I Feel Like A Universal Young Queer Experience Is Knowing That You'll Never Actually Get To Be Your True

okay but THIS hits differently

i have work in a few hours but if i didn’t, we would have a dance party in our living room right now. we would blast billy joel and taylor swift and anyone else you’d like to listen to.

i b like *missing dan howell noises*

i wonder how she likes her coffee or tea or if she even likes those types of warm drinks. maybe she prefers hot chocolate. probably with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.

Generation Z

Generation Z was born with the tragedy of 9/11 shadowing our birth certificates. A warning signal of what’s to come in the rest of our lives.

Because we grew up going to class with four— yes, four— of our classmates raising their hands and having scars on their arms being exposed. No one says anything because it’s too common for the guidance counselor to deal with, so everyone adverts their eyes instead.

We have, time and time again, gone to class only to hide under our desks for four hours not being sure whether the alarm blaring in or ears is a drill or not. Texting your parents worried because nobody knows what’s going on, and all you can do is hope that this is one of the dozens of drills you have each month and not one of the hundreds of school shootings every year.

We’re afraid to go to concerts and movie theaters and malls, and the general fucking outside world with our friends or family because of the terrorism displayed on the news. We’re scared of ending up dead every time we leave our house because the chances of it happening are more likely than it not.

We grew up in a mental health crisis and a new age of terrorism and violence. We don’t have memories of being happy, because as soon as we became self aware we knew what was going on around us.

And every time we say something to make things better for the next generation after us; every time we cry or slit our wrists just like we know to do oh so well; every time we try to do anything in the our lives we’re told that we’re too young to understand. That we have nothing to fear.

And when we’re dead, what do we have to fear then?

When we’re dead, will we finally be heard?

Sometimes I imagine foetus dan meeting phil for the first time and falling in love almost immediately but being really scared about it but it’s okay bc phil is patient and kind and understands him better than he knows himself

Then I imagine foetus phil meeting this boy that he has an overwhelming need to love and protect and for the first time ever someone fully understands Phil and his quirks and he makes him feel so accepted and confident and strong

Then I remember that this actually happened, these boys are real and gay and in love I’m gonna fucking throw myself out of a window now

i would love to explain everything in my room to someone i have so many stories of why and what things are

my secret agenda is actually just to sit in your room and show you my favorite songs while you explain different things you have on your wall or your desk to me

i want to go on a date to a farmers market and wear straw hats and carry around wicker baskets 🥺

It has come to my attention that answering “How are you” with “not dead yet” may be alarming to some folks,