Torn Apart By Dogs

Breathing. My answer is breathing. Even if I fuck up the rest, breathing usually works out for me.

Not at all. In almost every space I’m the wrong kind of queer and trans. Disabled, homeless, not passing in any way, and old. Fuck this state and fuck these privileged, exclusionary ablest, and classist assimilationists. Community? Doesn’t fucking exist.

It’s a tie between him repeatedly raping my sister in our shared room while I was present and when he shot my viszla in front of me. Good times, dad. Happy father’s day.