let me be if you must pray for me

I have run out of ways to say I am here
so just take my Alien Registration Number: 002
-381-935. I kiss a boy in the bathroom
of a courtroom, he presses me against the sink
like a child, he bends things to break
like any good American, I let every boy hold me
like a knife. I let him coat my throat.
Sometimes I wonder where
outside my body am I today? Even
science cannot prove alien life. The rules
are: All blood is borrowed. All prayers must be saved
for what can be. I pray for reincarnation
as a garden on fire. I pray for fever, the kind of
heat that knows exactly
what parts of you to kill
—  consider me another dead white war poet, kristin chang
Dear Donald Trump

Dear Donald J. Trump
I don’t like you and I never have, but now has come the time when I must forget about that. You are about to control this country for the next 4 years and that scares me. I just have a few requests.

- Please don’t let men think that they can take advantage of me because of my gender or the way I dress.
- Please don’t discredit the value of my race or the issues of people that don’t look like you.
- Please don’t let women think that they are worthless outside of their looks.
- Please don’t let my LGBTQ+ friends suffer and hide for another 4 years.
- Please don’t let fathers and mothers be scared to send their children into a world where guns are given to whomever wants them.
- Please don’t tell me that I’m different from my white friends.
- Please don’t assume that all immigrants are vile and disgusting when this country was built on the strong backs of our immigrant ancestors.
- Please don’t let me fear walking down the street.
- Please don’t push away people who have fought so hard to find refuge in our great nation.
- Please don’t tear us, as americans, away from the rest of the world.
- I beg you, do not let our promise of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness die.
- Please don’t let me hate being american.
- Please don’t make America great again. Just make it great.

Farida.
10 years old.
Future policewoman.


I hear a soft knock outside my classroom door today and there stands one of my reading intervention pupils. She wants to practice writing her name and soon we got to talking about Islam. She tells me about fasting for 30 days for Ramadan because “if you love God then you fast” from sunrise to sunset. She teaches me that Muslims cannot eat pig because he “has Satan in his body. If I eat him, I die.” She tells me she must pray five times a day and wear her hijab, or head wrap, all the time. She gazes at me, smiles, and says that she feels most beautiful when wearing her hijab. I have her put it on to show me and she was clearly correct. However, our school doesn’t let her (or any of the other Muslims who make up 39% of the school) wear them during the day because we were founded by the Church of Uganda. Sometimes the others at the schools say bad words to her for being a Muslim, even teachers she says. I tell her that whether she’s green or purple, big or small, Christian or Muslim, she can always be my friend. She giggles and asks if I will go to mosque with her one day; I happily comply but only if she lets me borrow her “smartest” hijab. We pinky promise and she continues writing her name over and over again with a joyful grin across her face.


I think I made a new friend today.

is it just me or do people seem… really angry about anyone with low spoons wanting to try and be pagan anyway?

like, “you must fear and respect your deities”, “i cry tears of joy whenever my deities present themselves to me”, “you must make frequent offerings and you must pray and you must put the gods before anything else in your life”

like i mean… idk if this is disrespectful somehow but ive already felt the gods presence in my life, and i just want to honor them to the best of my ability without stressing myself out or endangering myself (due to living with catholic parents)? ive never been comfortable with ritual or with holidays, and my parents (and budget) will absolutely not let me burn or “waste” food or wine. i have no ability to find or purchase devotional symbols or other offerings. there is so much of “real” paganism that is inaccessible to me for one reason or another, and from everything im seeing, it sounds like “true pagans” would rather i not practice at all (and thus ignore the gods) than practice “incorrectly”

i don’t want to ignore the gods that have worked with me now that im capable of devoting my time to them. but i don’t want to enter into a community that will drive me back into depression simply because im not doing things the way they do it. does anyone have any advice?

the signs when you die in dark souls

Aries: wtf he didnt even TOUCH ME THIS IS FUXKIN BS YOU NOOB

Taurus: ~plays silently throughout the whole playthrough while heart beats rapidly inside and face is reddened with anger~

