bloom and grow forever.

as 2011 comes to a close, there are many things he wishes to leave behind. old feelings for girls he no longer has a chance with after how things ended, the amount of stoopid things he's said and done, the pressure to be what society sees him as gender-wise. he can see a year ahead with a much brighter future, with many good memories to be made within it.  everyone seems to be making new year's resolutions. he always seems to have a hard time coming up with any that he could stick to. this year he hasn't even gotten a chance to think of any ideas. he could try to come out completely and hope that things will change for the better, he could try to move out, he could try to fix things so there isn't that awkward tension between them whenever they end up in the same room. nothing seems quite right. fuck, it doesn't even seem like winter to him, let alone time for new year's to be here already.  another year come and gone and all he can say is that he is glad that things are moving forward and he will remember the good times for the rest of his life. the people who made his year will be the ones he will always remember as the good people. <3 <3 

now we don our gay apparel.

everything is so different, yet so much the same. those same faces he'll be seeing in the halls everyday, except he can't help the way he feels towards them. he just wants to hug them all at this point, take them all in his arms and love them forever. he wants to tell his friends how much they mean to him, how much he cares. he doesn't want it all to end. even though keeping it going is taking every ounce of energy just to get school done, with his crap grades. he's gotten to the point in the year where he's just about ready to be done with school but he loves everyone and just needs the actual learning shit in classes to stop. right now. before his brain explodes all over the floor so the janitor has to come clean up the mess. it's quite the disaster.  he doesn't even want to bother with post-secondary bullshit. he's completely happy doing crappy retail jobs until he can get out of there and make his way to a hippy confine. apparently that's not a good enough answer for grad transitions though. fuck that.  life makes him tired. maybe the key is to just figure out how to live, but not really live. it sounds fucked up, he knows, but it might just work. <3 <3 

we'll have hallowe'en on Christmas if you want to.

he's worn out and tired, he can't seem to sleep. his love has expired while waiting for her. fuck it, he sucks at rhymes. he still misses her, but now it's different. he knows things can't be the same so he has to learn to love her in a different way. he's learning to breathe as if nothing is wrong when her flesh is mere inches away from his. part of him still wants to collapse into her and melt, moulding them into one, but common sense gets the better of him and tells him to stay away, to keep from breaking his own heart yet again. he finds himself not knowing what to do with his hans because his fingers are not intertwined with hers. he's letting go out of survival, because he can't hold on any longer.  in the sunlight he sees the silhouette of this other girl, this girl he can't seem to keep his mind off. she is nothing like him, she makes him strive to be different than all the things he is. her voice of reason overpowers his morals, leading him astray. where his stubborn self has managed to withhold in the past, her presence forces him to conform, to try new things, to alter his opinions. he doesn't know quite what to make of it. he doesn't know quite what to make of all the feelings he's having for her. <3 <3 

we're crying in America.

he racks his brain for anything to be used as a new year's resolution while the day is quickly arriving. he has a few ideas consisting of things about girls and his gender presentation and such. mainly girls. the middle of winter is cold enough for him to revert back to wearing flannel to bed he's huddling for warmth in the covers, hoping some blast of warm air will come his way. all of a sudden it comes to him that he has to be the one to keep himself warmed up. everything he stands against seems to be what she lives for. he can't help it that the unattainableness of it all turns him on, that he can't seem to stop thinking about her even when she's beating him up both mentally and physically. her breathing is enough to keep him energized. none of this is worth the effort but he loves a chase more than anything, he needs to know all the answers. <3 <3 

all my makeup, it has come off.

he hates people, the crowds and selfishness of them all. they want all sorts of high-tech bullshit just to seem cool and rich and to say they have better things than their peers. in reality, none of them need any of the shit they buy on boxing day, they just buy more because it's cheaper on that bloody day. he can't stand the fact that there are so many people who do such things. he's lost all hope in humanity, many times over.  alone in bed, waiting for sleep to overcome him, he makes the best realizations. although by the time he wakes up they are all forgotten. it figures. so he's stuck in the same bloody position he was before all the shinanigans. the rain outside his opened window calms him, lulling him into a state of contentment with the world. none of it would be possible if it weren't for the rain, or the cars passing by all through the night. although the Christmas music has been finally turned off for the night, it still helps, knowing there are other people out there somewhere, people who have some of the same feelings as him. it's comforting. <3 <3

run right to my house.

all the presents in the world couldn't change the fact that he doesn't like the holidays. the haul of money and gift cards and candy won't change the face that it's just another year his family has gotten him to the point he needed to go to a different room and cry on christmas day. he used to pray for a family get together with no yelling all day, no throwing of dishes, no returned or broken presents because he can't seem to do it right. it's gotten a little better over the years, but he still can't get it right and he still can't stop the yelling. that's when he stopped believing some entity was out there looking out for him, just like there is no real Santa or tooth fairy or Easter bunny. they are just things we like to believe are out there somewhere to make ourselves feel a little better about life. in reality, life sucks, and we know this.  it hasn't quite set in that the season is even near, let alone arrived and partially gone. there is no mistletoe or snow or cups of eggnog for him. he waits for something that will never come and then blames himself for getting his hopes up again. the day draws to a close and he cuddles into bed with quippy gripped tightly to his chest.  filled with good food in what seems like the first time for a long time, he welcomes sleep, knowing that there will be more to eat the next day. for once, the fridge has food to eat other than just for snacks. the only good thing about the holiday, something he hasn't had for years. the first Christmas at someone's house instead of eating out for many years. enjoyable.  <3 <3   

all I want for Christmas is you.

the clock ticks midnight, the party-goers cheer up and down the road, the children are in their beds waiting for Santa to bring them presents galore. he sits alone, hoping that out in the world at least one person is out there thinking that this is a magical holiday, that that person had captured the holiday spirit. he's lost it himself long ago. he sees the presents under the tree and wonders why, why should he be blessed with consumer goods when he has all that he needs, when all he asked for was for acceptance. he watches the presents dwindle as try are given to family and friends. still, he does not believe himself to deserve so much. this Christmas his list is a little less physical. he wants the strength to finish coming out, he wants support in doing so, and he wants every other being struggling with doing so to have that same support.  when the cars on the road are farther between and there should be peace in the night air, he makes out the melodies of carol playing across the lane. they give him hope, they give a type of spirit. nothing could help him to try to rekindle his spirit for the holidays better, except for a dusting of pure white snow.  like any other highschooler, he tries to be on everyone's minds, sending out a mass text to his closest friends to tell them happy christmas. he only hopes to make someone's night, to be on someone's mind. he sends out his love hoping for a little in return. the he hates himself for being so vain. he hates what this holiday has been turned into by urban society. <3 <3 

beautiful like the rainbow.

he walks along the crowded corridor, feeling so alone in the world. not a single face can he recognize out of them all. he's gasping for air as he starts to panic. he pulls out his pocketwatch and reads 1:28, they were supposed to be there three minutes prior. the time keeps floating by until finally he lines up at 1:36 so as not to be late into the cinema. his heart skips a beat as the first arrives and he is no longer alone, then she turns to find seats and the panic in his chest resurfaces. he quickly makes his transaction before heading towards number 5. the girl taking tickets makes him uneasy, as if she's sizing him up. he grabs the 3D glasses and rushes through the door to find his friend. settling in, he realizes his glasses are broken, the arm snaps off, but it's an easy fix for a temporary situation and he doesn't want to face that girl again, so he doesn't budge. the two are alone amongst the patrons. he wants to tell her of so many things, terrified of her reactions. the others begin to arrive before he gathers up the courage. as a last minute thing he has put together little things for them all in the spirit of the holidays. she says those three word, I love you, and he can't understand why that has him grinning for so long. words should have no affect whatsoever on anything he does, yet her words have an almost... power over him. from behind his glasses he peeks over to the side every now and then during the movie. it was a great movie, no doubt about it, but he couldn't help but to multitask. he could go on about the movie for quite a time, gushing of it's brilliance, but as the credits begin to roll, he realizes he doesn't want that moment to end so quick. he considers changing everything in that one second, although in thinking he loses that chance. the lot of them head across the street to try their hand at bowling. shedding jackets, scarves, and loose objects in pockets, they begin. they go to choose names, keeping with a theme, which allows him to become Watson to her Sherlock. they laugh at the thought of Sherlock as a lesbian, rocking the dykey plaid, talk that it quickly distracted as he pulls out his pocketwatch yet again. a few rounds in and it is obvious that he will be winning this game without much difficulty, even as injured as he is. the time slips away and finally he faces the fact that he will have to head back to his solitude to spend the remainder of the day with the interwebs and watching milk. so he bids them all farewell as they leave him, alone once more.  <3 <3 

all I wanted was your love.

