hanging on by a thread

So my dad was the assistant music editor on Tarzan, and idk if it was Bring Your Kid to Work Day or something but one day he did just that so there I was, this incredibly small 1st grader, in an absolutely cavernous recording studio with a full orchestra and a giant screen playing the scene they were taping the score for, and my little brain couldn't handle the big music and the big movie happening all at once so I started crying and it was the first time music ever brought me to tears and it was too much to take in so we stepped out of the studio and ran directly into Phil Collins, who looked to me very much like my dad, and in my delicate emotional state I became immediately convinced that my dad had been copied and nobody had told me so I started crying harder, and Phil Collins said something that was probably meant to be calming but it was with a British accent so I thought there was a copy of my dad in every country and I absolutely lost it at the notion that other kids would get to have my dad, and my dad ended up having to carry me back to the car.

bringing this back because it's pride month and people are saying i'm trying to "divide the community." motherfucker everyone in the queer and trans communities shit on transfems all the time and you want me to act like there isn't already a division? no one gets to pretend like everything's okay when the people who are supposed to be our allies are transmisogynists. everyone is already biased against us. do you know how sickening it is to see random people in my fucking community so easily and readily go along with any accusation against transfems, no matter how absurd or unsubstantiated? do you know how sickening it is that the people i'm supposed to lean on are the ones painting us as predators and monsters and threats for no other reason than "the vibes were off"?

that’s not the whole flag, now is it

was walking across the parking lot, almost back to my building, started experiencing a weird stinging sensation against my knee. figured hair got caught in seam or something. yanking at pants did not help. not going to take my goddamn pants off in public? must reach building first. someone comes in with me. shared elevator ride. knee still stinging. still can't strip. this is fine. i will endure. back to floor. into room. smacking leg again while turning key, fruitlessly. stinging continues. stagger inside. pants off immediately.

Got possessed in the middle of my work shift.