me telling my dad about Goncharov: So yeah the meme kinda peaked around when Martin Scorsese found out about it when his daughter posted that Tik Tok. :)
My dear father: ooh cool. wanna watch it for movie night tonight?
So tonight when i was saying night to my dad, i said “don’t let the bedbugs bite” and he said “if i see any I’ll grab em and toss em into the toilet in another dimension. The dimension of that little suicidal flower boy with a girl’s name” so I said “…who?”, he just repeated “the suicidal flower boy with a girl’s name, the one who lives in the girls bathroom, the probably trans one”. So, logically, I was like “are you talking about Hanako???” And my dad clapped his hands and pointed at me saying “Yes! That one! The little suicidal trans flower boy with a girl’s name!”
why the fuck is it so important to people that I wear a fucking dress? I hate it so much. I look at myself in the mirror and I feel like someone else is looking back. someone people could love more. someone more normal. someone my mom could show to her friends. someone more palatable. someone else.
the sequins feel like forks stabbing me everywhere. I’m done. it doesn’t even fit the fucking carnival theme of the homecoming dance. my caretaker thinks I look nice. she says so. I look and feel wrong. maybe I could be a clown.
I want to rip it off, along with my skin at this point. I imagine showing up to school where everyone calls me Avi. where everyone I know sees me as a boy. or something close to that anyway. they see me as me. I’d get misgendered for the rest of the fucking year. I can’t leave this hell. I’m stuck with my mom for the foreseeable future.
In the hospital's crowded hallway,
I stand alone,
Cold steel clatters,
Overlapping with somber screams,
Drenched in antiseptic—the reaper's lullaby.
The worst of it, however, is when
I see a father
Gazing upon his son—watches his own blood evaporate,
Leaving naught behind,
But the crumbs of a white dwarf.
Oh, the father
He used to be concrete and rocks,
A pillar of haven,
The core of a warm hearth.
But his iron heart,
Now starts to fracture,
Like a sandcastle
Facing the wrath of a storm.
He, who once blazed so bright,
Shielding us from the cold,
Now withers, grows pale,
His flame, once bold, now a blue ember.
As I gaze upon him,
I ponder the weight he bears;
In his shoes,
What fate awaits I—
A house of cards,
Should I, too, bear
Even a fraction of his woes.
yes, i've changed the way my stanza structures thank you for noticing (andd i've finally used uppercase at the start of the sentence)
This is kind of an old anecdote by this point, but it feels Tumblr-worthy. So after my sister and I saw Taylor Swift this past May, we were telling our dad about it and something to this effect happened.
Sis: I honestly wish she hadn't done "Cruel Summer" so early on, I barely remember it because I was just freaking out so much. But it was so good!!
Dad: Does... does she cover a Bananarama song? That's surprising
If you're in Canada, this is an excellent shop with fiber, yarn, weaving supplies and a bunch of other stuff. They weave and dye on site so there's a lot of one of a kind items. The owners are amazing (as you can see!)
Shout out to my dad for actually being the coolest and most interesting guy to talk to ever. There’s no joke or anything here my dad is just super cool and I had a great conversation about film with him and I think yall need to hear it.