another day of just being, no particular purpose. he convinces himself of how someday things will be more eventful. he won't wake up with the knee pain of an elderly man with years of knee injuries. he waits to be able to carelessly frolic through fields. nothing seems to contain his hunger for life, for experience, for what every other child has known that he has not. for once he yearns to understand what normal is. it's all so complicated in his mind.  maybe it's best if he hides from all the world, everything that frightens him at glance.his tired joins creak away as they start to stir after such a long break. his body betraying him in yet another way and he can't seem to fix it.  nothing more can be said before it gets to him, all the crazy of the world. he's on the edge where there is a fine line between good and bad insanity. that line allows him to dip into the bad side briefly without causing a commotion. <3 <3 

don't say that you loved me.

he hates himself for the shit he feels. he manages to feel all the emotions at once, feel what he feels for everyone all at one time. it's draining him, he needs a break.  every time he tries to do anything he gets stopped by the fact that there's a girl behind every thought, a girl he'd love to get behind. he can't even control himself, he's tried to tell himself no, this one's out of bounds. he won't listen. so then he's off trying to be okay every time she mentions the many, many celebrity men that she currently has crushes on. the thing they almost all seem to have in common is the slightly bearish qualities. he doesn't come close to even scraping that category. he wishes he could just be enough for her. there is no way to tell exactly where they stand when sometimes the sexual tension is so high it's impossible that they aren't attached at the face, while other times it's as if they can barely manage to be friends. he's trying to make it as obvious as possible, not that she seems to be noticing at all. he can't seem to get over the fact that British tv and British films are so much better than anything North America dares to produce. it could be the way he rates it, being pretty British most of the time.  <3 <3 

I gave you my heart.

fuck. he loves everything about the states and how it isn't all girls that make him feel things he doesn't know if he wants to feel or playing him and how thinks are cheaper but portion sizes for food are huge. he loves how no one knows his name, how they wouldn't notice if he just dropped from the crowd. he can't wait to be free.  warm things are warm. he likes warm in the winter. layers are sexy, pocketwatches are sexy, dapper things are sexy. he wishes he could be considered that type of sexy. instead he will just pretend he doesn't hate his life aside from all the fuzzy, awkward things in it.  he's falling, breaking into the slumber and he can't fix it at all.  <3 <3 

and that's why I love you.

he can't seem to contain his need to shy away from human contact much longer. day one of not leaving the house to do anything. just spend the day reading, drinking tea, eating cookies, on interwebs, and watching doctor who. until his mother comes along and makes him watch shit tv. he can't seem to understand how the majority of north American tv came to be so much less entertaining that British tv. then again, the British always do it better. it's hard to even compare most of the time.  in the morning he has to deal with the shit that is going shopping in the states. with family. for fucking grad dresses. there is nothing he wouldn't rather do than be caught up in that shinanigans. he tries to make the best of it even though he knows it's like selling his soul to the devil. the devil in control of enforcing birth-assigned gender stereotypes. all he can do is to hang on and hope for the best.  the forever alone thing is starting to sink in for him. he doesn't think that it'll be the part that kills him anymore. he can enjoy living on his own with his many pets that are sure to come of all sorts of species.  <3 <3 

I'm dying to be with you.

he can't help but to notice all the steps to becoming more of a dork he has taken for her. it's a little unsettling, how one girl has changed so much in his life in such a short amount of time. he wants to know what would've happened without her, but at the same time he never wants to let her out of his sight. there are entire arguments, arguments he has made himself to why there is no way in hell they could ever work. there's just something inside him that wants to give it a chance to defeat all the odds. he wants the chance to sort through the mess of feelings and have someone tell him if they're real or not.  the winter is creeping in on him and the only source of warmth seems to be the sleep he keeps fighting off. he doesn't want to miss a thing, yet the season is just trying to fuck him over. he swears it to be so. the cold of the night takes over and he tries to succumb to the thresholds of rest, much to the dismay of his wondering mind. nothing more can be done to prevent the takeover. he keeps imagining mistletoe. he's never really had a proper mistletoe kiss. he doesn't remember having any at all, although he's bot completely certain if that is due to repressing memories or just the fact it never happened. he waits for a girl to change that all. now of only there actually was some mistletoe... <3 <3 

tell me more, tell me more.

the same way his heart keeps pounding, his mind still churns, and his lungs still breathe, he can't stop thinking of her. he tries not to be a bit of an Internet stalker, but he fails. he can't help himself from needing to have some contact with her as much as possible. he can't keep his emotions from doing all sorts of fucked up things that he doesn't want them to.  the winter break is supposed to be some amazing time filled with only lazy days and tea and warm, fuzzy things. he's been waiting so long to just sit back on the computer and catch up on all his shows. although it feels like a lie, he is just as busy as ever and breaks don't seem to exist. they never did, they never will.  just a few minutes and it will be only one week till Christmas. where does the time go? he tries to hold on so as not to miss it all. turns out that that doesn't work, who knew? he's as ready as he'll ever be. that doesn't say much considering he'll never be ready. tough shizz. all he can do is take in the world, hope for some beautiful spark to allow for the best of inspiration.  <3 <3 

who knew?

he knew that something like this would happen, the feeling of electricity shooting all the way through his body between the girls, the girls onscreen, and the adorable gay subtext. he's still floating on the high it gave him. he can't wait for the next one. he could watch this one over and over just to pay tribute to the beauty of the work.  last minute song changes are scary. like, super fucking scary. he can't sing the range he wishes he could. fuck, with his voice he can't get nearly low enough to feel comfortable in his skin. as least the drag made people see him as a man for once. not just a boy, but a man. nothing beats the feeling of when people can see past the shit of the physical sex. she asks him to hold her, more like commands him to do so. he does so, but that just doesn't seem to be enough to keep her. the moment is gone and he's left wondering if it ever really happened. he could relive it for eternity. <3 <3 

the night of the living dead.

he can't sleep, although he knows he isn't going to want to get out of bed in the morning. fuck, he isn't going to even want to open his eyes to get up. there's no way in hell he'd manage to get there for making pancakes. he'll just try to make the most of it and not freak the fuck out about singing. he hates singing infront of crowds, why did he sign on to do this?? at least it's all almost over.  so far it hasn't set in really that he doesn't have to do school stuff (besides english shit) for two weeks. he should be celebrating and all sorts of stuff, but he can't even recognize what's going on because of the amount of stress he has and the lack of sleeping in. not to mention, being hungry all the fucking time.  one last day to get through, really just a few hours at the most. then it's all over for now. he can't wait for everything to slow down, for it all to be done for good. he knows he'll miss the people, but he couldn't be happier to get rid of the idiotic system.  <3 <3 

why do I need you at all?

