Results for: dead to me
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It’s More Fun When We’re Co-Conspirators
“Her hair is like another person. Today it’s two braids.”
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I Am Jack’s Preoccupation With Mortality
“You’re marching gallantly to your grave Laneia. We all are. We’re all spinning spinning spinning just grazing fingertips on things in hopes we’ll leave a mark. Anyway you should stop opening your mouth so wide when you brush your teeth. Keep those wrinkles down.”
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A Prairie Homo Companion: To Be More Like A Dog
Your dog doesn’t care that you’re an anti-social drunk bookworm.
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A Prairie Homo Companion: Prairie Homo Brain Freeze
Sometimes a prairie homo has nothing to write, so she writes about it.
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Butch Please: A Letter to Baby Butches
I have every faith in you, baby butch. I know you will be careful with this word and its legacy. It looks like a badge but it feels like a battleaxe, and I need you to know that it’s five times as difficult to earn and ten million times more dangerous.
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I Had Facial Feminization Surgery
“I paid a dude to knock me unconscious, peel back my face, and cut out chunks of my skull and jaw.”
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Dust to Dark: The Colors of My Craziness
“It’s on my twenty-fourth birthday that I realize something is wrong. I wake up crying and I don’t stop.”
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Unwritten On The Body
As with the meaning of written text, our bodies float somewhere between the author (ourselves) and the reader (those we encounter).
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Disowned: When Coming Out Doesn’t Go As Planned
“The truth is that it does bother me that my parents are pretending that I’m dead—probably more than I’ve been willing to admit.”
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Prairie Homo Companion: Conversations On Coming Home
“Me too,” I could so easily say to the teenagers on that Edmonton LRT train: “Me too.” I had also wanted to leave, and I did; but then I came home.
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It’s Your Gun Culture: The Autostraddle Roundtable
On growing up with (or without) guns.
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Butch Please: Butch Buys A Drink
“If I wear my heart on my sleeve – and I do these days, much to the shock and dismay of a butch gone prematurely tender – then the sleeve itself is my masculinity.”
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The Secret Diary of a Turkey-Fister
“As it turned out, stuffing turkeys on the graveyard shift was a bonding experience that could not be transcended.”
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On Making Rape Jokes
“Since the nuances of personal responsibility seem to escape so many people, let’s go through it. Let’s figure out rape jokes.”
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Estranged: How I Fell In Love With A Girl And Lost My Family
“When they see you happy, they’ll accept it,” someone told me once. When there are tears about something unchangeable, people can only be optimistic. It’s the only thing that is left.
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Carmen’s Concert Diary: Drake In DC
I have a lot of feelings about Drake. And now that I’ve seen him live, I have about a million more.
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Going Mad in New York City
“I feel like yelling at people,” she told me. I didn’t really grasp then that she meant that. This was the very first time. This was the day after Easter.
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Listling Without Commentary: Rejected Liveblog Topics From My Personal Life
“A conversation I had in line at the post office about sex toys, which were in the opened-by-customs package I was picking up, and the reaction of the nice lady who handed it/them to me.”
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Listicle Without Commentary: Puzzling References to Homosexuality From Journals Found in My Room While Packing to Move to San Francisco
“I was watching The L Word first season and thinking about how my heart is dead.”