#I dunno maybe this is pretentious and self-righteous

[queerunpleasantdanger]

Living is resistance, but it is not enough. Conditions can worse. Do not become quiet.

You do not need to riot. You don't need to take the highway. You don't need to light anything on fire. I'm not telling you not to do those things - I don't feel safe advocating them publicly, but I cannot be made to pretend to oppose such things publicly, I'm telling you that it is not itself the prerequisite to the collective survival of our democracy or minority rights or the prevention of the atrophy of our political consciousness. You may do such things - I cannot stop you! - but they are risks that I am not asking you to take today.

But you do have to protest, to strike, to organize. Drop banners, take over your local party, feed the hungry, speak about injustice, buy food for the people feeding the hungry, be the call for your friend at a protest, provide legal aid both to protestors and to all the other imprisoned, take over a park, hold a teach-in, or a die-in (real power here for pro choice protestors), or a sit-in, make a cacophony of action, collectively try a million things to see what works right now in this moment.

In times such as these, it is more pressing than in better times, specifically because it is quite possible it will become dangerous, because resistance, and a refusal to go quietly, makes the authoritarian's job harder.

Poland reminds us that clawing things back is possible. Do not let your political awareness atrophy - that is where catastrophe lives. As long as we are fighting, we will live. Silence, the slogan goes, is death.

[roanfusions]

"Faolan, come on," Princey says. Faolan is so close to the door to the living room. Somewhere public. So he doesn't turn around and-

Faolan turns to Princey. He's three feet from the door and he already knows he's not going to make it. "Come on?" Faolan asks, voice high, " come on??"

"You're making this sound like I didn't save you from dying because you decided it was a bright idea to fuck woth creatures you knew nothing about! You almost fucking died! Again!" Faolan's voice raises with every word. "Don't come on, me, jackass, fuck you!"

"It wasn't-"

"If you finish that sentence, with that bad, I will eviscerate you." Faolan snaps. "Wasnt that bad? Wasnt that bad? Maybe to you it wasnt that fucking bad, but to I dunno, any sane person that cares enough about your well being ITS PRETTY FUCKING BAD!"

"Hey-"

"sHUT UP, FUCK YOU. I THOUGHT THIS GOD DAMN SHIP WOULD SAVE ME FROM THE HELL YOU CREATE AND I WAS FUCKING WRONG." Faolan blinks back tears, glaring at Princey with such anger it was palpable. "FUCK YOU, ALMOST DYING EVERYTIME YOU DO SOMETHING BECAUSE YOU CANT BE BOTHERED TO THINK BEFORE YOU ACT AND RUNNING HEAD FIRST INTO EVERY STUPID SITUATION YOU CAN LAND YOURSELF IN-"

Faolan was really ranting now. "-BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON YOU CANT IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING SKULL THAT DOING SHIT WITHOUT A PLAN WILL GET THE PEOPLE YOUR PRETENTIOUS ASS IS TRYING TO SAVE HURT. YOU NEVER THINK, YOU NEVER CARE IF YOUR BULLSHITS GONNA HURT SOMEONE ELSE. I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT, PRINCEY!"

Faolan runs a hand through his hair. "DO YOU EVEN CARE? DO YOU? IM REALLY FUCKING ASKING BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT? THE THIRD TIME NOW THAT YOUVE PROMISED ME YOULL STOP? HOW MANY TIMES, PRINCEY, BEFORE I FIND YOUR CORPSE INSTEAD OF A BARELY BREATHING BODY? HOW MANY TIMES BEFORE I FEEL FOR A PULS AND ITS NOT FUCKING THERE? I CANT. I CANT DO IT AGAIN AND I FUCKING WONT. IF YOU WONT FIX YOUR BULLSHIT, IM SURE AS HELL NOT STAYING TO SUFFER THROUGH IT. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU AND YOUR SELF RIGHTEOUS, MESSIAH COMPLEX. ROT IN HELL YOU FUCKING BASTARD."

Faolan pauses. "You know what?" He says, quieter but still loud. "You know what?" He says, tone broken, tears in his eyes. "Fuck this. I'm not doing it again. I don't care. I don't. This just proved that you haven't tried to help yourself, and I can't. I can't do it Princey. I can't spend every moment of my time with you wondering whens the next time youre going to run headfirst into a situation you know nothing about. I can't spend every moment of my time with you wondering if you're going to die in my arms because I wasn't fast enough, or smart enough, or I messed up, or- or-"

"That won't happen-"

"Yeah, Princey. It won't. Because I'm fucking done. Whatever soulmate bullshittery we have may exist for as long as it wants but as long as you continue to prove over and over again that you won't help yourself, that you won't care, then I won't be a part of it. I'm done. It's over."

Princey's eyes widen to saucers and for once, he doesn't speak. Faolan is glad the anger in his eyes outshines the tears. Wordlessly Princey walks away.

Faolan storms into the living room, heading to the kitchen he grabs a glass of water, hands shaky as he pours. He makes it a quarter of the way up before he takes a sip, ans immediately bursts into tears. A hand covers his mouth, and he flees the room.

In the end, he wouldnt make it to his room. Curling up on the floor against a wall to cry.

[weedle-testaburger]

dominic cummings: ‘why don’t people like me?’ me: gee i dunno, maybe because you’re a pretentious self-righteous little wanker who stole an election campaign and ruined this country