#weareorlando

If you’re waking up today and wondering why you can’t stop crying, that’s the shock of it wearing off. Now comes the sadness, the grief, and somewhere in there, the fear will happen too.

For straight people everywhere: please try to make some room for your LGBTQ colleagues, friends, and family. We are all a wreck, some of us barely keeping it together. I hate to say this, but we really don’t want to hear your opinions right now. We know this is about gun control and Islamophobia and all the rest, too, but this minute? It’s hard to be reminded in such a brutal, violent way that some people hate us very, very much, and that we live in a world, still, that debates our very existence, our rights, our humanity.

And maybe if young men didn’t grow up so steeped in homophobia promulgated to the left and to the right, every single damn minute, there wouldn’t be this much violence against us.

Also, fuck you to every politician who is telling people to pray but do nothing otherwise, to every talking head who has tolerated a conversation about who should pee where, to anyone who doesn’t shut down jokes about us.

Oh, right, and then there’s the anger.

Take care of yourself, readers. Reach out if you’re hurting too much. Hang out with animals. Step away from the computer. Listen to music. Do what you need to do to give yourself time for all of the emotions.

And then, hey, let’s go after gun control laws the same way we went after marriage.

2 Replies to “#weareorlando”

  1. Thank you.
    I’m feeling all of it. My Weight Watchers meeting leader asked for a moment for the dead and couldn’t hold it in. She came over and hugged me and I came out. Music is healing me and letting me cry; David Bowie, Jackson Browne, Leonard Cohen, Anhoni and a beautiful renaissance piece called “Fortuna Dsperata” by a wonderful group called Fretwork.

    Then I get angry on social media. I’m angry about 90% of the beautiful Latinxs being invisible.

    I’m seriously thinking of buying a steel baseball bat. I see preachers yapping and I want to punch them in the face.

    Then I hug my wife. Then I’m grateful. It’s bringing back grief I’d forgotten. It’s making me clear on who the fuck I am.

    I’m at work, crying at my computer. I love you all so much.

  2. “I can’t even . . .” doesn’t even begin to describe the disorienting aspects of all this – like something’s playing pinball with our emotions. But, deep down we all know that love will win.
    I met TopHat Eddie (and his boss Al) on a cruise last January, and found him to be just one of the loveliest people ever. Here’s a little video to give you an idea –
    https://www.facebook.com/knowleskrystel/videos/1721041258168737/

    Hugggs!
    Miss Petti

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