Boop

A Beautiful Longhaired Tuxedo Cat Shows Off His New Prosthetic Back Paws After a Severe Injury

feeties

HIM STAND

Prince Caspian ❤️🌿

Photo by Richard Avedon 1995

I know we don’t get happily ever afters in real life. I’m a hopeless romantic, not a total fucking idiot. As my friend, Russell, said to me once, “Even with the happiest couples, one of you dies first.” But first there is such unalloyed joy. We went to the supermarket yesterday and we were wandering around and, at one point, he took my hand, because that’s the kind of thing he does. And instantly, I got flustered. Residual anxiety. Remembrance of past battery. Enduring scars. Even though I know I’m hardly likely to get my head kicked in by the salad bar, PDAs can still make me nervous. And then he said, gentle as anything, and I’m not going to do the accent… “If there’s a gay kid in here with his folks, frightened that he’s a freak, don’t you think that it might give him hope, seeing two guys wandering around, being themselves, getting their groceries, like everyone else?” If happiness is a place… it’s the biscuit aisle in Sainsbury’s. And anywhere else I am with him.

You betrayed me, bed

he?

They told me I would find it difficult to find work because of the way that I look, and they weren’t wrong. I thought “Well I’ll prove you wrong” because I genuinely believed that the world was a more diverse place then they perhaps viewed it to be

reading depressioncomix inspired me to do a little comic about my own day-to-day experience.