Mi Amore Vole Fe

College student in Chicago, majoring in Lady Gaga. Spend my time with friends, dancing, and/or performing as 'GoGo' who has an affinity for high heels and thick beats. Don't be a drag, and say hello to a fellow Queen!

"

If you’re a boy writer, it’s a simple rule: you’ve gotta get used to the fact that you suck at writing women and that the worst women writer can write a better man than the best male writer can write a good woman. And it’s just the minimum. Because the thing about the sort of heteronormative masculine privilege, whether it’s in Santo Dommingo, or the United States, is you grow up your entire life being told that women aren’t human beings, and that women have no independent subjectivity. And because you grow up with this, it’s this huge surprise when you go to college and realize that, “Oh, women aren’t people who does my shit and fucks me.”

And I think that this a huge challenge for boys, because they want to pretend they can write girls. Every time I’m teaching boys to write, I read their women to them, and I’m like, “Yo, you think this is good writing?” These motherfuckers attack each other over cliche lines but they won’t attack each other over these toxic representations of women that they have inherited… their sexist shorthand, they think that is observation. They think that their sexist distortions are insight. And if you’re in a writing program and you say to a guy that their characters are sexist, this guy, it’s like you said they fucking love Hitler. They will fight tooth and nail because they want to preserve this really vicious sexism in the art because that is what they have been taught.

And I think the first step is to admit that you, because of your privilege, have a very distorted sense of women’s subjectivity. And without an enormous amount of assistance, you’re not even going to get a D. I think with male writers the most that you can hope for is a D with an occasional C thrown in. Where the average women writer, when she writes men, she gets a B right off the bat, because they spent their whole life being taught that men have a subjectivity. In fact, part of the whole feminism revolution was saying, “Me too, motherfuckers.” So women come with it built in because of the society.

It’s the same way when people write about race. If you didn’t grow up being a subaltern person in the United States, you might need help writing about race. Motherfuckers are like ‘I got a black boy friend,’ and their shit sounds like Klan Fiction 101.

The most toxic formulas in our cultures are not pass down in political practice, they’re pass down in mundane narratives. It’s our fiction where the toxic virus of sexism, racism, homophobia, where it passes from one generation to the next, and the average artist will kill you before they remove those poisons. And if you want to be a good artist, it means writing, really, about the world. And when you write cliches, whether they are sexist, racist, homophobic, classist, that is a fucking cliche. And motherfuckers will kill you for their cliches about x, but they want their cliches about their race, class, queerness. They want it in there because they feel lost without it. So for me, this has always been the great challenge.

As a writer, if you’re really trying to write something new, you must figure out, with the help of a community, how can you shed these fucking received formulas. They are received. You didn’t come up with them. And why we need fellow artists is because they help us stay on track. They tell you, “You know what? You’re a bit of a fucking homophobe.” You can’t write about the world with these simplistic distortions. They are cliches. People know art, always, because they are uncomfortable. Art discomforts. The trangressiveness of art has to deal with confronting people with the real. And sexism is a way to avoid the real, avoiding the reality of women. Homophobia is to avoid the real, the reality of queerness. All these things are the way we hide from encountering the real. But art, art is just about that.

Oct 2nd at 12AM / via: onetothestate / op: ofgrammatology / 40,736 notes

Junot Diaz speaking at Word Up Bookshop, 2012 (via ofgrammatology)


