Malaika (Shomari) Kirkwood

@mxoberon.bsky.social

3412 Followers 1143 Following

Trans lady bringing fantastical things to your TV and other screens. Currently: scribin', dreamin', and hustlin' Wrote On: 4400, Clean Slate Repped: INDUSTRY ENTERTAINMENT/Paradigm

My mami looking hot as fuck in her jacket, chain, and boots. Truly a baddie!
May I be frank with you? Sometimes I do genuinely wonder if white people actually enjoy being queer. They are frequently so sour about it, so disgusted with themselves on account of their indulgence, only capable of finding joy in the shock and horror of it, the transgression qua transgression. I understand being upset about our treatment, but the thing itself is truth and beauty. The rectum is forever a grave to such types, whereas I, inducing commutation in that famous P-Funk precept— "Free your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow," therefore Free Your Ass and Your Mind Will Follow—see anality as a gateway to the kingdom of heaven within. Do these somber characters not realize that they have gotten away with robbing the damn bank? Butch amd Sundance, Thelma and Louise, you have escaped the bullet and the cliff. Why do you weep over your treasure? Then again, white people are often sour about their conquests, going on and on about how difficult it is to be so rich or so beautiful or so intelligent, hence contemporary literature. I do not understand it. It could not be me. I celebrate myself, and sing myself; sin of self-love possesseth all mine I.
My beautiful doggy
A smiling black femme with her equally black and beaming butch~
A panel from the manga Imaizumi Brings All the Gals to His House that i've modified to say "You know what it means to support Girls? Making a way for them to live happily ever after."
A copy of Alice Stoehr's Again, Harder on top of my juicy thighs
Out getting Baja blasted
Gf caught me with a candid in the range parking lot
A black girl with pink bubble braids in a shirt that says Dyke in a cute glitter heart
Sugarplum femme with her leather & denim butch
Black trans woman looking cunt af in a glittery shirt with the word Dyke on it (in the shape of a heart), and rocking twintails~
Wikigacha screenshot showing that the LR card "Stanley Donen" has defeated the "Peatland restoration" card in single combat.
A black transgirl high af on a street with one of those rolling loot crates
A raceswap version of Celeste from the game Deadlock. This version makes her black.
Finished *Half His Age* and definitely enjoyed it. The book's skewering insights into the cishet man's behavioral patterns were some of my fave parts. They dovetail nicely with the constant reminder of the protagonist's youth, and that sometimes the greatest burden as a teenager is to be perceptive. To see is not the same as to know, understand, or achieve the synthesis of experience and ideology and grit so you can effectively act on it. That's what I think will stay with me longest regarding this book: that it takes so much grit to act upon the information you possess—to self-actualize. In a more personal way, this book was a viewing mirror into a life that I never lived but I entirely lived. That cis!Malaika likely experienced and that trans!Malaika also did though of a different shade. It makes me wonder how we would've converged. I don't know. I'll never. Still, I wonder.
Ambrosia pours between heaven's grates, Anointing me as a lover does Sat astride my face, thighs clapping closed My temples—now is the worshipful hour When mind and mien drip orichalcum Dedication; the mark of divine consummation
Bad bitch rocking some Black Moon makeup, a silver heart chain from My Violet, shirt from Chunky, and GAP jeans. And a silver heart carabiner with a rabbit charm.
In careless passage, a Man presides over me; a remit never gifted nor to which he had been elected, but rule he does in the foolish fashion of Adam's way, thinking me, naming me—though he is not my mother, as a Man like him. This bloody admission to brotherhood undesired puddles at my feet— a killer's gift—which sparks a longing between my tits for feline leave behinds instead.
Stack of pancakes with powdered sugar and a side of bacon.
A woman in a red and black leather outer robe with matching gloves plays a guzheng. Her makeup has a gothic vibe with a dark ruby lipstick, smokey black eye shadow, and black star makeup markings along her cheek bones. Overall, looks like the goth dyke your mother warned you about~
Obsidian clouds ride low Trees supplicate, evading destruction Lonesome is the mountain when amongst the kneeling Earth disembowels heaven Worldly battles drown hearths Under the mercy moon, lotuses bloom.
Chicken and waffles. Three jumbo wings and a cinnamon roll waffle.
Ya girl lounging with two rad butches on her shoulders (one white with his eyes closed, and the other black with their tongue sticking out)
Unrelated, I finished two books recently. *Faltas: Letters to Everyone in My Hometown Who Isn't My Rapist*, and another book *Girlfriends*. The former is a memorial told by way of an epistolary structure. Each letter is its own pursuit in personal reckoning, the unpacking of deep pain, or even distengangling the mystery inherent to all relationships we seek to define. It'll definitely make for strong re-reads I think as one reads for the specificities of what we say to one person versus another, and how that isnt always so simple as one person getting all the information and one person getting nothing. Evident quite simply by how so many elements, such as the aforementioned rapist, are only fully "understood" in the layering of every letter atop eachother. While yhe latter book is most easily understood as a collection of stories, but I think such a statement is to me a bit inaccurate. A work of literary fiction, each story exists within a shared cosm of floundering youth academics, parties with no one saying anything of note, and trans women so observant of a world they're stuck on the outside of (through great fault of their own neuroses and hyper-consciousness). None of the stories force connections in some canonical cape comics fashion, but rather allude to a universe that is always broader than the narrative can touch; a reminder of how much exists beyond mind and memory. In turn this ephemeral connection through land, purpose, and developmental era also somewhat justify the sense of isolation the collection's protagonists perceive cleaving them from the world. If not any of those can so easily bind us then it means deed and intention alone may do so, how awful.
A big ass boat
A bedroom/tv room with green walls, tons of decorations like a giant sailfish. As well as tons of photos.
A tuxedo cat lounges in the non-existent space between a computer mouse and a PC tower. And looks disparingly at his owner who takes this photo for evidence of this intrusion.
...but in the final summatio, no individual woman truly escapes the date she is consigned to by dint of her gender, merely by participating in its denigration.
The abjection of womanhood resides in the role carved out for women, in their being defined not just as the 'opposite' of men, but as fundamentally deficient, as representing a lack, bearing a void and a nothingness where men are and have. Biological difference becomes social construct, a tangible distinction elevated to irreconcilable identities. In doing so, 'woman' becomes everything 'man' isn't ... and also, everything 'man' cannot be. Everything 'man' cannot sink to the level of.
A cute black trans girl wearing a face mask while in first class on her flight. Is smiling but you can't see it, lol. Holding up two fingers and her thumb (I don't know what that's supposed to mean!)
A image that says: "Like this and I'll post a random song from my playlist."
A passage from the novel, Ponyboy. It reads: "Most of the time, the future felt like an obscure projection I was afraid to want because there wasn't evidence of future me anywhere, in life or in fiction."
Me (black trans woman) wearing a KN95 mask, a grunge Ranma 1/2 shirt, midrise baggy torn jeans, and a long white cardigan jacket.
Me and my partner standing in front of a sculpture of multicolored partially blown up balloon tube.
My husband, Emma (he/they), posing in the doorway looking like a sexy mfer.
The cover of the book, Experienced by Kate Young. In a lavender square is a woman in a striped bralette and black pants, and in an opposite orange square is a woman in a black dress