Often when I encounter earlier written accounts of queerness I feel this hollow sort of sadness that some other feeling echoes inside. Something very much akin to "as if water remained stored in layers!" but in terms of how I think about history.
Often when I encounter earlier written accounts of queerness I feel this hollow sort of sadness that some other feeling echoes inside. Something very much akin to "as if water remained stored in layers!" but in terms of how I think about history.
This is so beautiful.
Often when I encounter earlier written accounts of queerness I feel this hollow sort of sadness that some other feeling echoes inside. Something very much akin to "as if water remained stored in layers!" but in terms of how I think about history.