he feels mistreated, unloved, under-appreciated. the worst part is that it's the people he actually cares about, the ones he calls his home, that are making him feel this way. he wishes he could just make everything alright again so that it was all easy for them to all get along. he puts in so much effort trying to keep in contact, trying to keep friendships alive. it just gets so hard when he seems to be the only one putting in the effort.  he's done, mentally, physically, psychologically. the thing is, he just can't do it anymore. everything around him seems to be tearing him down, and he waits for the signal that no one's looking, hoping to find a chance when he can pull the blade across his skin in a guilty pleasure. the knife has missed him, just as he has missed it.  he's being forced to leave behind the only life he's ever loved, leave it in replacement for the stiff, uneasy life he had been stuck in at uncomfortable angles. he wants to take his revenge. so badly. but he needs to keep his cool <3 <3 

images of broken light.

he closes his eyes, opens his heart, and tries to let the present take control instead of the past. he tries, he really fucking tries, but at the end of the day all he has to show for it is a bruised heart and no motivation. he tries to let the new take over the mental space he has thinking about the past, but it shoots him down like a bird in the sky, clinging on for those last few seconds before death. he starts to cry out for help, for an answer to the unspoken questions racking his brain. there is always at least once last drop of unspoken conversation in the past, the drop that he's not willing to let go of all that easily. he just can't do it much longer. each last drop left hanging becomes a piece of himself given away until there is nothing. nothing to show for it all. he rather enjoys a challenge, even if it is the only thing keeping him interested. although he hopes that there is some way that it is something more than just another meaningless chase. he's begging to be shot before he scan embarrass himself much more. everything just seems to be conspiring to male his emotions do things that he doesn't know how to control, doesn't even know what they are. emotions are piling up one on top of another to the point he can't even seem to see straight. not that anything in his life could be described as straight.  <3 <3 

put on a little makeup.

every time he thinks he's on top of everything and can relax a little, his life decides to remind him at the very last moment that there's another pile of things to be done that he's completely forgotten about. he forgets a lot. it's difficult not to with the amount of things he's supposed to remember. he's beginning to realize why people actually do use their agendas. maybe he should be trying to make it a habit of his, maybe not.  the time just keeps on falling away, leaving him to fend for himself. he's waiting for things to change, for something magical to happen so that he can finally understand a little bit about life.  nothing beats being an oblivious to the things to come. it's the only way that he can ever actually get to sleep without a highly exhausting pill every day.  <3 <3 

we're knocking on heaven's door.

he almost feels as if he is living a lie. he lives amongst the geeks, the dorks, the socially awkward. he shares their awkwardness and tendencies to not know how to deal with things, but he doesn't know the first thing about how to be them. he never watched the same shows growing up, never had access to all the characters and memories they did. he was brainwashed into thinking there was not much other than top 40 music, chick flicks, barbies, and public library books. the closest thing to a super hero comic book he's ever owned was a powerpuff girls book. his friends are going to see movies of marvel brought to the screen, loving every moment of their childhoods coming alive while he's just trying to get his homework done. they're managing to juggle about 10 dorky tv shows while he's lucky if he can catch glee, 2 broke girls, and lost girl. somehow they have time to watch hundreds of exciting movies when they come out while he's only even heard of a few of them. the worst part is that it's not even because he has more of a life, because he doesn't, but because he has so little access to the world outside. beyond his place of residence and school and work he really doesn't go anywhere. even when he does it is just for a tiny break before going back to the emotional wreck of an overprotective home. the place that has forced him into being socially stunted.  the claws needs to be taken out of his skin, he needs to be let go a little and left to breathe so that he can manage to make it through at least these next few months. he can make it, if he's left alone to let his wounds heal before being punctured all over again. <3 <3 

my life is brilliant.

cookie comas happen. every holiday they head into burkeville, the dork eats too many cookies and ends up lying down and saying crazy shit because she can't control herself. he's a little bit afraid of the next holiday they decide to head over. honestly, he feels almost like a babysitter, except for the fact that he absolutely loves that house and the family. he could see himself managing to get along with parents like that. those silly Italians. Christmas is right around the corner, he doesn't quite know if he's even the least bit excited. he knows that even if he tries to convince his family not to get him anything they won't listen and they'll get him a bunch of girly crap that he has absolutely no use for. the best he can hope for is for them to try to play by his anti-consumerist rule and try to give him money instead. that way he can head off thrifting and figure out a new wardrobe. although now that memories has closed down he doesn't know if it's worth it anymore. no more chilling and talking to the girls about how much Justin bieber is a disgrace to music.. no more shoes for $2. maybe he'll get lucky and another thrift store will open up so that he can basically live there. even value village is getting to be too... not thrift storey.  after the holiday season seems to be the only time he ever really has any money to spend on clothes and such, he's kind of really looking forward to it this year. he can't wait to get rid of some of his gross old stuff. or at least the stuff he hasn't worn in ages. <3 <3 

just slip me on.

for some reason he is managing to not be doing his homework that he knows he needs to do. he enjoys having weekends to just fuck around and get shit done at the last second. sleep mostly, with the lack of any in the school week. it makes for an interesting life. one week left until the break. he's celebrating the fact that it's almost over, almost time to sit back and let the shitty holiday wash over him. he should be getting started on bracelets and making little things for people, but he's not even sure he wants to do that. then there's all sorts of crazy things to be getting a couple friends for their birthdays which are coming up soon.  if only the girls were plentiful and the distance nonexistent. then maybe he would be able to carry out dreams he's been holding in, show how much he actually cares.  <3 <3 

we take a walk.

in the shower, while reviewing the day, a thought pops into his head, Jesus was the original hipster. quite honestly, he could go on about how Jesus believed in god and all sorts of other things before they were cool, plus he had a total hipster beard. he had a hipster beard before hipsters were even invented! more than anything he's just been amusing himself with random insertions of Jesus into everything he can manage to. the only entertainment he can comprehend at this point. his mother has started to talk about getting lawyers to get child support from his 'father' yet again. every time she gets so worked up over it, but it never happens because the stoopid fuck can't be bothered to show his face. he's a little bit ashamed to be related to that. more than a little bit. he's not quite sure what to do about dry grad. he knows that the students don't overly like it, but he only really dislikes it because his mother is in charge of it and she's forcing him to be involved. if he had the choice about it all he might actually think it a good idea. he was fine with the idea before, when he was at SDSS and it was expected. although now there is a bigger population that doesn't see the point and it makes him stop and think. mainly having one of his closest friends so blatantly opposed to the idea. he doesn't quite know what to do to make her stop hating on it so hard, it's hard to even pretend to enjoy the whole thing when his heart is being pulled to say it is the worst idea ever. his heart is just being pulled to pieces by everything that his mind is trying to reason through. reasoning just isn't working for him anymore, he might just have to go with what his heart says and hope for the best. <3 <3 

what day is it?

he's so ready to be done, to take a break, to just fucking chill out. just over a week and he'll be able to calm down a little. so much has been happening that he can't seem to figure out if things have happened or if they're still coming. the year has gone by so quickly that nothing ever seems the same. he never feels fully prepared for anything that is ever happening around.  he longs for the days where he doesn't have to organize anything, doesn't have to be a driving force to get people to get shit done. he needs to get away from it all. he's counting down the days to the holidays, not because he really celebrates, but because it means time for himself for once. it's a nice change from how thing used to be. nothing would be better. as much as his eyes would love to glaze over and just sleep, his mind has so many  things clouding, he could pretend to be gone. he needs to get shit together so he ca stay up later than just to talk to some bitches on Facebook.  pretty soon it'll be hell trying to stay uprighted in class. the tired is drooping into his life in eddy aspect, he's neglected to do homework partially because of the tired. <3 <3 

fucking perfect.

by the time the school day is over, even on a Tuesday, he is dead tired. there is no energy left to feed on. everything is shit. he welcomes back the decrease in his sanity. everything is funny even when it isn't supposed to be at all. things seem like great ideas at the time, but really aren't all.  he's tempted to curl up on the couch like a cat, hoping for someone in the morning. he'll keep hoping that some people with show up when he needs them the very most. his brain doesn't seen to be able to  find any connections to the real works. attention all fucking tired, this is time for sleep <3 <3  

my love affair with everything.

