Mental Breakout

The horrors persist

i saw the words “ur not the first person in your lineage to be queer” and it’s rocking me to my core. how many generations down the line did one of my ancestors feel the way i did, feel differently than i did and so damn queerly it was a crime? how many of us were there? did they have hope? did they find peace? i don’t know. at the very least, maybe i am proof their identity was never wasted. reincarnated.

In honor of Lord Byron’s birthday I would like to remind you all of the time that Shelley and Keats, having not heard from him for some time, became concerned for his safety and it was determined that Shelley would go looking for him. Keats received a letter some time later that Shelley had found him in Venice, where he’d been having so much sex that he’d nearly died from malnourishment and dehydration. Keats’ entire response amounted to essentially, “You should probably have let him.”

“I found him, he’s in a gutter.” “Well go put him back”

The Romantics really got into some shit.