Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer) header
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Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag

@SheFaerer

🏳️‍⚧️ she//faer Kinetic-Autistic Nonbinary Trans Woman. Trans is a Nonbinary Subset. Autodidact. Anarcha-Feminist.🔞🚯 “All we ever wanted was everything…”

 Greater L.A., CA., USA
reddit.com/u/Constance_Siobhan/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
Joined March 2007
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  • Followers1.4K
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Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)Photo by Vespertrix 💜🤍💚 #ReclaimTheFlag (@SheFaerer)
Honestly, it makes me really unhappy that a bunch of transphobes can just casually trample all over history and genderqueer/nonbinary people. genderqueerid.com/post/48778…
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She knows. We cried. We said all the things that needed saying. Ok. Time to finish my book.
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9:22pm. Finished the *The Waves*. Putting on a podcast, turning out the light. A single coffee come the morning. May everything go well. Wish that much for me.
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“All that we might have been we saw; all that we had missed, and we grudged for a moment the other's claim, as children when the cake is cut, the one cake, the only cake, watch their slice diminishing.” ~ Virginia Woolf, *The Waves*
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“However, we had our bottle of wine..” She and I. And pizza by the poolside in the chill of the growing darkness past sunset. And a walk, and talking. And time enough to piece together that moment of utmost truth. I won’t share the last text message she sent. But it was loving.
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Her son (2), sitting in pushcart: “Push me.” My bestie: “Are you sure?” Him: “Yes.” Her: “Okay-ay..” ::reaches out and pushes his shoulder:: People. The look he gave her. Like “Why would you do me like that?” Her, to me: “If you don’t tweet that..” Me: “On it.”
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She’s being really sweet to me today. I mean, nothing anyone outside of her and me would “see” but, yeah.. I love just seeing her at her ease and being herself. And omg her little paper house she’s still working on.. I’ll try to get pictures.
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Oceans of Slumber, “Just a Day”
“Just a Day” by Oceans of Slumber (Selected lyrics) And now it only feels, feels like I am failing And I can't stand a moment with myself And if I can't find a reason, then how could anyone? And I don't wanna be the reason The reason that we fail…

ALT “Just a Day” by Oceans of Slumber (Selected lyrics) And now it only feels, feels like I am failing And I can't stand a moment with myself And if I can't find a reason, then how could anyone? And I don't wanna be the reason The reason that we fail…

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Be brave, though courage threaten to fail and break asunder. Try, for as long as you can. Try. Be good. Don’t let go. Let them pry your fingers loose from your last grip, then spit at them as you fall. Your love was real. That’s what matters. Let love burn the world down.
Selfie. SheFaerer, a white woman, the fingers of her left hand touching her left shoulder area. She wears a black top, a silver pendant with rhinestones on a black cord, a silver-gray toque, and a gray mask with a mecha kitty in purples, black, and white. She looks into the camera, her eyes done in heavy black eyeliner and mascara, with a blend of purples and rose and shimmer eyeshadows.

ALT Selfie. SheFaerer, a white woman, the fingers of her left hand touching her left shoulder area. She wears a black top, a silver pendant with rhinestones on a black cord, a silver-gray toque, and a gray mask with a mecha kitty in purples, black, and white. She looks into the camera, her eyes done in heavy black eyeliner and mascara, with a blend of purples and rose and shimmer eyeshadows.

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‘Twas a month after Christmas and all through the place The ghost that was haunting alone bore my face..
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“Without illusions, hard and clear as crystal, she rode at the day with her breast bared. She let its spikes pierce her.” ~ Virginia Woolf, *The Waves*
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“Life is a dream surely. Our flame, the will-o’-the-wisp that dances in a few eyes is soon to be blown out and all will fade. I recalled my friends.” ~ Virginia Woolf, *The Waves*
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Dear cis men who say they care and that it matters how fucked up it is, the way women/fems are treated by cis men in general,—prove it: be an active thorn in the side of problematic cis men; agitate against them, harass them for their foul opinions, speak up, speak out,—fight! +
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This bullshit position of “I don’t associate with guys like that”, that you hold in stoic silence like a statue of righteousness, is a dodge! Do you not think we see you there in the background pretending you’re an NPC, an innocent bystander? Fuck you, man. Silence = Violence. +
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There is no pass for playing the quiet saint while evil “just happens” around you. You deserve all the distrust heaped on you. You lack backbone and moral fiber. You’re a passive enabler of abuse, coercion, assault, r*pe, femicide. Stop pretending otherwise, faking integrity.🖕🏻🖕🏻
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I’m not trying to be blunt, but you’re smoking hot and I feel high when you’re around me..
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It’s a morning for Tegan & Sara’s Crybaby.. Croissant, egg bites, peppermint mocha. A little break, then back to reading. Trying to finish the book before she says “Come over”.
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Looking at a /r thread by someone announcing they’re no longer a femboy bc they no longer can pretend to be a boy, and there’s so much support for them and congratulations and “good for you!”s.
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I read. I wait. In time the cleaners. Hours pass. In time her text: “Come over.” In time her company, and all the familiar sense of her company and companionship, and all that passes between us, from me to her, company and companionship, and so back and forth, as two girls +
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on as a baker’s pin as breakfast is prepared, as orange juice is poured, as the skillet pops and sizzles, and the household awakens, as croissants are buttered, as dogs fed with scraps, as children trample the floorboards, as trucks rumble by, as the cat finds a patch of light +
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in which to sun herself, regal as a queen but a petty thief and vagabond at heart. Is this not the image? There are countless others. Countless! Uncounted. But a day I imagine, which I will glimpse only the beginnings of. Her first without me in 301 days. But shhh.. shhh.. shhh.
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