ive been thinking a lot lately.
Am I the reason someone is sad?
What happens after you die?
Does anyone look up to me?
Does somebody use me as a bad example for their kids?
I'm I the hero in somebody's story? Am I the villain?
What would the world be like if I didn't exist?
...
Anyways let's move on.
Ive also been thinking
Death is like rain.
You never think about it until you experience it.
The first time you are made aware of it (be it in a movie, a book, a show or real life) you can't stop thinking about it.
It creeps up on you.
You catch yourself thinking
Is it gonna rain today? (Is someone going to die)
Am I gonna get caught in it? (Am I going to die)
Is my friend going to get caught in the rain? (Is my friend going to die)
Is it going to sprinkle or pour? (Will it be painful or painless?)
And we may be able to move on after it happens, and go about our life, but it's always there.
Looming in the background.
And it will remind you of the fact.
You wish it wouldn't happen again, but you know it will.
At least the rainbows pretty. (At least they are at peace now.)
LGBT+ refugees in Gorom Camp, South Sudan, are currently facing hunger, no clean water or medical care, and daily threats. The war in Sudan has made things worse, and some of them are in hiding, are injured or have lost their lives.
Below is their mission statement
...
Dear friends
I am Frank Qum an LGBTQ person in a sudan refugee camp. I and my fellow LGBTQ refugees face a lot of challenges including homophobia, hunger, lack of medication, lack of bedding and so many other challenges.
We are aiming at raising 5,000 USD to cover all those expenses so that LGBTQ people can get essential necessities like pads, food, medication and bedding so that they aren’t pressured into prostitution. Anything you can give will be of much help towards our survival however small it may be.
We thank you for standing with us in this horrible and traumatizing situation.
yours faithfully
Frank Qum.
HELP THEM
@humanrightsdefenerz32
i cannot believe this.
I was wearing my cloak out today and someone called it a cat.
IT IS CLEARLY A BAT! IT HAS BAT WINGS AN EVERYTHING!
I am offended.
I should probably pin on the nose
My crown is one forged of blood.
Blood of innocents, criminals, lives that could not be saved, It is blood all the same.
However,
This crown forged of blood, Was not forged by me.
Rather it was forged, Then forced upon me.I
could not stop it.
They said
"You alone are worthy of this honor, Now you must earn it."
I thought it was to help, That I would be given a title to live up to. Something like a hero.
I was wrong.
They sent me to kill.
To destroy.
They told me
"These people whom you must end, Are terrible, Horrible, Monsters that would kill us all if left unchecked."
And like a fool, I believed them.
They told me I was a savior, Stopping the world's end!
They told me,
"This is your reward"
As they drained me of myself, My humanity.
My innocence.
When I next awoke, A crown lay on my head.
I was propped on a throne, Unable to move, Unable to speak, Unable to do anything at all.
Like a statue.
I was trapped there, Until she came along.
She did not need to hear my voice or words, To know I was unwilling upon this throne.
She saved me, She ripped the crown from my head, And cradled my limp body in her arms.
She told me
"You'll be alright, I promise it.
You won't die in such suffering, You will not die here."
And I stared at her, Tears rolling down my cheeks.
I was free.
I hope she does not blame herself.
I hope she doesn't mourn.
She could not look at me, She just hugged me, As tight as she could.
I took my final breath,
And the quietest,
"Thank you"
Brokenly echoed in the hall.
She gave me my freedom.
Now,I just hope she lets me go.
(TW for suicidal themes at the end)
The balcony.
My most prominent memory is of the balcony, Leaning against the railing and staring longingly into the sea of stars above my head.
A whisp of a memory from when I was an infant, My mother holding me, Standing on the balcony.
No matter what had happened each day, I always found my way back to the balcony at its end.
My fifth birthday, My sixth, My seventh, All the way through my fifteenth, At every party, The balcony was where I hid.
I met my best friend there, My crush asked my out there, My mother died there.
And that is where I became queen.
Now, So much time has passed, A cycle at least.
Of which cycle I cannot tell, But it is much time nonetheless.
I stay trapped here, On this balcony.
The balcony where my life began, I am trapped.
But I cannot leave.
If I leave they will be forgotten, The people of the balcony memories.
If they are forgotten, They never existed at all.
I am trapped in this balcony.
This balcony where my life began, This balcony where it shall end.
And as I lay there, Looking up at the stars, with the balcony just barely in view, I wonder.
And I hope this will not happen anew.
my biggest achievement is being rickrolled by the country of france
Edit: twice
In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.
P.S: Don't like! Reblog! <3
EDIT: Well this got a lot of attention! I got a few users asking to print or repost my art and I am unimaginably grateful to everyone's interest, especially since it's a really simple drawing I made on a whim haha! Anyone who is looking to print these out to hang or hand out or repost on another platform is free to do so, although I ask you to credit me and let people know it's from my Tumblr profile! If anyone wishes to do anything else with my art or post and wants to clarify what I consent to then they can message me privately and I'll explain! <333 all my love to my queer siblings
EDIT: I made an LGBTQIA+ version with a focus on trans and intersex folks, it's on my pinned if you prefer this version of the acronym.
Don't care what pronouns you use as long as ur polite. Hiya I'm briar! I'm a weirdo! Welcome to the hell that is my blog!
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