take my fucking hand and never be afraid again

good morning to the beaten and the damned only

You don't like New Yawk? 🗽? Bada Bing?

no 🛩️

anotha one🛩️

throw your hair in a messy bun, drink some blood, put on some nine inch nails and jerk off face down

This will sound like a joke but I’m serious. My first introduction to postmodern queer theory was stumbling on a televised talent show as a pre-teen and watching this woman smash soda cans with her breasts. When the judges asked her a predictable question, if I recall correctly, she answered: “they’re fake but they’re real.” I knew what she meant. She’d had implants, sure, but she wasn’t just wearing a prop she could put on or take off. She wasn’t trying for verisimilitude—her breasts were real simply because they were hers. Ever since I’ve been fascinated by the possibility of something being real and fake at the same time, and the truth that these aren’t static or mutually exclusive categories. I think of all the people who have doubted the authenticity of my faggy mannerisms, accusing me of putting on an act instead of being myself. I feel so much pressure to say that this is just who I naturally am, but this is only half the truth. I do like being feminine, I do like being over the top, I do like being tacky in the most delightful ways, and sometimes I emphasize these parts of me just because I can. We can choose who we want to be and still be real. Anyway as I typed this I looked up the video and found that during that woman’s performance Dynamite by Taio Cruz was playing so good for her.