Maxie is playing Trisha in Die Beautiful The Musical.
Maxie assaulted a trans woman.
Trisha, a trans woman, suffered physical and sexual violence, then eventually died.
It’s 👏🏻 not 👏🏻 making 👏🏻 sense 👏🏻 anymore 👏🏻
Frenchie’s death would have affected me more if he were not played by this proud IOF soldier and genocidal Zionist. #TheBoys Anyway, Siargao is not yours to occupy! Get out of my country!
My heart broke for @morganmcmichael. She won 2 out of 3 episodes, and was still top in the one she didn’t win. But she’s still mother and @A_doubleC_D is fierce so I’d just have to accept we can’t have everything. 🥹 #DragRace#RPDRAS11
As a Xennial, I grew up using the term “viand,” as my parents and teachers used it. I don’t find it pretentious. It’s accepted as Philippine English. And as a Bisaya, I’d rather use “sud-an.”
begging Filipinos to please just use ulam in English stop usin the term "viand"
if you use the term viand it just makes you sound insanely pretentious to me lmao
UNICEF is outraged by the killing of two drivers of trucks contracted by UNICEF to provide clean water to families in the Gaza Strip.
The victims were killed by Israeli fire in an incident that took place early this morning at the Mansoura water filling point in northern Gaza. UNICEF extends our condolences to the families of the men killed.
Full statement: https://t.co/gFQLWpCcaP
These people do not care for Filipinos, in fact theyre already trying to own Siargao.
What they are doing is manufacturing consent and volunteers for a war that they initiated
“I don’t understand why women don’t just report it if it really happened.”
When I was 19, I reported mine. I had bruises. Hospital photos. Text messages of him apologizing the next morning. My friends drove me to the station because I could barely stop shaking. I thought evidence would make it simple. I thought truth would be enough.
Months later, I was the one on trial. His lawyer printed my Instagram photos and held them up in court. Asked why I wore crop tops. Asked why I drank that night. Asked why I didn’t scream louder. He replayed my police interview and pointed out every time I hesitated, every time I cried, every time my timeline wasn’t perfectly linear. “If it was traumatic,” he said, “why can’t she remember clearly?”
Sitting there while strangers debated my pain like it was a group project felt like being stripped again. My messages were projected on a screen. My body was described in detail. My character was picked apart like that was the real crime.
He walked out on bail. I walked out with panic attacks.
That’s why some women don’t report. Because even with bruises. Even with screenshots. Even when you do everything “right.” You still have to survive the assault twice, once in private, and once in public, just to maybe be believed.