not again where the—great. well this is just FANTASTIC. he’s not sure where he is, where he’s going, or what exactly he’s looking for—wait no, that’s not completely true. accompanied by a rush of panic, he’s reminded why he’s been staggering down these disturbingly bare streets, muttering ( and occasionally yelling ) to nothing and no one in particular. 

     but his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of something—someone behind him.  he spins around, stumbling toward the stranger with a breathless,  ‘ hey ! hey, do you—do you know where we are ? sorry, have–have you seen a girl ? she has long blonde hair and she’s—she’s nine. his gaze drifts down and his brows knit together as if he’s just remembered something else. ‘ —wait, what realm is this ? damn, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a HAT would you ?


I’ve been going to the Pride Parade for a few years now, and this woman has always been there, come heat or rain, with her sign and exuberance. I did a little bit of checking - her name is Frances Goldin, and she’s been doing this every year for at least 22 years, with the same exact sign (the only thing that’s changed is the little green smiley) and her smile. I do not know why the woman next to her is crying, but I can guess.

This has been a week of horrible news from Germany and it’s a tragedy following tragedy. But what is worse is that you can FEEL the right wing beast rear its head and gain strength. I am not scared of these attacks, I am scared of the grey masses that will be swayed by hate speech and panic on media outlets to vote against civil rights and compassion and towards a nationalist way of life.