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Anti-capitalist, queer & asexual crybaby living on unceded and unsurrendered Algonquin Territory.

Big fan of Janelle Monáe and Rae Spoon

click here 4 more info about ME

less of a killjoy @ dreamhag.tumblr.com

panicacidide:

Apparently it’s not socially acceptable for a man to invite another man out just for coffee or to go out for a meal, in case it’s perceived as a date. Like it’s fine if you wanna go to the pub and drink beer and have a chat but make it non-alcoholic and suddenly you’re not straight anymore? You can go to the cinema together but ONLY if it’s an action movie. You guys can’t even just go shopping with each other. Oh masculinity, so fragile, so strange. 

javeliner:

i should have been a pair of ragged claws getting fat stacks in silent seas

javeliner:

i should have been a pair of ragged claws getting fat stacks in silent seas

Some of my ways of connecting with my Bangali parents on the queer stuff

anuraglahiri:

Maybe my ways are passive, passive-aggressive, sly, avoidant… or just culturally sensitive. Regardless, this is what works for me these days.

  1. I made a safe zone sign for my multilingual immigrant work place and asked my dad for help proofreading the translations. He asked his friends too!
  2. I helped organize the March on Springfield and did outreach at my dad’s University. He took me from building to building with my posters, bragging to people that he helped with the Bangla translation.
  3. That time, after clearly paying attention to my lingo on facebook posts, my mum asked me why people say “queer” because she thought it was a mean word.
  4. I talked to my mum about how some people here in the U.S. prefer they (gender neutral) pronouns, sort of like in Bangla. And then happily listened to her tell me more about Bangla grammar and language.
  5. I heard about Akabaka Productions and then took the opportunity to ask my dad about the meaning of the word akabaka. He wasn’t convinced that it meant gay, lol, but still, I’m wishing I would have come out as baka (not straight) rather than that series of confused English words.
  6. I told my mum about how I know our attorney through her desi lesbian partner who she will marry soon. And they thought she was a damn good attorney too.
  7. I told my mum not to worry, I can help my brother set up a shaadi.com account since I just set up my own. She, confused, asked what I was looking for on there. I said “a wife.” She said, sensitively, “I’m not sure you will find what you are looking for on there…”
  8. I told my mum about my desi lesbian friend’s Hindu wedding and how her mother officiated it with blessings from her own father. My parents later went to a wedding in their town, which was coincidentally officiated by my friend’s mum and they got to meet her.

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somehow it is only today that I realized that I LOVE womens sports movies. Whip It, Bend it like beckham, she’s the man, a league of their own, love and basketball,… it’s endless.

slavocracy:

sorry white people but if you dont support mike brown & the people of fergusons’ protests in 2014 you probably wouldnt have supported abolition in the 1800s or civil rights movements in the 1960s & having the ability to recognize something as morally justified in hindsight something that has already been accepted by the mainstream as morally justified is nice for u but on all practical levels useless to everyone else 

"People need to be encouraged. People need to be reminded of how wonderful they are. People need to be believed in—told that they are brave and smart and capable of accomplishing all the dreams they dream and more. Remind each other of this."
— Stacey Jean Speer (via ding-ang-bato)

richwhitelesbian:

yea i have a real girlfriend. her names… mysterious. mysterious blood pyramid. she goes to a different school

commiekinkshamer:

"man the previous generation really fucked us over" like… are your parents CEOs or high level bankers or part of the ruling class? then that statement might make sense

kagezukami:

share a coke with the indescribable, omnipresent feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach