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@daughterof-thedust-blog

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alahea

men are so dumb sometimes you just want to laugh at them but you can’t because they’ll probably kill you or some shit

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nuclears

Rianne Van Rompaey photographed by Harley Weir for LOVE Magazine Spring / Summer 2018

Stylist: Katie Grand Hair: Syd Hayes Makeup: Lauren Parsons 

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“Suddenly I wonder, ‘Where is the girl that I was last year? Two years ago? What would she think of me now?”

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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confirmance

I went to the farmer’s market yesterday and at the honey guy’s booth and there were all these bees just hangin out.  Checking out the beeswax tabs, floating around the honey jars, not being aggressive, just really gentle and investigating or something

and as he was giving me a sample of the wildflower honey one of them landed on his hand and he just took a drop from the jar and dabbed it on his hand for the bee, and when I asked if they were his bees he said “No, but they show up every time I come out, I think they just know my truck” and this guy is well-known among the local bees and lets them sit on his hand and eat his honey and I just really like the bee guy

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fieldbears

What more of an endorsement could you hope for

you met a fucking forest nymph

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gold-afternoon

What is gay pride? By definition “a sense of dignity and satisfaction in connection with the public acknowledgment of one’s own homosexuality”

Pride is so much more than a celebration of who you are. Or as some non LGBTQ people say “an excuse to flaunt their sexuality”

It’s a positive stance against discrimination and violence towards LGBTQ people.

Very few establishments welcomed openly gay people in the 1950s and 1960s. The ones that did were owned by the Mob. Police raids on gay bars were routine in the 60s.

It was illegal to be gay and wear clothes that weren’t typically of your gender. “Standard procedure was to line up the patrons, check their identification, and have female police officers take customers dressed as women to the bathroom to verify their sex, upon which any men dressed as women would be arrested.”

On June 28, 1969, at Stonewall Inn, bar patrons clashed with police officers, in a raid that would have otherwise resulted in arrests and public shaming. The patrons fought back, setting off what we now know as the modern LGBT movement.. it’s often forgotten that transgender women of colour made the biggest impact in this.

June 28, 1970 Marked the first anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, Christopher Street Liberation day took place… the first Gay pride march in U.S history.

So pride began as a riot.

Calgarys first march took place in 1990. “The first event was marked by marchers wearing paper bags over their heads, both out of fear of being identified and as a protest against the stigma that keeps LGBT people in the Closet”

It was officially recognized by the city in 1991. That’s not very long ago.

People go on about the “Gay Agenda” as if there is one. LGBTQ people have only ever wanted to be treated as equals.

Or where there “Straight Pride” is. Guess what? The world is your straight pride. How many of you have felt fear for something as simple as holding hands with someone you love? Or sharing a quick hello or goodbye kiss? If your answer is no, then you must be straight. Something this simple still strikes fear because of how others may react.

It’s illegal to be gay in 72 countries and 8 are punishable by death.

We have pride to show ourselves as a community, show closeted people or those struggling with themselves that hey it’s okay, there are people just like you.

Together we stand to fight bigotry, discrimination and intolerance. The more we are seen, the more we put ourselves out there, the better it is.

We are here, we’ve always been here. We’ve been shamed for who we are, but what is the opposite of shame? Pride 🏳️‍🌈

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unspokengrief
God, were you watching? Watching him put his evil inside of me? Fingers of death ran up my thigh, I closed my eyes and prayed for my life. Now when I close my eyes, all I see is his dirty face. Do you know what he did? Do you know how I ache? The space between my thighs no longer feels safe. I close my eyes and I see his face, the face of a man who made sure I knew the feeling of rape. God, am I grieving too loud? Did your hear me scream? Did you hear me shout? I was crying for help, moments before he covered my mouth. God, will you forgive me for taking my life? Cause I don’t forgive you for standing by, watching him force this evil inside. God, are you listening now? The nurses that night, held me in their arms while I cried, my mother did the same when I was 5. They were the real heros that night. My parents sat in the waiting room for hours, while I cried, trying to get the confidence to wash the dirtiness between my thighs. God, do you even care? I’m removing dirt and branches from my hair, my mothers trying to be strong so I wipe her tears. This pain, it isn’t right, every girl I know has a story like mine, most of them now, carry a knife. God, do you know what it’s like? For a man to force his way between your thighs? For a man to hold you down, to pray for death instead of carrying on your life? God, do you understand the words I am saying now? I’ve been to hell and I’m calling you out, you won’t save the woman who cried out loud or even the woman who made no sound.

— (questions god won’t answer)

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unspokengrief
God, were you watching? Watching him put his evil inside of me? Fingers of death ran up my thigh, I closed my eyes and prayed for my life. Now when I close my eyes, all I see is his dirty face. Do you know what he did? Do you know how I ache? The space between my thighs no longer feels safe. I close my eyes and I see his face, the face of a man who made sure I knew the feeling of rape. God, am I grieving too loud? Did your hear me scream? Did you hear me shout? I was crying for help, moments before he covered my mouth. God, will you forgive me for taking my life? Cause I don’t forgive you for standing by, watching him force this evil inside. God, are you listening now? The nurses that night, held me in their arms while I cried, my mother did the same when I was 5. They were the real heros that night. My parents sat in the waiting room for hours, while I cried, trying to get the confidence to wash the dirtiness between my thighs. God, do you even care? I’m removing dirt and branches from my hair, my mothers trying to be strong so I wipe her tears. This pain, it isn’t right, every girl I know has a story like mine, most of them now, carry a knife. God, do you know what it’s like? For a man to force his way between your thighs? For a man to hold you down, to pray for death instead of carrying on your life? God, do you understand the words I am saying now? I’ve been to hell and I’m calling you out, you won’t save the woman who cried out loud or even the woman who made no sound.

— (questions god won’t answer)