#damian rambles

And then I got unreasonably sad that he died in like 10 minutes and we learned nothing about him, not even what his face looked like. So like, please excuse the Regris spam because I just scrolled the entire tag. Poor alien boy could’ve been such a cool character, and a friend for Keith at the BOM. 

They went digging for gold,

Their hands in the dirt like us,

Stained clothes like ours

Sweat rolling off their bodies, dripping into the same soil mine did once.

They found a tomb, a place we had laid them to rest

And while it was fresh for us,

For them it had been 2,700 years

The items we placed for their afterlife

Were now artifacts for a museum

I wrapped an urn in cloth, linen I had woven with my own hands

And they found it the same way I left it

My daughter’s daughters, were you weavers as I was?

My sons sons, did you till the earth as we did?

My line died out, my children’s children’s children lost to war and famine and travel and exploration and yet;

My weave lives on. The fibers of my life may never been known but the product of my sweat, my work, my hands

Exists still. Even if I do not.

I don’t really speak on my personal life much, but I work as a barista for the siren, and I live with roommates about a 30min commute from my job. My hours were recently cut, and I find myself short on my portion of this months rent.

I am not sure what I could offer to make this an equal exchange but if anyone is open to donating anything to help me out, that would be extremely helpful. Please do not feel obligated to donate, I know that this is a very rough time for all of us indeed, so I shall just provide my cashapp, Venmo and PayPal below. All of these are in fact me, I just have a name attached to one of them that I no longer go by.

Again, anything you can do to help out a poor transmasc barista is greatly appreciated and I hope you have a wonderful day even if all you can do is reblog or share this.

PayPal: @/jamieethom

Venmo: @/jamieprincess