Tim Barrus Blog

  1. Genetic Mutation in HIV: Tim Barrus in the New York Times

    I’m with anything that will take out HIV. That particular species should be burned crisper than toast, slashed, nuked, bombed, extinguished, executed, shot by drones, mutated out of existence, and squashed. I’m with eradication. But what about the rogue nation that keeps the virus around. Like us. But what about

  2. My Appalachia


  3. My Appalachia

    I do not know of a single individual in Appalachia who fishes or takes what is seen a food – not an experience – from either the woods or the water. It’s to eat, not to catch, and then release. It’s about survival. Picking wild herbs from the Appalachian hills…

  4. A SHIRT I WOULD NEVER WEAR

    BECAUSE WHENEVER I WEAR THIS SHIRT, MEAN AND CRUEL CHILDREN FROM OUTER SPACE THROW STICKS, USED TIRES, AND GIN BOTTLES AT ME AND I CANNOT WALK DOWN THE STREET. 

  5. Rabbit Hole

    Boys with HIV kill themselves at rates eight times the rate of typical adolescents who attempt suicide. Children who kill themselves, kill themselves for a reason. And society recoils. The institutions of society need for the people in that society to want to stay. Or at least pretend to want

  6. gas and groceries

    this is where we used to go to buy groceries like beef jerky on the gas credit card https://twitter.com/timbarrus

  7. ferris wheel of rust

    we were insomniacs who played on an abandoned ferris wheel whose pendulum in appalachian rain was one blind eye and sullen just like you and weary where your skin leaked raw and your bones in the dark were soup inside your nerves to be so high such as we were

  8. One Photographer

    Nothing but this foolishness.

  9. Gay in the KKK

    March thinks no one knows. We all know. We’ve always known. We’re all kinda over March and his Big Secret. When March wants to go get fucked, he heads off to Atlanta in his pickup. March thinks no one in Atlanta knows. They all know. They’re kinda over March as…

  10. On Being Abandoned

    I have never met a kid doing sex work who was not sexually abused, or abandoned in some way, and, likely, both. It was bone fucking cold. Michigan in the winter. I begged my parents for at least a sweater. That was when they sat me down, I had no