my Diary

i always found a cruel irony in apocalypse movies: there's often a scene where white pretty women cry while putting their children into an emergency vehicle. the husband will do something stupid, kiss his wife, say goodbye, and push her into safety while giving his life.

in the real world, while our air is on fire: nobody is kissing the women and children. nobody is worried about saving them. there is no real movement for child poverty. no real action taken about school shootings. black women and trans women and women like me - we don't even fit into the picture. cleanly erased from the movie.

i think these men maybe watch these movies and picture themselves as the last stand of humanity. the last bastion. that they would face down the end without turning away.

it must be nice; to only worry about being a hero in extreme circumstances. that for you, it's a tuesday - and for me; the boat has been a long time sinking. it must be nice, that you and yours can look away and wait for the end of the storm. to chew popcorn and watch protests and snort - why do these people always freak out about any small thing?