Automatichuman - Rocks And Pretty Things

Goddamit, Typhoid Mary

Head to Telluride Colorado for this story: “Senior is a Telluride icon, instrumental in the development of the Telluride Ski Resort. Telluride would not be what it is today without Senior.”

“I’m just gonna put my paws in the water.”

i’m reading a very manly 1950s account of a hunt for el dorado but i’m thirty pages in and the narrator has already described his traveling companion as “handsome” 4 times, “extremely handsome” twice, “exceedingly handsome” once, his voice as “quietly husky” and “a husky whisper,” his fingers as long and deft, his body as “tall and cat-like,” and his eyes as some variation of ice-blue at least three times.

just men being dudes. dudes being pals. it’s great. this is great.

Whenever anybody gets on how they think cats are horrible because they don’t shower you with easy-to-read physical affection I’m left wondering how much respect or understanding they can possibly have for fellow human beings who don’t all fit their exacting social standards.

all right. so. this is a Harry Potter AU, in rambly and abbreviated form.

this is a version of events where, on the morning of November 1st, 1981, the police are called to a house in Surrey.

when they arrive, a large man with a red face and a moustache is waiting for them, brandishing a baby.

to be more accurate: he is brandishing a basket. the basket contains a baby.

he tells the police that his wife found the basket on their doorstep that morning. “Gave her the shock of her life,” he says, with a chuckle that does not seem the least bit sincere.

the police officers have a lot of questions about this, but the man does not have any useful answers. his wife, he tells them, is not in any shape to be interviewed. “she’s been poorly,” he says, “and we’ve got a baby of our own to worry about, keeping us up at all hours.”

the baby in the basket seems to be about a year old. he is cheerful, seems healthy aside from a cut on his forehead, with a crooked sticking plaster on it. he has startlingly green eyes.

there is no identifying information in the basket, except for a torn scrap of paper with ‘his name is Harry’ on it in a delicate hand.

there is nothing else to be done, it seems. the officers take baby Harry, and leave.

one of them comes back a few days later for a follow-up interview with the woman who found the baby. she seems a little fragile, and her own baby, in the next room, keeps up a constant shrieking tantrum the whole time the officer is there. “I’m sorry,” the woman says, with a brittle smile. “this has all been a bit much. I recently lost my sister, you see.”

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Life happens around you when you're in the closet

You learn the word gay and you see the flags and you know one of them is yours

And everyone else around you is living their life while you figure out which one is which

Who am I attracted to

What are my pronouns

Am I attracted to anyone

Who am I

And the friends you know who have a handle on how to express themselves well

They're having their first kiss

They're going on their first dates

First girlfriend first boyfriend

First anniversary, meeting the parents, learning what it's like to have a significant other

You're fighting all these terms inside your mind

And you don't even know which word fits you so how do you tell someone what's going on

How do you get help if the people you're supposed to be able to turn to aren't for certain safe

So life goes on outside the closet you're looking from

One day you'll join, I promise you

I promise you because I have joined life as a queer person and there's so much of life to live little one

One day you'll live in the sun as your full authentic self and you will be okay

It took years and years for me

Past middle school pubescence, past high school struggles

Past college for me

Past early adult years

And let me tell you

There's comfort in the closet but the truth in the light of day will feel like home, you'll see

We'll all be here when you're ready

jasoncharleshill Somewhere down south, New Zealand.