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reblogged
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spinosacha

This is Doris Pollas, the cofounder of the organisation now known as lgbt+ Denmark which by being founded in 1948 is one of the oldest if not the oldest queer organisation in the world.

Doris lived in a farm in Jutland as a child. She was always butch and figured out she was a lesbian in her teens. When she heard about a club in copenhagen where boys kissed boys and girls kissed girls she went just some months after and it was through that club she started a paper connecting queer people all up to seventies and co founded lgbt+ Denmark.

She is now 97 year and wishes for every queer person to have an as loving and accepting family as she did.

I don’t see a lot of older gays from my country, so learning about Doris, a masc lesbian, was really nice.

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i’m speechless

This is how the system of white supremacy  operates. The media is used 2 create stereotypes like blk on blk crime.They need black men to fill jail cells for the Prison Indstrial complex

You know what? I’m tired of this. I do not know what exactly they are waiting for. I mean our government comes up with “reasons” to invade other countries, such as Syria, like their government is allegedly violating human rights or something like that. but… I mean for other countries, they do not even have to go deep to bomb the fuck out of this place, they can just look at our media. And this has been happening to people of color since the media has existed.

I’ll never forget this 👇🏾

yep.

like i said, the sheer VOLUME of the ways they have come up with to oppress us is staggering.

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thediva4eva

I see no lies ……

Source: twitter.com
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I can’t stop watching this

I’m here for the big girl up front

This is my favorite thing right now.

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jeniphyer

COME THROUGH THICK MAMA IN FRONT!!! 

WJEFE IS THE FULL VIDEO I AM HERE FOR THIS ESPECIALLY THE BIG GIRL IN TJE FRONT SLAYING

WATCH THIS

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I felt awake, yet not. I could feel little trickles of water running side ways from one eye to the edge of the other side of my hairline. My mind rushing with old memories that haunt me like a rotting stench in my own home. My mind begins to sprint from memory to memory. From each memory comes regret. Eyes still shut close as my body can’t move. I’m stuck with the little beads of water trickling down as if to replenish the roots of my hair. Moments later a door closes and finally feel the panic. I reach for the nearest brown bag and breathe slower and slower. Old feelings mixed with new ones. Confusion and depression. Alas, tears stop falling and the rain pours less and less. I am alone. With you or without you. I am here feeling emotions I can not talk about, but how could I? We are different in every sense I am me and you are you. I am exhausted and you are bored so you leave to meet new people and meet friends. I am alone.

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