Salt 🏳️‍⚧️

Fucking Twitter yo. I suppose it’s distressing enough watching self proclaimed bourgeois trannies flaunt their collaborationist life styles. But holy shit. You ever love a whore who lost hope and killed herself? That’s worse! Twitter is backpages all over again. Threw us under the bus a lot. Cunt.

I genuinely think Ari Drennen does not think of trans people who exist below a certain tax bracket, yet insists on generalizing her incredibly narrow and limited worldview to the experiences of a population pushed out of the formal economy worldwide.

Wow. So the biggest problem is a lack of healthcare and housing opportunities for trans people. Good thing no one’s calling that a pipe dream.

Who said anything about exile? This bitch with a huge platform is talking shit about the rest of us. Go off though.

Yeah because if your mean to a rich asshole who’s passive aggressively implying you can’t be real tran if your poor that makes YOU the terf ally. I guess.

I don’t really see much of a difference with libs like Ari and conservatives like Kaitlyn Jenner. At this rate they’ll collaborate on some all tgirls are rich and spoiled or else they’re faking it project.

So I basically have to interact with people on the internet to make friends but also that’s how it works in real life? How come we didn’t just get so good at social that the internet was rendered redundant.

Thank you!

Transtifa, mid tag from and up dress angle. She’s balanced on a wrought iron fence tagging the beam of a bridge in northeast Minneapolis.

For better or worse I encouraged her to paint and be herself. Stand up for herself. I took this picture when she had been on an insta hiatus re graffiti. I told her it was too hot not to post. That damn insta was such a source of angst for her. Transtifa lives on. She blocked me but ya know lol

I got to be the bitch consoling her next girlfriend after she did the deed. I got to hear that what she probably wanted was me. Obviously. It was always the girl before the girl she had in the moment that she loved the most. The last one she fumbled. I fumbled her girls too. We’re all just fucked.

She yelled at me about all her live life fumbles. In Fargo she was yelling about how she would have married the girl before me. I never had the heart to tell her I had ring for her if it had gone another way. She wanted to go paint with the next girl. She got a few more years of adventure.

We had a domestic in Fargo about this time of year in 22 and I turned into “every tranny in Minneapolis” it made a certain sense. The fear and judgment, boundaries that seem lazy and selfish. I was just sick of her telling me to kill myself. Whining about hurting her loved ones.

Idk how many love triangles we had vs mutual friends or how that all worked. All I know is I broke after Sloane broke and I cut off, ghosted or distanced my from all our mutuals. It took years but idk Minneapolis fucked us up. We fucked up. Our friends got cold.

The shit I told this woman when we blew up will haunt me forever. The things she threw back at me. We held each other accountable as we could and hey looks like it killed one of us. Or lot of things did, who knows. I miss her so much. I finally get to after being so scared of each other.

You can’t heal for other people. All you can do is be there for them. Sometimes it takes a toll. On you. People aren’t usually nice to whores like Sloane. She wasn’t nice to her friends as much as she’d have liked. We understood and we distanced ourselves when we had to.

You can live plenty in thirty six years I suppose. Asking more of her would have been rude considering what she went through on a regular basis. I’m caught feeling responsible for her life as if her death was incidental. She was suicidal when I met her. She lived another four and a half year.

But we got to be ourselves. She got me outside when I was In some hellish agoraphobic spiral. She got herself outside. She convinced me to quit meth. I only started it in the first place because I loved her and it was fun. I wanted to show her she could quit. She just didn’t want to.

Maybe I’m sour about the graffiti because I saw the whole arc. She put up two decades worth of paint in four years. Something had to give. You can love an artist but no one said it’s easy or fun. It’s a lot of miles of train tracks. It’s boring and it hurts. Same as turning tricks.

You can do all the right things and still have a bad outcome. Sloane had a lot of friends. We reached out. She reached out to us. Idk if I saved her life, she definitely saved mine a time or too. We took turns in our friend group. Most people just knew her as Transtifa at the end. Fucking legend.

Two blonde trans women smiling in a van.

So I met Sloane five years ago today. It’s been really hard processing her suicide this spring. This Cunt meant the world to me. I’ve been on auto pilot without her. I was a neurotic mess with her. I knew what it was and where it was going. I could have gone with her. I’m not sure why I didn’t.

Dating is hard what with all the labels. I’m kinda over being a respectable lesbian in my private life now that I’m back to appearing as one on the outside. From here how do I court staight women who desire sissy husbands? The good pre castrated kind.

I got a prescription for ridleing so you don’t have to answer my questions three but I’m entitled to ask.

Social media sucks. In the old internet days you’d have to do something outlandish such as datura and post about it on a forum such as erowid.org if you wanted to make weird friends who do drugs n sex. It built character. We didn’t have artificial, we had salvia. No one pretended intelligence.

It feels kinda good to not have built up any meaningful connections here in the last six months or so. Like… you fuck head cowards are leaving about some damn nerd talk! Okay! Guess I’ll have to keep making connections in my small town irl.

Yeah I’m on Bluesky while I’m in the woods. My excuse is I’m here at this camp sight for like 12 hours minimum and didn’t bring a book or journal.

Fuck I hope I die soon.

Trans lesbians like to scroll on Bluesky and only acknowledge customers with a curt smile or a “just that for ya” if they bring money to the cash register at the bookstore.

If political violence is bad, explain Jesus. You can’t!

Oh of course. The sky is on the rag and the sea says it’s “fine”. Perfect time to relax. Nothing to over think. It’s all smiles tonight. Smoke a bowl probably. Maybe have some chocolate ready. But yes. Relax. Anything else would be reckless.

Blood moon in Pisces.