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it's confusing to see that there is no place for you because you continue here and there, you continue to occupy a chair in the room and pass by on some side of the sidewalk, you are aware of it and your senses are there to prove it but no one notices you and you are in that place like a dust on the top of the wardrobe that someone thinks 'later i will clean it' and forget about it until it bothers them again and they leave it for later again and that's it again and again
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The time I made my butch bf watch princess and the pauper and it got too real
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butchfemme joy is so pure and sacred and special and beautiful and-
i can’t believe those photos exist, it’s like a movie scene
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i just might feel good with a pussy wetting and pressing my dick (i don't have a penis and i'm delusional)
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sometimes i think considerably that maybe i understand myself as unworthy of being loved very much because i don't understand love, i can't understand it in a way that i'm not able to recognize if i love someone, so why doesn't that mean that i can't recognize that someone loves me either? this would explain several of the problems i encounter in forming relationships, in initiating and maintaining them, even those that do not involve romantic love, all those that involve demarcation of sentimental moments and the waiting for an expressive return. how can this be so simple for so many people and for me something so hard?
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just listed these lino print butch + femme bait patches to my shop! they are handmade with lots and lots of love :) 💌🤍
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i feel guilty for desiring sexually, whether it's someone or just the act of thinking about sex and touching, even non-intimate ones. i know that being attracted to women doesn't make me a monster, but i still feel a fear of being repulsive, a fear that the mere feeling or thought is inappropriate because i'm a lesbian. what scares me is knowing that seeing myself that way is not something that scares me. when did this become commonplace? why do i have memories of thinking this way since i was a pre-adolescent? what made me so afraid of being a monster? i wonder if this is one of the many consequences of being cast as a freak for being intersex, an stranger for being autistic, a predator for being a lesbian, or the whole body of work
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i want so badly that a femme just asks me to impregnate her with my strap and that i don't let any drops of cum fall out of her pussy, otherwise i would have to kiss and gently fuck her delicious asshole non-stop while she rocks her boobs without allowing me to touch them until i finish my first job. and when it was over, she would compensate me with the power to trap her little arms and finally be able to suck those tits while she rubs her wet cunt on my lap
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found this insane note i wrote when i was really high one night back in january

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even if this is a manifest report, it is a sensitive request for acceptance or a warning of shared affection made in the ear. it's beautiful how femmes can cry out for love and to love butchs, i cry out to be able to love femmes in my butch way as beautifully as
#butch #butch4femme #butchfemme #lesbian
To be a high femme lesbian 🎀
To be a high femme lesbian is to be a protector. Of butches, of history , of selfhood.
To be a high femme lesbian is to be a paradox of all that is heteronormative, of all that femininity is expected to be.
To be a high femme lesbian is to be gentle , to be kind , to be a safe haven for the ostracised stone butch lesbians in my circle and let them know there is a home for them, beating within my ribs.
To be a high femme lesbian is to be authentic , to not perform femininity but to reclaim and redefine it for myself. For the other high femmes I meet , for the butches I cherish.
To be a high femme lesbian is to have your own stone. To not let it be chipped , be melted , be disregarded as heterosexual indecency. To allow your sexuality to flourish in the cradling of a stone butch’s hands. To allow theirs to find refuge in your stone sanctuary.
To be a high femme lesbian is an honour , not to be taken for granted. It is love personified , it is unity and it is freedom.
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being queer has never been about just queer action, it's about our place as people who aren't covered by the norm. our identity is made up of collective and personal claims, based on the local and global queer culture built up over the centuries. we are made up of signs, expression, and feelings, whether these are part of our anger, longing, confusion, affection, or pride. but what about sex and love? where does it fit into our struggle these days, the breaking of our taboos, and my own life? yes, i take this question to myself because this has been my question for many years. reading pages of old queer newsletters, seeing photos of manifestations and listening to stories about our queer ancestors is able to clarify that there is a serious debate and a strong mention of sex and love, the subversion of roles or even the construction of our own on the streets and in bed. but what about me? why do i feel so far removed from everything that pertains to sex and love? why, even though i understand myself to be part of it, i also feel so separate? and why do i feel that at the same time my queer identity brings me closer to sex and love, makes me so distant from it? i'm a lesbian who doesn't see himself as sexually attractive and lovable to other lesbians, am i really a lesbian to other lesbians? i'm a person who doesn't see himself as sexually understood or perhaps as not capable of loving and being loved by other people, am i a person for them or am i not in fact a person?
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despite all the positivity, being a butch who loves femmes in brazilian territory in the 21st century has made me sick. i feel problematic about it, not because i actually have a problem with it, but because everyone around me has a problem with me for it. i feel like a monster to lesbians, even though i'm a lesbian, i feel unworthy of being loved by a lesbian
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a typography piece i posted on instagram
i absolutely adore all of my butch and femme friends, these friendships mean the world to me 💟💟
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