he stays up at night waiting, running his fingers through his too soft hair. he waits for the day he can get out of there and let that mop on his head grow knotty, grow it out like a good girl and then ruin that all by forming the little dreads he's been in love with for almost his entire life. he can't wait until no one can give him disapproving looks when he struts around the house in boxers and fuzzy legs. he can't wait any longer for those moments. then he realizes how petty it all is, he's worried about appearance and gendered pronouns while small children are dying because of the horrible living conditions. their injustices are greater than his own and he hopes that somehow he can make a difference. he asks about the weekend, only really listening when it gets to the events that he would give his heart for. he tries to focus on other things, but it always goes back to those same old moments. the moments he would be living out his second life for.  he sees conversations, girls telling each other that only a good Christian boy would be worthy of dating. but he isn't a "good Christian boy" and he never will be. is he not worthy of love? he may not believe there is a god still looking over us all today, but he believes in treating a girl right, is that not enough? in his heart he knows that the more he tries to rekindle the past, the friends he's made through church youth groups, it will never work out. as soon as they know what he is they distance themselves, even the ones he's know from a very young age. he hopes they will try to accept him, let him join in on songs about things he can relate to the rest of the world. for some reason singing for organized religion is the only time where he feels like it's worth it all, all the conflictions religion has put him through in the past.  all the fear. he hides from the people surrounding him, withdrawing, pleading with them to both help him and ignore his plee. he doesn't quite know what he wants from them, only that he needs them in some way. he hopes they'll be able to stick around the shot he puts them through. <3 <3 

every day I see my dream.

he's fighting a war with himself, with his body. he hates the way people notice how skinny he really is when he's forced to wear tighter clothes, he hates the way he has curves in all the wrong places when he looks in the mirror. he hates the bulge where his abs would be if he produced enough testosterone to build muscle mass without a lifetime of dedication, it reminds him every day that his body was designed for children, it reminds him of that moment when he was completely sure he was just months away from a child of his own and he'd named it and loved it and started to talk to it. that bulge reminds him that even though his anatomy tell him he should carry children, because of how skinny he is, he fails even at that. the bulge reminds him that any time he wants to stand up and be a man, no one will take him seriously. then there's the boney ribs that jut out behind a thin layer of veins and skin. he wishes he could gain weight, gain it without having all the fat go directly to areas that make his body appear more feminine. every day he curses the body that he inhabits, wondering why it's so far from anything he could possibly be comfortable in.  in a way he's starving himself, telling his mother he's not hungry when his stomach feels like it's beginning to eat itself, but at the same time he's bingeing every so often. the media tells him his body's not good enough to be a girl, his body's not good enough to be a boy. he can't help but to feel worthless. he tries to avoid mirrors when ever they are not completely necessary. they only bring the pain. pain that only heavily lined eyes and painted on lips can fix. his control, his expression. he tries to remember the last time he was completely at peace with himself. his mind comes back with a no results picture flashing over and over in his head. he misses the days when he was a young child, when girls and boys all looked about the same, before the drama, before the judgement, before anything mattered. he misses when the worst thing that could happen was having to go home early from the playground, or being the first one done snack and watching everyone else finish.  most of all he misses when he was young enough to not realize his body implied that he was a girl. he misses just hanging out with the boys in the sandbox, playing with tonka trucks, chasing girls with worms and spiders. he misses when the scariest thing was trying to skip two bars on the monkey bars. he misses when things were simple.  <3 <3 

I'm a son of a bitch.

another weekend where he has so much to get done and no time to do it. he should've done homework, but there wasn't a spare moment to get any of it done. he could just not have all the sleep, but then he knows he won't make it through the week to come. two weeks until the winter break, it's the only thing keeping him going at this point. if there wasn't the wind down of school for now he has no clue how he'd manage to keep his head above the workload. only one test and one quest (quiz test) left before school's out. plus an in-class essay. he really should get started on the preparing for all that, but he can't manage to get a moment to even get his mind to the right place. the homework he has in the mean time isn't helping at all. he knows that he really should try and put some effort into some of the stuff he's supposed to have done, but he can't seem to bother. even with law, his favorite subject.  he just begins to realize that there's less than a month left of the year. time has gone by so quickly. he can't even seem to wrap his head around anything that's happened since summer. it almost feels like his personal life has been on pause since then, he's stuck with the emotions he felt then, he can't seem to have any room in his life to do anything but schoolwork. maybe winter break will give him a chance to breathe a little and figure his shit out. in less than 7 months he'll be graduating, in about 9 months he'll be starting post-secondary. he doesn't even know how to comprehend any of this. it's almost like the last year and a half hasn't been real because of the moving and living between two worlds. he wishes he could wake up and just have things make a little more sense.  every time he tries to live a little, have a little bit of untamed happiness, the world seems to tell that things are going well and hand him a pile of things to ruin the good times. he wishes that for once things wouldn't blow up in his face every time he tries to delay them for a moment. one weekend to not worry about the piles of work to be done would be nice. sleeping without having to be up in what seems like just a couple hours would be a great feeling. he puts his hopes and dreams on hold and tries to do what a good child should, no matter how much it kills him to be pushed into a girl box in that process.  <3 <3 

and I ain't afraid to show it.

he wants to just keep on partying for the rest of the year. really, dancing with that many girls in tiny dresses is the greatest time ever. makes wearing a dress bearable for the night. but the shoes had to go pretty quick. he enjoys dancing too much for heels. shoes in general, actually. slow dancing with girls feels so right. he almost can't believe he ever tried to hide away from himself. maybe straight parties can be almost as fun a gay parties. not quite, but almost. so long to wait until boat cruise, he doesn't know of he can wait that long. the only good part of it being so far away is that he can grow his hair to a length where he can actually do something with it. maybe even put it up so that it's not so hot.  plus that gives him a chance to go shopping for 0g things when he goes down to Ashland. not to mention that he might be getting a bunch of grade 12s to come with him. party year. that would honestly make the year so much better. adventures in Ashland no matter who they're with would be spectacular.  for now he's tired; both mentally and physically.  after 6 hours of party he can't seem to stop from feeling it in every particle of his being. feet hurt, legs hurt, back hurts, shoulders hurt, neck hurts, and head hurts. good thing he's getting a hot stone massage on Sunday afternoon. too bad it wasn't tomorrow. or before his work. but he'll survive somehow, no matter how much it hurts right now. another two weeks of school left before he's free for the winter break. he can't wait to go back to the schedule of not actually having school. it's always great when that happens. means more sleeping, and cuddling into warm and soft things. if only everything were as easy as just lazing around to just do what he wants to do. <3 <3  

no one saying stop that.

another night on the stage and he starts to feel right at home. too bad it's the last night for this play. he tries to keep his eyes opened, but the pull of gravity is winning. so much work has come down to this. he's done and he doesn't know what to do with the spare time. then he remembers the homework he's been neglecting. he remembers the reality where everything has to get done. he's hoping that something will happen, that life will get better, that assholes will realize the dumbasses they are being. he wishes assholes didn't have the right to just do what they please in the way they speak to him. he wishes just once to be seen as a boy first, to let his emotions control things without effort. he tries to get shit together..  so he goes back to the world where everyone loves him, wear dreams come true. <3 <3 

strong enough to cry.

