But then you wont have pride to go to.
Pride is the opposite of fun. It’s a gay social obligation where you’re forced to endure running into every ex-bf, ex-crush, ex-trick, and ex-friend you ever had.
“Those poor boys”
“She deserves to be punished too.”
“I’m not saying I support rape, but-“
“Sorry to say - she deserved it.”
“She put herself in harm’s way”
“But if she was fingered, then that’s not rape.”
“She ruined their lives.”
It’s creepy to realize that every single person walking around you is haunted by their secret failures, and yet so many of us are uncomfortable admitting that the structures of our public selves are being held together with desperate hope, subterfuge, and pointing out people more outwardly fucked up as a means of distraction.
“I choose not the suffocating anesthetic of the suburbs but the violent jolt of the Capital.”
Ironically, I find DC to be kinda suburban. lololol