Costa Rica ~ photographed by Eduardo Akins
just a reminder that in 2007 Ukraine was represented by a metallic-clad drag queen that managed to snub Russia by making their song sound like they were wishing them goodbye and while I respect your opinion about the dubstep vampire if you don’t ship them you are wrong
modern les amis ♔ antonia thomas as enjolras
A woman, they whisper, as if it is a curse, as if because of her curves and her sex she is a temptress, a whore, something inhuman, a creature to feared and not to be trusted. As if because of her sex she cannot be a leader, cannot bring about change. She does not share her ‘maiden name’ - it is hers and not the business of anyone else. Enjolras is mocked for the colour of skin, for the curve of her breasts and the outward jut of her hip. “What are you doing here?” the men from the shadows tease, tongues darting out against their yellowed teeth. She spits at them, sometimes, when she cannot help it. (Enjolras can help it; but she doesn’t want to.) They ask her to make them food, to fix them sandwiches and beers; instead she brings revolution with her, in the sway of her hip and the flick of her tongue. A Goddess - an savage Apollo, a chaste Aphrodite - she is called, who graces those of the Earth with her presence. Enjolras knows the idea dangerous - that a person is more than a person - but knows that her looks will attract the attention of those who would not otherwise listen. She is more Athena than Aphrodite - always has been.
She is not a creature of sex - Enjolras is aware of her beauty, has been since men have yelled at her out of car windows about what they would do to her (even as a thirteen-year-old), but does not care for it. She cannot be seduced, though many have tried and, when attempts failed, forced themselves. Enjolras has sharp nails, though, and a bite to make the largest man howl. Her sexuality is her own, and she tames it and quells it as she pleases. The eyes of men that follow her only disgust her. There are more important things than their pleasure. There are children and women and men who sleep in the cold of Paris’ streets, who go to bed with their concave bellies seeming to eat themselves. Enjolras is a voice for them; she understands them the best she can and will howl their song, will sing it and screech it until the day she dies, whether that day be soon or when she is old.
People - men and women alike - will follow her into the depths of hell; she knows this, and knows she cannot - will not - fail them.
I’m going to temporarily disappear because of finals and projects and SAT subject tests, but the queue is set up for a few days at least, so here’s to hoping it doesn’t run out. I shall return in a week or so, but until then — ciao, my dears. Good luck to us all
my mother is terrible, she just made me stop working on my essay and come over to her bedroom and looked at me solemnly and handed me a letter from my school with the words, “what’s this,” so obviously I started dreading the worst and thinking about all the things I’ve done wrong and mentally freaking out because the envelope was all stamped and official and stuff
and all they want is literally my parents’ signatures so that the school can release my transcript to the universities because I fall into the top 9% of the school academics-wise, and this is why my mother is a troll