stage highs are fucking great. honestly, nothing in the world could beat that. shit actually pulled together in time. only one more night and he can go ahead and forget all those bullshit lines. almost counting down the minutes.  he tries to get along with people in the drama department. he tries not to judge them based on the fact that most of them haven't seen any of his favorite musicals, they all only have a shred of acting talent, and they are complete dicks for the most part. he tries to see the good in them, letting old fights wash away. there are even some of them that he doesn't mind sitting down and having actual conversations with. but then there are others that just push him over the edge repeatedly. the ones that can't seem to understand boundaries, can't respect the fact that he has no interest in boys. sometimes he wants to shove those assholes down flights of stairs. at the end of the day, people he thought he hated before he finds sticking up for him while those he thought he got along with turn out to be nowhere near the person he thought they were.  with winter holiday coming closer and closer, he feels more of a shove to share with his friends, let them know what he is. he doesn't know how to tell them. he could tell them all at once, or he could share it with each person in a way that seems more personal. personal sounds good, although he doesn't want anyone to feel left out. plus he's too fucking tired to do much.  another month seems to be upon the world. he wishes the month were one that he cared about. the wishes he could look out and just see the beauty of winter without feeling the hatred of his family anymore. he wants to be doing something that entails love and escape. only the hardest part of the man can be put in many angles.  <3 <3 

I hope you know.

there's only so much that he can feel at once, yet emotions try to sneak up on him from all fucking angles. honestly, emotions can just fuck off now. any time soon. but they're here, he's pretty sure shit's not gunna change easily. he never knew that he could feel so much all at the same time, it's freaking him out a little bit. he doesn't know which part of what his gut says he should go with anymore. there's so many different directions his life could go in from here... well a few anyways (especially since for almost fucking everything he needs a C or C+ in math.) fucking summer school only gave him a C-. besides school/ career wise he has options in all sorts of things though. the main thing that confuses him these days is girls. he has no clue how to read them, half the time he doesn't even know where he stands with them or if they're slightly interested even if they're being painfully obvious. the only way he understands is if they actually say it or if they kiss him. he's kind of the most oblivious person in the world when it comes to understanding girls, but whatever.  he started reading a blog he followed a long time ago but never gets a chance to actually read. it's kind of the best thing ever. not only is the blogger a 20-year-old trans*man prostitute, but he blogs in detail about his encounters. it's almost like porn. gay, trans*y porn. except a little classier than that. it's completely beautiful and he could spend the rest of his life reading and not feel the least bit like he was wasting any time. the only problem is the fact that it makes him want to present male and be a manly top. he isn't quite sure what about trans*men and women he finds so beautiful, but he doesn't know how to even compare that beauty to cispeople. he almost wants to just try being full out trans* just so he can feel beautiful like that for once. although he knows that it would kill him to misrepresent his gender like that, the male pronouns would make his entire existence more bearable for a while. it's all so complicated.  he really doesn't even know what to say when people ask what he means by queer anymore. yes, he would have sex with any gender or sex. no, he doesn't not have any physical attraction to the majority of cis-males. yes, he loves girls and trans*girls and trans*men to pieces. no, he cannot manage to develop any type of non-plutonic emotional relationship with men. polysexual? gynosexual? is there even a word for it? the not knowing is driving him crazy.  and then there's the confusion that is gender. agendered apparently isn't hard enough, so why not add in the love for crossdressing and cross-crossdressing. he can be a drag queen or a drag king. he enjoys the idea of male, but he knows that he couldn't feel okay identifying as binary. so he just says asexual. it's easier that way. <3 <3   

I know that you saw me.

it's taken literally a day to make his iPod his home and to make it organized the way he wants with all the gay. plus a bit of his music on there. not even near how much he needs to get on to call it his iPod, but enough to make it listenable. he needs to figure out downloading music free so that he can get the music he's been wanting for forever to have at his fingertips. Christmas break might be dedicated to completing his music collection. just maybe. most likely. if he's lucky he'll get a little room cleaning done. he's going to need to clean a bunch of crap out of his room if he's going to be moving again any time in the next year. so much crap he hasn't even looked at in eons. he's pretty okay with the face that almost half of his iPod is filled with Beatles (and there's over 500 songs on it so far.) life is pretty good right now. he might just be okay because he's having a giant dose of what society calls happiness. it's sad that so much is rested in material possessions in this day and age, but there's no point trying to argue it. just admire the people who manage to stay away from it all and live their lives in a more pure way. he wishes he could be more like them, but he's fallen victim to everything bad in the world, he's become just another person following the crowd in this world. one day he will break free, one day all of this will be something to laugh at. until then he will slowly spiral downwards to becoming closer and closer to crossing the "hipster" line. he shudders at the thought of becoming almost what could be called a hipster, he's never been the type to overly label things.  the hardest part is trying to not mass-message girls, bombarding them with little notes saying why they're special, trying to fix broken memories of shit that happened so long ago that it seems irrelevant that they're still mad at him, trying to win them over. he knows when he says girls he means a small group that he's constantly thinking about, but in order to not seem over-eager he tells himself it's girls in general. he hasn't figured out how to actually lie to himself and believe it.  for the first time he said it out loud to other people. agendered. then the question start pouring in, apparently because people don't get the concept of there being anything but 'boys' and 'girls'. it kind of kills him to hear questions like, so are you a girl or a boy? after he just finished saying that he does not feel ANY binary gender, or any gender at all. he is that grey area in gender that is not male or female. no one seems to understand what that actually means though, so shit will be a lot harder than he ever thought. teaching the unwilling is about as productive as killing the dead. <3 <3  

I'm sorry I'm coming home.

he missed having work to make his life seem a little more complete. his first shift in a month or so and he loves every moment of it. every time that he gets away from his mother in the outside world it's beautiful. he missed the independence of going to work and being able to do things without thinking about what consequences his mother would have for him not following every single unspoken rule she has. being able to go out and breathe and earn some money and such is a fucking great feeling. makes him want to go out and do things that she won't really know about when she's not looking so he can live a real life. he's still needing a jacket for winter formal and it's less than a week away. fuck, he needs to get makeup and stuff too. if he can get shit together so that he can make it out to the mall before dress rehearsal and pick up a few things that would make his entire existence so much easier.  new technology. it makes him all happy and giddy. really, it's a horrible thing. he'd become addicted to everything that is technology and the new era of life. he's been drawn farther and farther from what he can call a life he can respect. no matter how much he tries to stay that same person he's been working towards becoming, the world likes to fuck over his attempts so that he ends up being someone that is the complete opposite of anything he'll ever want to be. EVER. so he burns more incense and prays to cat that something will change, something will give him the courage to repent from the bullshit of  the society and take a different view on everything no matter how hard it is. then there's school, the place where those bullshit ideas are being hammered into his head like there is no other existence of ideas besides that. it actually really saddens him. on the other hand, he loves being able to do thugs with the simple touch of a fingertip to a screen. he loves how easy contact has become, how he never has to really talk to people when it makes him anxious. he thanks humanity for such inventions, even though they go against so many things he stands for. the conflictions in his head just confuse him to pieces.. <3 <3 

I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow.

of all the places in the world, he knows that the only country he can live with being anywhere in it would be India. the people there are peaceful and caring and everything they do is fueled by their love for people. he can live in this way. he could spend the rest of his days looking out over the people, letting the beautiful parts of humanity wash up over him. he wants to give himself over completely to this love for everything. for now he feels to limited by the corrupt society of an uncaring first world country. the only way he feels he can reach a spiritual awakening composed completely of truth and love is to get away from the industry and the bright lights and capitalist culture. to reach peace he needs to get away and work on something meaningful, although he doesn't know what that is yet. it could be art or music or a story or poetry or creating something completely new in every way. he needs to find his way to express love for everything.

he's trapped in this society, being drawn in by the greed and the hate. he's learning to survive only because of technology and to judge those around him based on everything they are instead of accepting them for those same reasons. while there are places in the world where he could love everyone equally. this society tells him he can only hold that love for one person at a time. already that is faltering, he's loving so many at once, but he has yet to be in love with more than one... ever. so the state of his heart is in tatters while the state of his mind is in confusion. he'll keep on wishing after lost shots of being in love, lusting after possibilities of what could have been given the time. what is coming towards him has emotions just as delicate as every time he's been hurt by another love. he wears those scars as battle wounds, his flesh burns with the physical word 'love' itself, burning right below the surface.

