Mar. 10th, 2009

myblackeyedfire: (Freddy Mercury faun)
This slow bad day was exacerbated by getting on a bus to head home and finding myself sitting in the middle of a conversation between four guys. One complained about how he had to read about 'transgenders and freaky shit' in one of his classes, and others chimed in about how their classes were so gay, and their classmates were so gay, and that if one of them asked to meet up to do extra credit work together, he'd meet him carrying a shotgun. The last comment was met with chuckling approval.

Fuck them. Fuck them with a ripe jackfruit. I hope one day and one day soon I'll be able to raise my head and speak up, voice cold and clipped, and let them know that sort of fucked up posturing isn't just offensive in public, and it doesn't just come off as mere words, and that they're wrong to be presumptuous enough to think that they're hot shit queer magnets, because, oh, honey, that's just unlikely.

It wasn't a street at night, or an empty lot. I had safety in being on a public bus and, more to the point, probably sitting next to immature guys who were more prone to bluffing and braggadocio than anything else, where I was ignored. As it was, I raised my copy of Gay New York higher for the duration of the ride. I don't know if they noticed and I don't care. I didn't put the book away and while that's not the same thing as a confrontation, it's something.
myblackeyedfire: (Default) is helping.

I've spent the better part of my life watching Zoe Bell in fight and action scenes, and this has the same effect.

Sleep for me soon. I'll see what the day brings.


myblackeyedfire: (Default)

January 2016

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