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curly hair tips
not an expert, just what i do. first off, you can feed any ingredients list to curlsbot for advice when picking a new product. wash days johnson’s baby shampoo ecostore conditioner (optional) garnier fructis’s hair food range in the big tubs. watch for when countdown has this on special — it’s good value anyway but…
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proverbs 3:6
in the end maybe this was the problem, afterall: i was never going to listen. or—i did. listened toyour spiel about how He knows all my twistedways, about Him telling you when i lied. i had toacknowledge that this, at least, was an untruth.Him and His divine wisdom and His omniscienceand He never once told…
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my submission for the conversion practices prohibition legislation bill
my story It’s easy to pretend anyone arguing in favor of conversion therapy simply does not think that people like me exist. That, even if they believe in queerness, they are merely ignorant of the possibility someone is a migrant, a sex worker, a transgender person (with a pre-existing hormone difference!), a lesbian, an autistic…
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lazy-type
on my nintendo switch there is a mammoth on my new horizons island. or at least, i have to assume that’s what he’s meant to be. he wears a leopard-print tunic one-shoulder flintstones-style & his name is tucker. tucker in english, hajime in japanese. did you know that hajime means one? or first? the wikia…
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brown is
brown is resilience. my parents always told me i was heavy-boned, built from cast-iron at four-foot-ten and heavier than i should be. small enough to blow away on the wind on the wellington waterfront in my mother’s bright red windbreaker, borrowed to travel with the woman who raped me. was raping me, flown from california…
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n f t
NON-FUNGIBLE TOKENS is already such a negative phrase it starts by telling you no and ends with a word i already know from people saying they need a brownskin person for their photographs NEAT FUCKING TWEETS sometimes as an artist i think about the things that get retweeted and the things that don’t NO FUCKING…
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thumbprint
and what am i meant to say to you when you took my little clay heart, me and all my loves, and shaped it? glazed it, too, that crackle-shard stuff that happens when your outsides cool faster than your insides. they tear apart, then. contents too hot to hold, lawsuit-worthy, overfull. spilling over like anger…
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opprobrium
i’m tired of caring. you, your consecrated archways, your story-spinning whirligigs, the way you papier-mache together cleavage and moustachioed bravado until someone — anyone — puts the sword through the magician’s coffin. i’m tired of poisons and poultices and precipices. i’m tired of unnecessary hand-wringing and necessary interventions. i’m tired of swinging at shadows you’ve…
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in the beginning was the word
it is january and we must be brave. in all things. the ways tongues fit in mouths, or don’t. the way that resolve is a noun and a verb and we aren’t sure if either is within reach, not even if we try really really hard. the way to try can mean to strive for…