<3 <3

living is easy with eyes closed.

he's slipping. naps are taking over his friendly evenings all the time after school. with winter formal next friday he has no clue how he'll manage to stay awake that long. having another shift at work will make sure he'll have his employee discount again, but even coffee can only do so much. he's hoping the dancing with everyone will do the trick. he doesn't know who's all even going to the afterparty, so he might only have to stay up till shortly after 10pm.

seriously, he has been taken over by naps, though. he didn't even mean to, but he slept from 4.30- around 10pm only waking up for dinner in that time. he's still hungry being up again. he might try going to sleep before midnight more regularly, not that he knows if that will help at all. it could just be all the school that's killing him, having five academic classes at a grade 12 level and all. at least he only has homework in four of these subjects, and two of these subjects it's stuff for preparing for assignments in class, although there is a project in that fifth subject. another weekend where he has something from every subject to at least work on a little. so much for long weekend.

apparently his ipod is here, just has to pick it up from his great aunt so that he can start using it. he hates himself for how much he'll be relying on that one piece of technology again, although he knows it will make his entire existence so much more simple and organized. the past month without having an ipod for internet access has been slightly torturous in the way that there have been so many steps just to get anything done on the internet. all that will be over soon once he gets his ipod hooked up and working.

<3 <3

come over, come over.

his mind is confused, it's telling him so many things he doesn't know how to deal with. he doesn't want to feel like that for people who he needs around. he needs to stop finding gay men extremely attractive, it's killing him. he wishes he could have the looks they do.

at this point he doesn't know what to call his sexuality anymore, it's pretty fluid and depending on his mood, although he likes girls all the time. he's beating himself mentally to stop from jumping every girl he feels the least bit comfortable around to show them they're beautiful. he thinks it's more wanting to feel something other than the same old empty things he feels every day spent alone, untouched, unloved. even mustering up the energy to keep doing what he's doing seems to be too much to get anywhere with. life doesn't seem to be much in his favour at all these days. it's all breaking him down at every spare moment.

he gets obsessive. every little challenge people throw at him he has to try again and again until he gets it right. there are two games friends have challenged him to get anywhere close to finishing on. he could spend all winter break trying to beat their highest levels and such. could be fucking interesting. he needs something to go completely obsessive over so that things won't seem so bad in the real world.

the world seems like a totally different place than it was even a year ago, his life has changed so much. in some ways he wishes he could go back to them, in others he doesn't even want to remember how much of a dumbass he really was not that long ago.

<3 <3

nothing changes.

his thoughts always lead back to girls. he can't seem to forget things, having them the way they are right now, the way they've been for almost a year. he's crumbling away trying to spread himself over so that no one else sees. the layer's getting thinner and thinner, crumbling away, falling, and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold it together. he doesn't remember the last time he cried over something in his own life hurting. he feels numb. nothing can escape the numb feeling. he thinks she broke him. having someone start to pick up the pieces just to throw them all down again doesn't help.

he needs to just get away from the daily life and go crazy, have a bro day, get completely caught up in the world so that his mind can try to keep away from girls. anything to keep him busy enough to have his mind on something, anything else. he's waiting for the chance, but winter formal sees to be the only shot. although he doesn't trust most of the grads at him school. other than the people he talks to regularly, he doesn't care much for his grad class at all. it's almost funny, except they're all sluts and bitches who think they're better then they really are. makes him in even more of a hurry to get the fuck out of there as soon as he fucking can.

he really wants to write a message to everyone who made an impact in his highschool life because SDSS people won't see his grad write-up, and there isn't even close to enough room for that using all the grads' space. he could go on for forever with them all, but he will try to keep it to a paragraph or two each person. might need to get started now if he's going to get it all done by grad.

<3 <3

she rings my bell.

he's fighting so hard to go reeling back up to feelings so long ago. all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and start sobbing. instead he makes an idiot out of himself, with the jokes and the innuendos. it's the only way he knows, make them laugh, no matter what the expense, so that the tears behind his eyes don't fall.

as the year progresses he begins to feel more and more alone. he's losing connections with everyone who isn't in his classes or groups, even people in his school he only sees once a week. that hurts more than anything else. it's like he's pushing away those who mean the most to him, pushing away those he needs the most. he wants to reach out, grab them, and hold them close for a long, long time. he doesn't want them to ever leave his life but they're slipping through his fingertips.

so many times he's tried to convince himself that things will turn out, he's done trying to believe. he realizes he'll always be stuck between these two worlds so that he never quite fits anywhere and no one really cares about him at all. that feeling he's kept feeling since grade 4 and his first school move. every day away this time it gets harder, unlike every other time where every day made things a little easier. he just wants to be back to a place where he actually belongs. he doesn't even know what's going on anymore in life because he can't keep enough of a hold on reality to see what the world is doing, he's reached a sub-human state where life is not even thought of.

everything around him tires him out these days. the only escape from the exhaustion he feels is the many naps he has become accustomed to taking over the last couple weeks. the full shine of gr.12 is beginning and he's drowning a little bit. one day at a time he tells himself so that he has the chance of making it through.

<3 <3

falling, yes I am falling.

his first competitive-structured improv performance and he manages to realize he rather enjoys the whole thing after all. being on stage brings a new energy to the whole thing. he feels he can start to come out of his shell a little more, start to trust a little that the guys won't fuck everything over. he's been so worried about doing anything drama-related for the last year that he hadn't gotten a chance to at least try to fix things in the drama department. given the chance, the guys aren't complete assholes all the time. maybe at some point there won't be that awkward tension between them at all.

he's almost there, less than 24 hours until grad photos and he doesn't quite know if he can be okay with it all. he wants to scream out, wants someone to really listen, wants someone  to care at all. fuck if that'll happen though, he's stuck in a world where transphobia is the norm and no one bothers to try and rectify it. sometimes it gets so hard to remember that they aren't doing it on purpose, they're just uneducated.

the part of his stomach tells him that he needs to speak up, to make things happen. his common sense (what's left of it) tells him to just get the fuck out of highschool and get on with his life. maybe being just another fruity highschool queer isn't enough, maybe he needs to make sure people see him the same way he sees himself in the mental photographs he takes. it could be the way they dissmiss him as "girl" that kills him. drama is supposed to be a place where you explore characters, yet they never let him explore the male characters that he can relate to a little more than any female ones.

<3 <3

you do it to yourself.

he wonders what goes through the minds of the followers, the lovers of christ. he wants to understand how they can aim to live by a book written so long ago. they trust so completely and he just wants to know how they can feel so moved to do so. he's trying to sort out his spirituality, where it will take him, but in his attempts to understand religion, most have told him that homosexuality is a thing that will slowly keep distancing him from being accepted amongst the religious followers. the muslim and jewish he has not explored in great detail, but they seem to be against homosexuality. buddhism in extremes seems to be against romantic love of any kinds, but he can appreciate the love of the animal and living a vegetarian lifestyle. christians and catholics he finds the most troubling, although their god doesn't seems to have a big issue with homosexuality, the followers for the most part have over read the word and spread hate based on old testament bits that have become irrelevant through time. that's why he doesn't want to bind himself to a religion , he doesn't want to over read religion and end up going against it accidentally.

transgender day of rememberance. there are so few that are completely supportive. he dreams of a day where no one cares what sex or gender people are, just accept people as they are. he feels like on such a day he is even more oppressed for showing his pride. there is so little mainstream knowledge about the trans* community that cis-gendered, heterosexuals don't even know what is going on, and almost no one understands that he is under the trans* umbrella. they just want to do their part in being all fucking liberal, but they don't even know how to be understanding, let alone supportive. so he tries to figure out just what exactly will make them learn to that maybe a future without transphobia is somewhere within reach. the victims are growing and it's not acceptable.

maybe he's just fighting between his love and hate for humanity. humans can be horrible, selfish, cold-hearted creatures, but they are built so diverse and beautifully that he can't help but to love them. he's so conflicted that he doesn't know what to do.

