Harri drives a bus
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randomfedora.bsky.social
Harri drives a bus
@randomfedora.bsky.social
120 followers 200 following 63 posts
Your Friendly Neighborhood Asexual Bus Driver. Most of my time is spent thinking about transit, it’s probably an autism thing
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randomfedora.bsky.social
Everyone please appreciate my Christmas tree, and it’s custom film theming
A small Christmas tree decorated with used 35mm film canisters, undeveloped 35mm film, and empty film boxes
November 21, 2025 at 4:28 PM
randomfedora.bsky.social
But this honestly feels like some of my best work, and that feels really good. One day we’ll be able to stop protesting, but for now we fight.
October 30, 2025 at 3:26 AM
randomfedora.bsky.social
Truthfully I wasn’t expecting much out of this exercise, I mostly wanted to just document it as a way to improve my photography skills.
October 30, 2025 at 3:26 AM
randomfedora.bsky.social
I shared a bunch of these on insta, but I shot like 8 rolls of black and white film at the No Kings protest in Provo a few weeks ago, and finally got the negative scans back
October 30, 2025 at 3:26 AM
randomfedora.bsky.social
Hi, I’m Harrison, and my pronouns are they/them.

Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈
On existence Why do I exist? What purpose do I serve? What I feel and how I love. No matter what I do I feel like I do it wrong. Be it fitting in with my peers or friends. I worry I may never fit in. What is the point? In elementary school I once wished I was a girl, because boys don’t cry, but that’s all I wanted to do. High school was a mine field, how do you fit in when the only club you loved filled you with regret? How can I really love and feel authentic to myself? Writing this now I don’t have the answer, maybe I never will. Sadness is something I don’t feel often, how I wish I did. In its absence I only feel numb, “be happy” they say. But how without the other? “I don’t understand” neither do I. It seems silly to want sadness. But sadness allows the release of grief. How can my grief escape except through tears? How can I be me? The connection to my own self is severed, the sparks looking to arc. Maybe one day, like lightning it will shoot across the sky, a beacon to where I need to be, what I am. I wish I knew the answers, but that may never happen. Knowing what might have been, a curse beyond everything else. Seeing the world, while feeling lost. It’s funny the way it manifests, the hope and the fear, the happy and sad, the creation and destruction. Here’s to a new beginning? Or maybe an end. Autism makes it feel funny, even worse when you don’t realize it. My gender has felt more and more like a shrug as my life has gone on. I haven’t felt truly myself yet, and while this may just be a phase, I can’t exist in the what if, because what is this life if not to exist well?
June 3, 2025 at 4:30 AM
randomfedora.bsky.social
Lest anyone thing I’m exaggerating here’s the whole conversation we had
March 13, 2025 at 6:02 PM
randomfedora.bsky.social
This is mine, which as you can see is very heavily tilted towards UTA.
Four UTA transit passes stored in a trading card binder. Eight UTA Premium monthly passes stored in a trading card binder. Eight transit passes from various transit agencies stored in a trading card binder.
November 18, 2024 at 5:36 PM
randomfedora.bsky.social
Literally the next few lines are somehow even worse
November 15, 2024 at 4:38 PM