I wish I had better words to write down. I wish I could express everything I feel, but I can’t.
Today, my people cry.
Brazil just elected a facist, racist, misogynist and LGBT+ phobic president. Our minorities are scared today. Today, we truly saw how hate is present in our country. The next years will be hard. We will be scared, of course.
But we will resist. Next year would be the year of my life. I’m going to college, I’m going to learn to love myself. But today, I’m scared.
I’m a minority. I’m in danger. But I won’t give up. I’ll never be silenced, I’ll never let my voice be taken. I’ll keep fighting not only for me, but for my people.
We won’t be silenced. We will keep fighting and we will keep resisting.
Jesus Christ was a brown Jew in the Middle East, conceived out of wedlock in an arguably interracial if not interspecies (deity and human) relationship, raised by his mother and stepfather in place of his absent father. He may not have had a Y chromosome. He spent his early youth as a refugee in Egypt, where his family no doubt survived initially on handouts from the wealthy (You think they kept that gold, frankincense, and myrrh from the wise men? Hell no, they sold that stuff for food and lodging). He later returned with his parents to their occupied homeland and lived in poverty.
Trump and his administration are xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, fear-mongering, warmongering, tax-dodging, anti-Semitic, anti-choice, anti-welfare, anti-equal pay, anti-LGBTQIA+, anti-immigration, support tax cuts for the rich, support Citizen’s United, want to keep refugees out of this country, want to limit our ability to speak against the government, plan to abolish the Affordable Care Act, and they wrap all of that up behind a banner of “Christian family values.” If you support them, you have no right to call yourself a follower of Christ.
it’s so rare, yet so fulfilling, to see the J-man on my dash
One of my friends is literally the most religious Christian I have ever met. What does that mean in regards to her lifestyle and outlook? She loves everyone. EVERYONE. Unconditionally. And she supports healthcare and education and birth control and everything that’s necessary to have a healthy, stable society.
the whole mutual thing is really overhyped on this site. sometimes interests don’t match up and that’s the only reason why there isn’t a mutual following. if you’re a regular in my inbox or my notifications, i have visited your blog before. if i didn’t want you around for any reason, you would be blocked. so yeah. you can spam my notes and/or talk with me (and possibly become my friend) even if i’m not following you back. no worries.
On the night in question, there was a thunderstorm on Kamino. Three cadets had been trying to sneak out after lights out. They wanted to see the rain, feel it on their skin. Dogma watched the three brothers creep out of bed, all hushed whispers and socked feet, then swung out of bed himself, seeking out the nearest Training Officer to report the three cadets.
The next morning, after the cadets had been punished with cleaning every latrine in the facility – only the first day of their week long punishment – they cornered Dogma before their morning drills.
“Sell out your own brothers, Dogma?” One of them sneered, shoving him hard in the chest. “Where’s your loyalty? Did you lose it somewhere, between licking one officer’s boot to the other?”
“He hasn’t got any loyalty!” Another jeered. “Got no sense of adventure in him. Good boy, Dogma, always doing what he’s told like the dog he is.”
The remark was followed by a swift gut punch. Dogma didn’t register it fast enough to dodge it, and crumpled in on himself.
“I -.” He coughed. “I was following instructions… we have orders -.”
“Brothers come first, Dogma!” The third cadet finally spoke, delivering a swift kick to Dogma’s prostrate form. “You’ve got to be defective, going against your own brothers.” He shook his head in disgust. “Get up.”
Dogma made no attempt to move, and the cadet kicked him again. “I said get up!”
The cadet knelt down by Dogma’s face, pulled his lips back in a feral smile. “What’s the matter, Dogma? I thought you liked following orders?”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
The cadet whistled. Another chuckled from behind him. “We’ll see about that, dog.”
He straightened up, lifting his boot to stomp on Dogma when a tightly curled fist came out of nowhere. Where the cadet had once been standing, he now lay flat on his back on the floor, clutching his face, rivulets of blood pouring out from between his fingers.
“You broke my nose!” He bellowed thickly. “You kriffing piece of bantha shit-.”
“Make one more move and I’ll hit you so hard your teeth will rattle for a month.” A sharp, clear voice cut through the haze of pain Dogma felt. “Anybody else want a broken bone?”
The other two cadets knelt down to their ringleader, helping him to his feet before darting off down the hall towards the med-bay, shouting threats over their shoulders. Dogma squinted up at his savior, watching the other cadet kneel down beside him.
“Don’t move too much,” he said softly. “Your ribs might be broken.”
Dogma felt soft hands gather up the fabric of his fatigues, carefully pulling it up and running delicate fingers across his abdomen. He let out a sharp breath through his teeth at the contact.
“You wouldn’t get your ass kicked so much if you’d just let things go.” The clone commented, a sharp edge to his voice. Dogma studied the brother, took in the too-familiar face, set apart only by the shagginess of his hair, tickling his earlobes, at this length.
“Your hair’s too long, Tup.” He mumbled. Tup jabbed him in the ribs, and Dogma gasped sharply.
“Your ribs aren’t broken, just bruised.” Tup snapped back. “And I’m growing it out. General Shakk Ti said I could.”
“It’s against regulation-.”
“For kriff’s sake, Dogma, how ‘bout a thank you?”
Tup helped Dogma to his feet, let Dogma lean on him a bit.
“Thanks.” Dogma grumbled half-heartedly. “We’re going to be late for drills.”
Tup rolled his eyes, shook his head fondly. “Yeah, probably.” He gave Dogma the once over again. “Feeling alright?”
“Yeah.” Dogma muttered, pulling away from his brother. “Thank you,” He said, emphatically this time. “I mean it.”
Tup smiled, pushed his bangs out of his eyes, and followed Dogma down the hall towards drills.
Raf's rants 