An Archivist Found A Long Forgotten 8mm Film Reel In An Old Metal Box, Marked “Philippines 1942”.

remember those who could not make it to today. honor their memory. live for them.

this year, more than ever. remember those who have perished. live for them. live for yourself. existence is resistance

Pride is not pride without including disabled queer people. 🌈

I'M LITERALLY EXPLODING Y'ALL LOOK AT THIS ANIMATION PLEASE!!!!

(Not mine but I adore this so much)

Do your patriotic duty. Salute the flag.

Diary Entry #20

I got a binder and two packers!!! Too bad I can't wear them basically anywhere lmao but still. I cleaned my room with my binder on. I was so worried it wasn't making me flat enough, i mean it doesn't matter now but when I go on T it might.

I made sure to order the right size but after like an hour of wearing it I still kinda hurt. But I'm okay now (it's my second time wearing it, first time wearing it for any significant amount of time.)

I went down a very brief spiral (brief being like 15 minutes tops) where I was like "OH MY GOD WHAT IF I'M NOT TRANS." But looking back, I think it's because my binder didn't make me like 100% flat, more like I have pecs or maybe gynomastia and I'm pretty sure now that's what it was.

But seeing me in pictures with my binder (with my face/hair mostly cropped out) on made me super happy, it's just that looking at me irl still makes me think I look very fem because I still have these fem characteristics and it makes me feel kinda bad. My spiral was not very rational.

I think the thought "what if my binder doesn't actually bind enough?? What if I still look like I have a large chest??" isn't actually very cis, looking back on it. I'm gonna post some pictures of me in a shirt with and without the binder and let y'all be the judge. I think I'm just freaking out over nothing, but I can't stop thinking like that. Under the cut btw, first pic with binder second pic w/o.

Diary entry #26

TW- ed (my blog is not going to become an ed blog so like if you’re triggered by that sort of stuff I will not talk about it a lot and I will label it every time), family stuff, sui

It feels like I’m in an endless cycle of suffering in a lot of different ways, just stacking on top of each other and melting together. I’m back on my ed bullshit unfortunately, triggered by me stopping my depression/sleep meds that made me binge all the time for like 5 fucking years among other things. I’m always stopped before I can hurt myself too terribly, but I don’t want to be stopped this time. 

My grandma always thinks I’m starving myself for attention or whatever, but it’s like a drive in me or something. I always need to destroy myself somehow, and this is one way I can do so. I think she thinks I’m an attention whore, which in some ways I might be, but starving myself for attention would be even more miserable than me doing it to lose weight/hurt myself. I hate having an ed so much. It gives me a bit of control over my life, but I am so cold and so tired all the time. I think my grandparents do not think of me highly at all, and I’m hurt by that quite a lot. 

At this point, if my grandparents try to stop me, maybe I’ll tell them the truth. I have no control over my life, I’m just a hamster on a wheel. I want my body to be androgynous, because that’s the best I can get right now without control over what I’m wearing and my haircut, and also lack of T. I could technically wear what I want, but last time I tried that my grandma called me the D slur. I know trying to look more like how I want is a fool’s errand, and I mostly just want to destroy myself. 

Sometimes I really think that I should die. That everyone would be better off without me. But there’s a couple major things that are affecting that thought. I have stopped caring if people hate me as much; if they hate me, I can’t control it. In fact, their spite kind of keeps me alive. If I die looking like a girl… I don’t even know. I want to die as a man. And also, I’m probably too much of a pussy to actually kms. 

Sorry I bitch a lot on here, I have no one to talk to.

celebrating my 5 year top surgery anniversary today, so I wanted to draw something that reflects the bliss of feeling your chest for the first time. happy pride 🏳️‍⚧️⚧️💙🩷🤍

Rule