“I knew if they ever found out about me, I’d end up like Johnny Yablonsky. Johnny was soft, he was feminine, he was clearly gay. The neighborhood guys would make him blow them; then beat the shit out of him. He always had a lot of bruises, and absenteeism. He was so defeated. I’ve always assumed he killed himself. And I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me. It was a lot of fear, and shame. The fucking shame. I participated in my own self-negation. I laughed at all the jokes. I tried to tighten up on the masculine stuff. I’d stand in […]
dream: drag shows and the Chicago dollhouse on the horizon. I wanna eat lobster drink beer and gut laugh with my friends and say to hell with the evil in this world working to stop the beautiful things in life. I am who I am. I need to embrace and conquer.
^ I don’t understand this woman. But that’s okay I get the Americano flies too I guess. I’ve been posting characters I found in tiles to poke fun at it but I […]
my beater car’s my best friend. i can’t get over the 2000s cd changer in the trunk. quirky as hell.
i love that it has a tape player. when i was a kid, my mom had a box of cassettes and cds we’d listen to on vacation. takes me back. i can’t wait to use it. fleetwood mac ftw if i can find one.
my first week at work was me keeping to myself and feeling disconnected, lifeless and without purpose. i didn’t talk to anyone, which is horrible to do if you feel uncomfortable in a new situation.
my second week, I start opening up with coworkers. […]
Enormous slabs of meat hang like rags on large shiny hooks. The pink colored flesh is blinding with fluorescence compared to the sterile steel behind it. Human-sized lungs swinging around in the icy meat locker. They belong to the machine.
At this point, walking in, it seems like a boring life. No purpose! But you have to start somewhere. I clock in, put on my bump helmet, stab myself with a hook and join the rest.