Gemini: *goes straight to Dark Souls wikia*

Cancer: the developers for this game obviously didnt do something right i must write to them on twitter and tell them

Leo: *rages inside, is about to throw controller somewhere, looks at screen and breathes* that was totally my fault lets do this again

Virgo: *walks to the fridge, opens and checks it, then returns to playing*

Libra: *pushes palm/s against genitals while making kawaii faces

Scorpio: laaaaaagggggggg

Sagittarius: shut up you gronk! youre making me die!

Capricorn: *gets down and prays* if there is a god i promise you i will stop playing this stupid game if you let me die so please lend me strength to succeed… ohhh and i will also stop masturbating… *dies again* ohh… im sorry i lied…. i pray for str….

Aquarius: I DIDNT EVEN PRESS THIS BUTTON!! *releases thumb stress and presses button harder and harder and harder*

Pisces: わたはやまねは、ラマニマナチアハララミラ、ニラやラタアハワマタカハラは奈良花屋やがわ、や、わなたあ、 らやたらやに (= ̄ ρ ̄=) ..zzZZ

7

I am apart of the 2%. I wasn’t supposed to graduate college let alone before 30 if I did. I wasn’t supposed to graduate high school. I was supposed to fall victim of being a mother at 16 and never reach the height that I have today. I still as a teenage mother accomplished my goals, finished High School, Finished College, Join the Org of My Dreams (Eeee-Yip!) and become what others had prayed upon me to be. My parents pushed me, my friends helped me (and baby sat LOL) I asked for help, I let go of pride and I understood it wasn’t just about me. It’s tough but without realizing I took it one day at a time and I looked up and realized I was at the milestone many did not see for me. if you know a teenage mother encourage her, help her, be her advocate and if you must tell her my story. Tell her I am not finished! Tell her at 22 I Have completed my Bachelors program, Tell her I am beginning my Masters Program, then finally my Doctorate. I am a proud statistic. Because not only am I teenage mother, but I am the 2%.

there’s this boy who likes me and i was like “oh he is pretty cool i will go on a date with him” but then on this date (the first date) he was all “i love you it was love at first sight i must hold onto you forever” which is terrifying and i am terrified but he is a good friend and a nice guy and yeah i am about to give him the “let’s just be friends” speech so pray for me lol

Love Letter - written 03:13 am 10th Oct. and left beside Sherlock’s microscope

Sherlock,

You lay here beside me, sleeping soundly, and I look at you and am overwhelmed with affection, with an aching need to pull you close, to keep you safe.  I’ve failed you on that last point in so many ways, and I don’t intend to ever again.  

You sleep so well these days.  It makes me happy.  You’ve never been much a sleeper, but if I go to bed, then you come with me, and you always fall asleep after just a little while, curled on your side, clasped hands tucked under your chin like you’re praying.  I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

I hope you know that there is nothing and no one in the world more important to me than you.  You have been so patient, and gentle, and understanding with me.  You must let me do the same, Sherlock.  You must let me love and spoil you a little.

You are very good at loving me, but I’m not so sure about you letting other’s love you in return.  Maybe I would like to bring you breakfast in bed without you turning your nose up at the very idea.  Maybe I would love to run you a bath, to wash your hair, and wash you.  Maybe I want to anticipate your needs and desires, and always fulfil them without you needing to ask.  I’m not sure how successful I’ve been.

I thought the impromptu holiday in Sussex might be nice, and I know that you said that you loved everything we did and shared there, but in some ways I felt that you endured much of it for my sake, that it wasn’t entirely your cup of tea.  You should tell me what you would like instead, in the way of a holiday.  We should do what you like next time.  

Perhaps I will have to ask Lestrade to find me a lovely locked-room murder for you to investigate.  You would love that, wouldn’t you?!  It’s been ages since you had one of those.

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