"I’m so happy. I’m so honoured to be here tonight with you, for you. In any way I can be of service, I wanted to be here. Just like all of you, I am here to celebrate history in the making. And I know that there were some comedians on before me but I’m going to take a more serious route. I would like to thank everyone from the Supreme Court to every legislator and political leader that has stood with us. I congratulate all of you as we assemble here, on the pier. Tonight truly gives a new meaning to ‘pier-queen’. I am so fortunate to have been welcomed by all of you into the LGBT community and to this family. From the very young aged to the elders of this community, they share their stories with me daily. I listen to their stories and I understand more of the history and I marvel at how our civil rights movement is a continuum, it is ongoing, it is so brave. It was born, like you, to survive. Our evolution as LGBT citizens and as allies continues to change and we see that the further we are able to reveal and share our lives, the further we move into the hearts and minds of other Americans. To everyone that came out to your family: thank you. To everyone that came out to their friends and to their coworkers, even though they were afraid, everyone who was fearless to tell their brave story: this change is happening because of you. To the ones who had the courage to challenge, to mobilize, to take action and to inspire a movement. A movement that was in a place of feeling lesser than to now a visible, powerful, organized, peaceful and loving community that demands full equality, full protections and safety guaranteed to us under the law. We want nothing less than every other American. I’m here tonight to honour my heroes. And luckily I have many to look up to and many to look at tonight. We’re here for our activists and our icons. From Harvey Milk to Bayard Rustin, Frank Kameny, Larry Kramer; to Rita Mae Brown and Susan Anthony right up to the real warrior of the weekend: Edith Windsor. And of course, another great icon: Cher. When I was a young girl, in high school, grade school and younger, I was considered to be an outcast and I just couldn’t find my place. Where did I fit in? When I look back on that time, I remember feeling that I was cut from a different mold. I wasn’t naturally thin like most of my female classmates. My Italian heritage showed its stronghold in my nose and I found it very hard during this time to maintain any healthy friendships and a healthy sense of self. I felt no sense of value and that depression, that shame, it carried me into my twenties… even into my career. And although, during this pivotal time of growth, I didn’t find that normal acceptance that I thought I would have in school, there was a particular crowd that did accept me. It was a particular crowd who made room for me at their table. Who helped me out when I felt I couldn’t and who loved me for exactly who I was: it was you. And to stand here equal to you tonight, it’s been a dream of mine since my very first experiences with the LGBT community when I was just a little girl in dance school. Since then, I’ve always had this strange relationship with God. I didn’t know if God was real or what God meant. I certainly didn’t know what he meant to America and it was because I felt so damaged, so destroyed, so degraded by those kids at school and by my own psychological struggles with my body, by men in the business who only wanted me for sex and money, as I tried to keep a famous face and carry on. It was you that saved me. You saved me, my friends in the LGBT community, time and time again. And I saw God for the first real time in all of you. You were sent to me like angels to protect me and to save me. It was you who understood my need to hide behind the wigs, the glasses, the glamour of the clothing, the fantasy that set me free, my passion for theatre, my passion for art, my worth as a woman. What is transcendental God for many, is for me real everyday because I get to be with you. I get to see God every day when I’m with you. And now I’m so lucky. My passion for freedom runs between us connected, it’s like a vein. I’m yours and if you’ll have me, you will always be mine. I wanted to thank my heroes who are here tonight: my friends Frederic, who does my hair and for Brandon who does my clothes. For all of the late night talks and the tears, never wanting anything from me other than our deep friendship. Your ability to heal a broken phoenix with all your magic and transform me back. So many of you are geniuses at this and you are the reason that I am so strong today. The strength and the perseverance, I feel it. Because you’ve never given up on you, I knew I could never give up on me. I’m here for the youth and their rights and to be a visible figure for them in any way I can be, to help them become the best individuals that they can with no limits on their potential and on their future. That is why I started the Born This Way Foundation with my mother. That is why I released my album, Born This way. I want to remind the world of the cultural relevance and importance of this community. We are not a niche; we are a big, giant part of humanity. It is time for us to be mainstream. Although we will party and celebrate tonight, I just want to remind you that Gay Pride started as a rally. So lets rally on one issue and repeat the last word of each phrase for me. We are the continuum. We are ongoing. We continue the spirit of the first official gay rally in 1970 in New York one year after Stonewall. And although this weekend is a time for victory, I am a citizen of New York and I demand the rights to safe streets. The violence that has taken place towards LGBTs in the past months is unacceptable here and anywhere, enough is enough. But tonight will be our night and now we can marry it if we want to. It’s our win. Doesn’t it feel nice to win? And before I go I just want to thank you. It’s my lgbt friends and fans who said to me: “I knew Lady Gaga when”. Well, look who the star is now. Now I get to say that I knew you when. Now I get to say I knew you when you suffered, when you felt unequal, when you felt there was nothing to look forward to. I knew you then and I knew you when, but I really know you now." 

Jun 30th at 4PM / via: ladyxgaga / op: ladyxgaga / 907 notes

Lady Gaga’s full speech at NYC Pride (via ladyxgaga)


Feb 21st at 4PM / via: anthagio / op: ladyxgaga / 3,949 notes

ladyxgaga:

Lady Gaga - Monster (Chew Fu Remix)

After three years of waiting, DJ Chew Fu has finally released his remix of Gaga’s “Monster”. The remix was initially going to accompany the single release of “Monster”, but plans were scrapped and the remix was shelved.


visualscott:

thefairestblogofall:

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FUCK

(Source: frozeninarendelle)


Feb 14th at 10AM / via: retrodancemonster / op: amenfashion / 10,609 notes

(Source: amenfashion)


Feb 13th at 8PM / via: carmelinaxox / op: ignorantbread / 1,972 notes

We’ve done this before

(Source: ignorantbread)


INCUBATION/REINCARNATION

(Source: tasteoflanadelrey)


Feb 13th at 6PM / via: scieb / op: scieb / 6,822 notes

Feb 11th at 9PM / via: scieb / op: scieb / 4,130 notes

Sep 13th at 8PM / via: scieb / op: scieb / 2,789 notes

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