<3 <3

and everything you know and love's getting sold up.

weekends used to be enjoyable things, now he doesn't know what he feels anymore. now every weekend is only homework and maybe "family time" and some sleep. there's nothing exciting to keep him motivated to live till the weekend. he needs to find some reason to do something fun on the weekends, something that makes him feel good emotions.

he wants a pet. something he can hold and maybe cuddle with so that he can feel there is something out there that loves him even if it's only because he feeds it. his life has become rather pathetic these days.

there are less than two weeks until the first grad event, an event where he will be forced into wearing a dress. he already feels like he's having his masculinity (whatever small doses actually exist) ripped from him and torn into tiny shreds. he's struggling to not lash out at the world for putting him in such a shitty situation. he's begging whatever entities are out there for the strength to make it through. he refuses to become just another statistic in the world. once all this bullshit is over he'll be okay.

he realizes the thing that suppresses him the most is his mother. he's almost afraid to let his masculine bits slip because he would have to prepare for more transphobic fuckery from her. he cries a little each night when he can bring down the mask forced upon him with her. she thrusts "she"s and "daughter"s and such his way like she's never heard a thing he's said. she doesn't even think she's done anything wrong by asking him when he stopped liking being a girl or when he started wanting to be anything but female. she doesn't see how much it's killing him, how close he is to just leaving it all and taking to a world where everything is numb and there is no way back to life. he keeps hoping the day will come where he can be free.

<3 <3

don't dream it, be it.

he's so tired, so very, very tired. he couldn't help himself. he knows he should have been doing homework, but he can't even read without starting to doze off. power-ish naps help, except when they go from 6 to 11 so that there's nothing left of the day and he still is too fucking tired o move. everything is cozy and groggy and he just wants to go back to things making sense.

finally the weekend and he can't even remember what it means to have a carefree, fun-filled weekend. he can't remember what it's like to be allowed to actually go out and just party with other people and party with other people, have a fucking LIFE! the homework load seems somewhat manageable so he doesn't bother to figure out a schedule to get it all done. he secretly hopes he doesn't have to really do any of it, that it's all one big joke.

at least keeping busy keeps his mind off her most of the time, but it won't stop him from feeling so alone. it keeps getting colder and couples are getting more cuddly to keep warm. every time he sees them together he asks for one split-second  -why couldn't that be me, just once- only to feel even more alone. he tries to fight it off, not to care, but it seems impossible so much of the time he wonders why he even bothers anymore.

the only place he feels safe anymore is in his dreams, when he's asleep, alone. that way no one can try to tell him how much of a horrible person he really is. he's afraid of the very same people that he's desperate to make some sort of contact with. he doesn't see how so much could change in a yeasr. he needs to fix things, but he doesn't even know how to start.

<3 <3

you'd better hide all the girls.

he feels completely worthless. he always felt if there was one thing that could make him feel like he had some sort of purpose or thing to live for it would be writing. then essays have to go and need all these fucking examples to be good enough for AP english and it kills him. he knows that's the hardest part for him. he can attack anything or describe a love for thing, but the second he's asked to back up his shit with evidence and stats and stuff he's fucked. there are reasons he can't debate worth shit and he ends up getting people feeling sorry for him to be forgiven for shizz. he hopes his attempts will be good enough to make it out alive.

he's starting to understand the music, see how the fitting in loops and mixing them works. it's like everything clicked and he notices the little tweaks that are to be made, notices the balances, notices how he should be piling his loops to make it all pull together. he just hopes that From will get the way he gets it done.

that lurch in his stomach eggs him on, makes his heart have to stop a moment so that he can think with a clear head. he needs to focus on school, but he can't help but to need to know what's going on online, can't help but to need to explore ideas, can't help but to find connections between songs that seem so painfully obvious he doesn't know why bands haven't had lawsuits against each other. he pretends to be able to focus, but he knows that focus is as likely to happen as a volcanic eruption in a place with no nearby volcanoes.

it breaks his heart how much he's lost his love for all that is school-related. there used to be a passion pushing him to do well in class as opposed to just a fear of getting bitched out by his mother. it's been over a year and still when he thinks of school he thinks of SDSS. he needs to stop putting himself through the pain, stop having any emotion towards home.

<3 <3

another wasted life.

love is like getting high. the first time is beautiful and amazing and the rest of your life you end up chasing the high, hoping to have it like the first time. every time after that first time it just doesn't measure up and you get depressed when it's over. he'll spend the rest of his life chasing love and he wil find it, but he doesn't know if he'll ever be IN love again. but he wakes up every morning hoping he'll go out into the world and find the girl who can change everything and remind him what being in love feels like. he'll find her even if it kills him.

it sets in that he really doesn't have a job that much anymore. he knew he had no shift anymore, and that sucks, but he was hoping to pick up some holiday shifts. the thing is, he isn't even getting his employee discount anymore. he misses work, having that little piece of his life where he could feel independent. and having the bit of money coming in was pretty awesome too. having no income again makes him worry about next year, trying to move out, trying t get to a place in his life where he's okay with being himself.

the workload pile grows yet again. he doesn't know if it'll ever stop. he can't even recognize that half the things assigned are going to actually be due, or tests will actually happen. he's fine with doing an essay and some poetry, but the lit and the history test and the in-class essay for the lit part of english and the geo just fuck him over. he wants to just have english (only writing parts) and law for academics and keep the rest with electives. tht'll never happen, so he tries to nap at every point possible so that he can escape everything that is life. escape sounds like the only good plan to get out of highschool anymore. he wishes he had the will to actually try and graduate will amazing grades.

<3 <3

just to hold you in my arms.

nothing he ever does is good enough. best grade in english for years: why is it 1% away from an A? it should be an A. Pull off a 60% in a class he didn't get into until the end of the first unit so that he had to catch up on all that: are you happy with a c+? you better go see your teacher for extra work or else you're grounded. go up to 75% in geo: well it's not an A yet so why are you happy? and then people wonder why the fuzzies are telling him he's worthless. they're like parrots who imitate things people tell them.

he's missing her. everything is falling apart in his head while he waits for some indication that she still thinks about him every now and then. burying his feelings isn't going to help anything. he feels like he's failed every girl he's ever been with. not only failed himself, but he's failed to keep them happy enough to stick around for awhile. he almost feels like it's his fault for everything.

left alone with his thoughts he starts to think about how things would be if he weren't in the picture. he's often flirted with the idea of throwing himself under a bus or hanging himself by tying a rope to the banister on the railing above the stairs. sometimes, on bad days, he wonders if he'd have it in him to slit his own throat or stab himself to death. so many years laying dormant, he almost welcomes the self-hate. he needs punishment before he manages to screw up any other lives by being close to them. although he wishes he could be there to see the smears of blood as his corpse begins to cool. everything just gets in the way so that nothing goes as planned. maybe one day.

<3 <3

you will think that I've moved on.

settling back into the world of school doesn't register with him. he has the odd urge to makeout with every single one of his friends. coming back to the world of not everything christian makes everything just turn into flaming kinky gay sex. everywhere. his mind can't stay out of the gutter very easily.

actually, he just wants to cuddle. he could not move for the rest of his life and just stay cuddling, keeping a girl safe, staying warm for as long as their bodies would physically let them go. he could do that every day for as long as he lives and still be as happy as the very first time.

he tries to put girls out of his mind, yet he manages to always go back to them every spare moment he gets to himself. takes one track mind to a whole new level. there is no chance of escape from the threshholds of supreme lust. every girl he manages to just makes her way into his head to the point he practically begs to be in their pants. it never happens, just like how girls never seem to even try to stick around for more than a few short weeks.

every passing day he tries to get through as soon as possible so that he can get away from this shitty highschool. he wants to fast-forward to a time when things are extremely happy for once. every time his eyes begin to close, he sees them together, he fantisizes about the two of them together again. at this point he can't even put together a sentence that works at all. naptime is happening.

