I just wanna religiously cover my hair and not make it look like Iâm appropriating any cultures

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I just wanna religiously cover my hair and not make it look like Iâm appropriating any cultures

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@ every catholic complaining about blasphemy or w/e concerning the met gala theme tonight: i was raised catholic, wrestled w my faith for like ten years, and am finally settled in it, and Her Holiness Pope Rihanna I and His Eminence Chadwick Card. Boseman have been more benevolent to my trans catholic ass than any moldy ass parked on the throne in vatican city ever has
Cosplaying my 80's journalist oc Madeleine, who exists because i watched wayyy too many american police tv shows. Now i just have to do this everyday until i die.
I ditched my family for two hours to go to church and nobody even noticed. I was invited to lunch by old ppl and I said no bc I though my family would be like o where is our boy. I should have gone
true crime channels and family channels rile me up you have no idea

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deciding to homeschool me was the worst fucking decision my parents could have ever made lmfao
       ANSWERED ASK ---> @vxperbxttenâ | HEADCANONÂ
HEADCANON + A WORD / PHRASE - childhood
   childhood is fun; ball games in empty lots riddled with patches of long dead grass, and scraps of metal. it is struggle; food rations, and bread lines---nights of Maâs silent sobs from the opposite room. itâs faith: sundayâs spend in the home of the lord, his only good pair of slacks shrinking every summers past. it is wonder; talks of who they will be in years to come, work forces to join, the gals they will marry.Â
   childhood is---foggy. glimpses of places, faceless laughs, and hazy pictures like a television with too much static.Â
   childhood is STEVE, and the numberless fights; bruised knuckles, and broken noses. itâs popping hydrants in summer, and huddling in the living room come winter.Â
   childhood is...
   forgotten over time; memories, and identity scrambled with ANOTHER.Â
   itâs when he finds himself in the tundra of Russiaâs winters he remembers once; knee deep in snow and ice. a laugh from over the hill---Steve, and their friends. a snowball to the back of his head, a piece of tin used as a sled.Â
   and in the same breath
   his memory, his childhood, is gone.Â