#marsh.speaks

stomach ache/nausea

sweatiness

racing heartbeat

irrational thinking

trouble sleeping

etc

I want two aro people to talk to each other. To get to talk about it with someone else who gets it. Aro people irl know - getting to talk to other aros about it is just different sometimes.

I want two trans people to talk to each other onscreen. I want them to differ, to be visibly different, to be able to disagree. Isn't that so much more interesting?

I want more than one black character in a "main cast" lineup. Let them have black friendships, black families, black neighbors. Let them come from different backgrounds, from the same backgrounds.

I want more than one asian person — holy shit, groundbreaking idea — let there be both a Korean person and a Chinese person. Let there be three Vietnamese girls and four Japanese men and five Pakistani characters because life is just random and diverse like that.

Characters from countries people don't hear about as often—give me a character from Cape Verde, from Kyrgyzstan, from Guyana.

And fuck "giving each character one thing to make them part of the diverse cast". I want a pansexual Ghanian with a disability. I want her to get to talk to another Ghanian who is also queer, but also different. I want her to have disabled friends.

I want a transman to be a single father in the tv show.

I want an indigenous woman with chronic pain in the book.

I want a mixed nonbinary jewish character to be undocumented in the movie.

I want to see my friendships reflected, my futures portrayed, my struggles, my intersectionalities represented.

I want there to be enough diversity that the very real diversity within those communities is highlighted, from different experiences, to differing opinions.

Stop checking boxes. Stop saying, oh, there's a black best friend in the cast, we've checked off our "race" representation, we don't need anymore. There can and should always be more.

So yeah.

Sometimes I get emotional about visible mending, about mending in general.

you can tell it’s lived a good life.

you can see that that pair of shoes, that sweater, that stuffed animal, was loved enough for it to turn threadbare, to rip and pill over.

It was loved enough that someone out there saw it through its darkest times, just to experience it for longer. It was so loved someone held its hands as it literally came apart at the seams.

and they looked at its broken and battered and war torn body and said, “I will still love you. Even now, as you lay there, fading. I love you enough to bring you back to life”

and you can see it, just there, in the flowers blossoming from your elbows, in the patterns swirling at your knees.

-> a platypus?

p̂latypus