years old.

It is never, ever, too late for you. I suspect that’s why he shared it the way he did, to show others not to be afraid, if he can do it as a senior citizen it’s okay if you can’t do it as a teen. Live. Survive. And whenever you’re ready, chase your happiness. You deserve it.

i’m swinging in front of the late sunset, cradled in a backyard hammock - the kind that’s left out year-round so now it creaks when it sways and that’s how my husband knows i haven’t fallen asleep. i’m too tired to be anything specifically, but i’m full from holding at least three different types of bird song and the scent of jasmine from my neighbor’s garden. this is what peace feels like today. bones settling where they are with no account to should or desire for otherwise.

spiritofthebackroads:

unknown graves

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thecryptidbard:

When Florence + the Machine said “is this how it is? Is this how it’s always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death and somehow still keep singing?” and when Andrea Gibson said “we have to create. It is the only thing louder than destruction” and when Maggie Smith said “this place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.”

crazycatsiren:

t0bitv:

yeah, its fine, its just how you told me that using mobility aids would be giving up, thats it

Obviously I’m “giving up” by being more mindful of my needs, taking better care of myself, and making my life easier. 🙄

of course i’m giving up! i’m giving up on suffering needlessly!

my forearm crutches reduce the intensity & duration of flare-ups and significantly improve my quality of life. i can move around my house safely and with some dignity instead of clutching at the walls for support or stubbornly forcing myself to walk normally, which usually causes another injury somewhere else.

Keep reading

tiger-in-the-box:

The thing about experiencing frequent, severe pain is that you can get really good at doing normal shit at that level, but it also makes you feel crazy. Like, you feel like it can’t be that bad, because you’re not curled up somewhere screaming. No one else can see your pain, so you appear hysterical, an unreliable communicator of your own experience. And, like, no one gives a shit if you’re in pain, bills and life do not stop just because you’re in pain. So, you start to believe that maybe it’s not actually that bad.

The reality is, though, you are in pain and it happens day after day and it never fucking stops and you just gotta live with that. So, you look at that future, stretching out in front of you, of living and working while internally screaming all the time, of wanting to cry because you can’t take it anymore, of constantly teetering near some breakdown, and you decide to do pain forever.

acti-veg:

‘What would it be like, I wondered, to live with that heightened sensitivity to the lives given for ours? To consider the tree in the Kleenex, the algae in the toothpaste, the oaks in the floor, the grapes in the wine; to follow back the thread of life in everything and pay it respect? Once you start, it’s hard to stop, and you begin to feel yourself awash in gifts.’

Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and The Teachings of Plants