This one’s for you Charlie. Huayhuash, Peru.
Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
fuck every single time that last line gets quoted without the rest
“I have learned that a woman can be a fighter, a freedom fighter, a political activist, and that she can fall in love and be loved. She can be married, have children, be a mother. Revolution must mean life also; every aspect of life.”— Leila Khaled
…chase the Sun.
When I was a teenager, there was a cartoon that I loved and marked me forever. When I first saw two women together, I was surprised. It was something I had never seen… and I wanted it to be real. And it was.
Haruka and Michiru were the first lesbian couple I saw in my life (or the first I can remember). And since then, more than 15 years ago, they became my absolute favourite pairing of all times.
Now, when I see Korra and Asami on screen, I can’t help but to feel nostalgic. I can’t help but to pray that these two end up together. Why? Because I long for young girls, confused and isolated, to understand that it’s okay to feel those kind of feelings for other girls, for them to know they are not the only ones craving for the world to accept them, and to know that you’ll find that special person you’ll be willing to fight for… no matter what anyone else says.