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There are gay people in your phone?!!! Tiny, tiny gay people? I am jealous.

/|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\

happy halloween to all the gay people in my phone

/|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\ /|\(^v^)/|\

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Graveyard

I’ve always been attracted to the old graveyard in my town. It’s several acres across, and full to the brim of graves no older than the 19th century. The scattered plots and old stones hold a melancholy beauty, standing as a testament to time. They leave me with a certain yearning that I can’t describe. An empathy for lives once lived and now long gone. I Iike to find the graves with faded engravings and broken stones. To kneel before them and say, “You haven’t been forgotten. I remember you.”

The city stopped maintaining it years ago. Grasses, weeds, and wildflowers are beginning to swallow stones whole, sucking them into the Earth with their dead. Each day I come to the graveyard and inspect each one. I run my fingers along crumbling, broken sandstone, trying to make out what letters once were there. I feel my stomach knot when I see graves where the birth and death dates are only months apart. The ones only monogrammed leave me wishing I could know this person and honor their life. It makes my heart ache. Yet here is where I want to be, at peace, among the memories of love and life.

If only someone remembered me, so I could remember which plot is mine.

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Hey squad! The team behind one of my fave podcasts did a thing! So I’m taking advantage of your eyeballs and giving them a shameless plug. It’s Pride! Be gay, sing songs! ~~~~~ Episode 1 of the Flame is officially out on all podcasting platforms (Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, iHeart Radio,Pandora and more!)!

The Flame tells the story of two women: Jamie (@Ellie Brigida), an LGBTQ bar owner, and Sam (Jasmin Savoy Brown) the woman selling the building the bar inhabits, and the inevitable sparks that end up flying between them! With the help of her best friend, Heather (Leigh Holmes Foster), and bar regular Jo (Jenn Colella), can the residents of The Flame keep the bar alive? Or can Sam’s friend Mel (Valerie Rose Lohman) help her work through her complicated feelings about her father’s death and the building she grew up in before she makes a rash decision?

Subscribe and listen at our Broadway Podcast Network page: bpn.fm/theflame

And don’t forget our listening party tonight at 6pm PST/9pm EST if you want to listen along with the creators of the Flame, Ellie Brigida, Leigh Holmes Foster, Caitlyn Clear and Valerie Rose Lohman!

Register for the Listening Party here: bit.ly/flameparty

We’ll see you at the Flame, where everybody is family!

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Langston Hughes: Beaumont to Detroit (1943)

Looky here, America What you done done – Let things drift Until the riots come

Now your policemen Let the mobs run free. I reckon you don’t care Nothing about me.

You tell me that hitler Is a mighty bad man. I guess he took lessons From the ku klux klan.

You tell me mussolini’s Got an evil heart. Well, it mus-a been in Beaumont That he had his start –

Cause everything that hitler And mussolini do Negroes get the same Treatment from you

You jim crowed me Before hitler rose to power – And you’re still jim crowing me Right now, this very hour.

Yet you say we’re fightin For democracy. Then why don’t democracy Include me?

I ask you this question Cause I want to know How long I got to fight BOTH HITLER – AND JIM CROW.

Photo: Stephen Ulyanov

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Indeed he does. And like a cat who has just realized that the bowl of luscious silver cream in front of him is all his.

Jamie seeing Claire in her wedding dress for the first time | 1.07 - The Wedding

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Why aren’t we? This is a good question.

Why aren’t we celebrating her?

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happy ides of march everybody! seek revenge, settle a debt, and stab your beloved friend - it’s that time of year.

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Graveyard

I’ve always been attracted to the old graveyard in my town. It’s several acres across, and full to the brim of graves no older than the 19th century. The scattered plots and old stones hold a melancholy beauty, standing as a testament to time. They leave me with a certain yearning that I can’t describe. An empathy for lives once lived and now long gone. I Iike to find the graves with faded engravings and broken stones. To kneel before them and say, “You haven’t been forgotten. I remember you.”

The city stopped maintaining it years ago. Grasses, weeds, and wildflowers are beginning to swallow stones whole, sucking them into the Earth with their dead. Each day I come to the graveyard and inspect each one. I run my fingers along crumbling, broken sandstone, trying to make out what letters once were there. I feel my stomach knot when I see graves where the birth and death dates are only months apart. The ones only monogrammed leave me wishing I could know this person and honor their life. It makes my heart ache. Yet here is where I want to be, at peace, among the memories of love and life.

If only someone remembered me, so I could remember which plot is mine.

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REGÉ-JEAN PAGE Saturday Night Live — Mary Ellen Matthews (2021)

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kindness is a discipline, not a trait

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Color me impressed

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