I love queerness. I love instant ease with a stranger. I love how we find each other, how we pocket together.

And these miserable fucks won’t kill our joy. They’ve tried to salt the grounds of hope and look how it blooms. It blooms every fucking time no matter what they do.

Main consequence of first 🍄 experience is I can’t stop thinking about how much time people spend dicing onions.

This is difficult because the last app I joined took 3 minutes to know I only wanted to watch autistic queer women and genderweirds with rare craft obsessions give excellent takes on customer service and this one is suggesting men (?) who write about things like tech (?) & rational (?) debate (?).

My main personality trait is buying three pairs of corduroys every four years and then trying to convince people who don’t pay much attention to me that I have a wide variety of pants.

I don’t have the bandwidth to worry about microplastics honestly.