Executive Queer.

I don’t think I’ve ever been loved like this before, not in my entire life. She grabs my hand even when I’m trying to look away.

I’m writing a queer fairytale about a person who loses their birth name and assigned gender to a sphinx. It’s the first time I’ve written fiction in years. It feels so, so good.

If it has majority white people in it, I’m not interested. In the mighty words of Nayvadius DeMun Wilburn: “I’m good love, enjoy.”

It’s literally never going to end. My father will never stop being the absolutely terrible, neglectful parent that he is and I will never stop having to pick up his slack. I just want to be done.

It’s all fun and games until you’re actually dating someone long distance.

The emotion store is closed. Fresh out of feelings. Come again next week.

I’m so sick of filling up my every second with some kind of task or entertainment, but every time I stop long enough to be alone with my thoughts my brain is like “umm, so we’re still alive because?” and debating with myself on that specific topic isn’t all that fun so back to scrolling twitter I go.