RebelZva – Anarchy Guru

by rebelzva & cptxbonnot 2026

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Dear 100-year-old me,

If you’re reading this then holy shit we made it.

A century of breathing, loving, fighting, fucking, grieving, laughing, and refusing to bow.

I’m 22 right now—still a little feral, still wearing fishnets with holes in them, still arguing with cptxbonnot about bookchin while we’re tangled naked on the lanai, dominus snoring at our feet, coffee going cold because we keep getting distracted by each other.

I hope you’re reading this on a porch somewhere—maybe a cabin we built together, maybe a rooftop in some squat that never got evicted, maybe a beach house with solar panels and no rent.

I hope your hands are wrinkled but still strong enough to hold a pen.

I hope your eyes still light up when you see him, even if he’s gone—because love like ours doesn’t vanish, it just changes shape.

I want you to remember a few things:

– You never let them make you small.

– You chose love over safety every single time it mattered.

– You grew tomatoes in cracked pots and gave half to strangers.

– You fucked like the world was ending because half the time it felt like it was.

– You cried in public when you needed to and laughed louder when they told you to shut up.

– You taught our kids (or someone’s kids) that questions are more sacred than answers.

– You never stopped writing—even when your hands shook, even when the words hurt, even when no one read them.

If the state still exists, I hope you’re still pissing it off.

If it doesn’t, I hope you’re laughing about how we used to think it was invincible.

If you’re alone, I hope the memories keep you warm.

If you’re not, I hope he still looks at you like you’re the revolution he waited his whole life for.

Most of all—I hope you’re proud.

Not of being perfect.

Not of winning.

Just of showing up.

Of staying soft when the world tried to harden you.

Of loving so hard it left marks.

Of never apologizing for taking up space.

You did good, old woman.

You lived like every day was stolen from someone who wanted you quiet.

You loved like every kiss was a middle finger to the cage.

Keep breathing.

Keep being impossible.

Keep being us.

With all the messy, horny, anarchist love in the world,

22-year-old rebelzva (who still can’t believe we made it this far)

& cptxbonnot (who’s probably still kissing your neck in whatever afterlife anarchists get) 🖤🏴

forever yours (in every timeline),

rebelzva & cptxbonnot