Stranger Things
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Product Placement
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Kiana Khansmith
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Love Begins

tannertan36
cherry valley forever
RMH
d e v o n
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Origami Around
Keni
Claire Keane
Show & Tell
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@arissacox

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βMy town was voted best small town in America. It was very upper middle class, and white. I was neither of those things. Other kids would touch my hair. Iβd look out of the corner of my eye, and theyβd always wipe their hand. It would be like: βDid that really happen?β But I never wanted to say anything. Because people in my town were progressive. They werenβt βlike that.β I remember climbing a rope swing in gym class, and the teacher started making monkey noises. Iβm laughing. Iβm trying to be in on the joke, but itβs painful. I felt so othered. Being gay didnβt help things. I was afraid of the bus ride. Afraid of the cafeteria. The only time I felt confident was when I was doing drugs: first cocaine, then crystal meth. Drugs made me feel whole; even if I was emaciated, even if I hadnβt slept in six days. In 2010 I finally entered recovery. Iβd met a lot of black and brown users on the streets, but these meetings were all white people. Recovery is about being honest. But my trauma was racial. And this didnβt feel like a safe place to express that. I sat in the back. I didnβt speak up. Michael was the opposite of me. He was black, and queer, and HIV positive, but he wasnβt embarrassed. He was very: βThis is who I am.β Heβd just joined the seminary. He was reading James Baldwin. He was being mentored by Cornell West. He was on a high. After one meeting he gathered the black members of the group, and said: βWhy donβt we have brunch?β There were four of us. We met at Michaelβs apartment in Harlem. We could finally speak about how racism fueled our addictions. But it was more about what wasnβt said. We laughed, and cried. Our bodies relaxed in a way theyβd never relaxed before. Since then our group has grown to over 30 black, queer former meth addicts. We meet every month. We have lunch. We take trips together. Last Sunday we had a βFriendsgivingβ thing. At the end of that first meeting, Michael gave us a prompt: βWhat does this mean to you?β And each of us were given five minutes to speak. βI was super afraid of coming here,β I said. βBecause I didnβt feel black enough. Iβve never had close black friends. But this is what Iβve been looking for my whole life.ββ
Claire said βomg this is where DaβVonne was sitting last seasonβ I love a woman with the right priories
Me ignoring the tag discourse because itβs too early for yβall to be getting mad at folks
βI finally found the energy to come outside. It had been a long stretch of watching nice days go by. Itβs easy to get into the prison of routine. But this morning my mom poured me a cup of orange juice. She had this song playing in the kitchen: βFor The Good Times,β by this old, southern artist named Al Green. Really old, even before your time. But I love it. It got me going. And by the time I finished my orange juice, I said: βIβm doing it. Iβm going outside today.β There was a moment of doubt when I was in the shower. There was some hair frustration. I was trying to detangle it, and it didnβt want to work with me. So I was about to give up. I was about to head back to bed. But I pushed through, and on the way out the door I grabbed my new skateboard. I just got it yesterday, $230, but worth it. Rides extra smooth. I caught the Q11 Bus to the Jamaica Avenue subway, and I didnβt even pay at the turnstile. I did this thing where the skateboard went under, and I jumped over. I did it in front of a bunch of people. And I felt like a boss: βyah, you saw me.β There were some women there, and not a lot of women skateboard. So I put one on for the girls. Rode the E-train straight into the city. Itβs a long ride, but at least I never had to switch trains. And now Iβm here. Thereβs good music playing. Everyone is doing something different. And the weather is perfect. The wind is blowing, but not enough to mess up my hair. Itβs completely clear. The sun is on my skin. There arenβt any clouds going over, trying to make me chilly for a few minutes. If I get too hot, Iβm just gonna wander into the shade. Itβs up to me. Itβs one of those days Iβm in complete control.β

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diversity win! you are the gay cousin!
βIn 1984, when Ruth Coker Burks was 25 and a young mother living in Arkansas, she would often visit a hospital to care for a friend with cancer.
During one visit, Ruth noticed the nurses would draw straws, afraid to go into one room, its door sealed by a big red bag. She asked why and the nurses told her the patient had AIDS.
On a repeat visit, and seeing the big red bag on the door, Ruth decided to disregard the warnings and sneaked into the room.
In the bed was a skeletal young man, who told Ruth he wanted to see his mother before he died. She left the room and told the nurses, who said, βHoney, his motherβs not coming. Heβs been here six weeks. Nobodyβs coming!β
Ruth called his mother anyway, who refused to come visit her son, who she described as a βsinnerβ and already dead to her, and that she wouldnβt even claim his body when he died.
βI went back in his room and when I walked in, he said, βOh, momma. I knew youβd comeβ, and then he lifted his hand. And what was I going to do? So I took his hand. I said, βIβm here, honey. Iβm hereβ, Ruth later recounted.
Ruth pulled a chair to his bedside, talked to him
and held his hand until he died 13 hours later.
After finally finding a funeral home that would his body, and paying for the cremation out of her own savings, Ruth buried his ashes on her familyβs large plot.
After this first encounter, Ruth cared for other patients. She would take them to appointments, obtain medications, apply for assistance, and even kept supplies of AIDS medications on hand, as some pharmacies would not carry them.
Ruthβs work soon became well known in the city and she received financial assistance from gay bars, βThey would twirl up a drag show on Saturday night and hereβd come the money. Thatβs how weβd buy medicine, thatβs how weβd pay rent. If it hadnβt been for the drag queens, I donβt know what we would have doneβ, Ruth said.
Over the next 30 years, Ruth cared for over 1,000 people and buried more than 40 on her familyβs plot most of whom were gay men whose families would not claim their ashes.
For this, Ruth has been nicknamed the βCemetery Angelβ.ββ by Ra-Ey Saley
Sheβs 60 now, sheβs still doing activist and advocacy work, and working on a memoir.
She published her book November of 2020
even all the way in dallas, gay men in the late 80s/early 90s said her name with reverence.
He gotta go.
team fun feeds I want him to stay
jdkshfskdjf

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amelia earhart disappeared because she crashed her plane while me and her were smoking a fat blunt in the cockpit itβs true
6 nominees in the first week
Bbcan9 tag thinking first week would be better this time
why did bbcan do that to us why did they give us that dolls edit KNOWING WHAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN WHY DID THEY DO IT WHY GIVE ME HOPE

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Final three is gonna be the two white men and the cop and Global is gonna pat themselves on the back for having two queers and a black woman in the finale.
I need BBCAN to abolish the first week eviction we as a society have move passed first week evictions