
(1994- ) | 18+ blog | amab, enby, demisexual (they/them) | AL | just a gay lil’ trash panda boi surviving in the south with long covid (2020-) and autoimmune diseases here, very few spoons available. Adult themes are here about current issues, intersectionality, anti-apartheid, queerness, sexuality, gender, art, thirst traps, sub space, chronic illnesses, and more. #ACAB #blacklivesmatter #translivesmatter #blacktranslivesmatter #freepalestine
316 posts
I Think That Unless You Have Experienced Life While Being Actually Dead Broke Or Near It At Least Once,
i think that unless you have experienced life while being actually dead broke or near it at least once, its hard to really grasp at how, in many places but in america in particular, ‘having money’ is the access card that allows you to participate, materially, in being fully human. even in non-crisis situations, situations where a paycheck is on the way, you have enough of some kind of food to make it, and you aren’t in any danger of losing shelter, even if you hardly spend any money when you do have it, the state of being completely without money is a state of being hyperaware, constantly, of how much smaller your world is all of a sudden and how many basic aspects of mobility and enrichment are off limits to you. its profoundly psychologically agitating to self worth and well-being even sans the trauma of worse states of deprivation, and i don’t think a lot of people who have lived comfortably without this experience understand that there’s a critical difference between ‘having less money’ and ‘having no money’ when talking about related issues.
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More Posts from Deepfriedbussy

Any profile with cop-worshipping themes or associates with such profiles always get the reported and blocked tap from here. Cops are terrorists who, in the United States, were formed institutionally as slave patrols and continue to uphold the rule of legal slavery through the criminal injustice system, prison labor, and legal slavery unto this day. Stop Cop City.
What’s disgusting is seeing queer—mainly gay male—erotic blogs that fetishize police in a dangerously fashy, right-wing way. Never worship the authorities that keep you down: be a Marsha and not a chuddy chad.
Watching the acab leave y'all's bodies when the dude in the thirst trap is a cop or role playing as a cop 🤨

*gathers notes like these to make a great pinned post*
Queer people who are anti-trans boggle my mind like bro who are you to hate them? They fought for your rights and you repay them by calling them freaks like dude what do you think conservatives call YOU??? We are all dirty queers in the eyes of conservative's eyes, you aren't special, bestie :)
You aren't "one of the good ones" you're just an asshole
Thick guys in gear that make them look thicker is just a thick slice of heaven.
One of the fantasies I’ve had for so many years involves the scene of being a service sub for the football team, particularly the linebackers and all the thick guys playing. Despite knowing nothing about sports and knowing that I will never understand about the rules, the rigidities, and the way people center it as their religion where I’m from puts me in the perfect and advantageous “position” to just stay here in my own lane as cute, dumb, slutty, and small for the raging guts and arms of men who pulse testosterone. What if there’s a regulation of some nature where there needs to be a tiebreaker and they bring me out to be fucked by the two opposing team captains to break the tie in front of the audience be being fucked. It’s a win-win. 🥵🥵🥵👉👈
Parker Boudreaux
Us football 🏈


It’s really hard living with disability and surviving the cruel regime of the United States. I’m tired of resting. I’m tired of being an ambulatory cane user who’s looking into wheelchairs just to reclaim a better fidelity for mobility. I’m tired of having to grieve alone what COVID-19 took from me for three years now.
I was scared. I was alone in isolation. There were no ambulances or hospital beds. I reached a critical point of multi day high fever and drowning in my lung fluid that I was ready to die. I reached a point where my body gave it all and the lights faded out. I was scared to survive. I still feel this.
I hope these days spent resting will mean something, for I am not sure or optimistic. For now, I am scared and I am tired.
I am not broken. I have been wounded.
I am not damaged. I have been hurt.
I am not useless. I am making the best of my limited capacity.
I am not lazy. I need rest to heal.
I am not unreliable. I live an unpredictable life.
I am not irresponsible. I am relearning how to function.