<3 <3

what you got means shit to me.

it's good for him to be home. he doesn't have to watch himself every moment to make sure he doesn't act too gay, doesn't have to hide himself away, doesn't have to pretend to believe in a god he knows he's never believed in. although he grew up in the baptist church, the best he can do is respect the religion.

he has a bit of a crisis. he identifies as mostly gynosexual, a little bit pansexual, and polyromantic. his physical attraction is almost is almost strictly females, with the odd ftm, androgynous man, or drag queen. at the same time his sexual attraction goes out to anyone who knows how to turn him on. the problem lies with his emotions. he can only manage a real emotional attraction in a "more than friends" way with physical females, thus, to make things short he just says he's queer. on top of that he's mostly agendered, although gender-neutral pronouns almost make him more dysphoric than gendered ones. his most hated pronouns are female due to his sex, so he settles on male pronouns. he figures if god is supposed to be above gender and is given male pronouns, why can't he have male pronouns as well?

someday he will figure out some way to describe his theology other than just extremely spiritual. he will have some sort of song he will be believing every word he sings as opposed to singing along and living a lie just because he'd rather sing with a fake passion than not sing at all. he can feel it, feel that there is something he believes in somewhere out there in the world. it might be closer than he thinks, he just knows he won't conform to a religion unless it is a way of life he can feel already mostly fits him. he won't change for anyone, any entity.

<3 <3

you're gunna cause more misery.

he was finally starting to feel like it doesn't matter that he's a flaming female-bodied gynosexual in the middle of christian camp, then they have fireside and storm reinforces the idea that homosexuality is a sin. he's ready to head home any time to get away from the place. good thing they're leaving tomorrow because he doesn't know how much longer he can last. at the last moment he's realizing that it might have have been a mistake to come this weekend. he doesn't know how to tell his friends that he won't be coming back to camp, especially the reason why. the twins know, he's now come out to another couple of girls, but he doesn't want them to know that that's the reason he doesn't quite feel comfortable being there much longer.

he hasn't given up on letting religion have its chance, just decided that organized religion is not his style even if he were religious. people don't seem to see being purely spiritual as a valid way of going about things. he wants to live life that way without judgement. he's treading on their turf, respecting their way of salvation, but they don't seem to be giving him that respect back. they won't even recognize him as 'him' because of the way his body presents itself.

every inch of the camp property reminds him of what could have been, if only things were a little bit different. he tries to wash those thoughts away, telling them that they do not exist inside his head. things are always a little bit off when they're inside his head, but he's gotten used to it by now.

he realizes leaving means going back to the same old life where he deals with his mother every fucking day. he doesn't even want to think about doing that. some things are worse than others.

<3 <3

if I promise to go to church on sunday.

he isn't quite sure how to get used to camp again. this time everything's different. he couldn't even get off the ferry without feeling like he's lying to them all. he gets shoved in the 'girl' category to have rooms and they've already had the girly mash-ish games where they tried to make him pick boys. he doesn't even know if he'll end up telling anyone who doesn't already know. things are getting slightly awkward.

mud gets everywhere. honestly, his boots are covered in the three hours he's been here. mud and orange tape all over his legs and feet, movember mustache on the finger, ans he's feeling pretty dope. closets don't makesense to him, being in one makes things seem completely unnatural.

he already misses his incense. they made things easier and the world make more sense. all the smoke somehow calmed him down even if that seems impossible. he may be among the trees at camp, but until he feels that almost meditation-type peace of the smoke in him lungs. apparently to buy lighters at 7-11 you need ID.. it's fucked up, but whatever.

he misses her. after all this time trying to pretend, he's back at the first place they were at at the same time. he wishes he'd met her that summer, but they did eventually meet and that's all that matters. life is awkward, but not always a bad awkward. he can deal with this type of awkward easily. maybe it'll get easier to trust people to know about him. he hasn't even told the twins about his whole big gender thing. fuck, he doesn't know how any of them will take any of this shizz. adventure begins right about now.

<3 <3

film the world before it happens.

it hurts
physically fucking hurts
to pour your soul into a moment,
build your being around a movement
then have it taken away.
to be told no for a lifetime
every time
you go to get your hopes up
hope for something better
than the voices pounding in your head
throbbing,
telling you you're worthless
everything is hopeless
and it's oppression,
not curiosity
that killed the cat.
it kills us all
slowly.
it's being shoved into a world
filled with hate
where people need labels
where change for a better tomorrow
get beaten down
with a baton and a riot shield
because they don't believe.
they don't trust in peace
in a place where humanity can co-exist
without guns,
without knives,
just love and compassion.
and it's just a fraction
of the world
that actually cares.

I come from a world that is so far out.

looking back at the last year, he sees how much he's grown. he manages to be okay without having someone to attach his face to, at least still-living type of okay. the time has let him explore his gender, his own mind, his creativity. he knows so much more about himself than he could've dreamed of the previous year. she was right, as much as it pains him to admit. she knew that the bullshit shadow of a man he was needed the time to grow into a realperson before he could be trusted with the emotions he felt for her. although now that he's made part of the journey, he realizes that they may not be able to ever make it work despite how much they did love each other. he should be thanking her for letting him take the time to figure that all out. he should be thanking her for letting him know how it feels to really be in love. he should thank her for making him responsible for his actions where he's always managed to talk his way out of trouble. what stops his from thanking her? maybe someday, when he's strong enough, he will.

this school year he decided to have a notebook on hand for the poems he writes in classes when he's bored. he never imagined it would be more than that. now it's turning into winter season and he has made a home in that notebook. quotes, notes on things he finds interesting, rants, poems, and other things have bled their way across the pages, searing his expectations with motivated ink. every thought that crosses his mind he assesses if it's worthy of becoming a part of that chapter in his life's records.

the tears rolling down his cheeks are purely from the amount of hours he's been awake. every memory running by leaves him with at least the hope of a smile. he's made it through everything, no matter how hard it was at the time. he can miss how things were before, but they will never measure up to this exact moment.

<3 <3

cut ties with all the lies.

as the days fly by, he realizes all the events are getting so close. then he realizes he doesn't have a date yet and most of his friends have already agreed to go together. things just keep on moving even when he isn't ready for them to happen. it really hits him how much different from what he thought this year's events will be. he should have been at SDSS boat cruise, should be going to SDSS winter formal, and should be going to SDSS prom and dry grad. not only is he not going to the events, but he's not going with the girl he'd said he would from grade 9, and not wearing the right clothes. in a way , his dreams have been shattered.

he's groping around in the dark, trying to find the switch to get to normalcy. someone seems to have hidden it again. he can't remember the last time things seemed real, that he could feel emotion when learning about serial killers, that he could gain any motivation to do anything. then again he doesn't even know what normal is anymore.

one final day to get through before he has to try and get everything done in the midst of the craziness that is camp. he's actually starting to get more excited about this weekend, more than he ever thought possible. just hoping the weather holds up so he can maybe try to learn to skateboard. he knows there's a good chance he'll just spend the whole weekend of free times in club coco chilling with books and lattes and pouring over themes and essays and such. apparently the only thing he needs to be working on is Engliosh. highly enjoyable homework for the most part. just lit makes him a little unsure if he can stay afloat in the class.

it may be time for him to b doing another wardrobe raid. somehow he knows there are many things he never wears no matter how much he love. girly clothes just don't seem to fit into his style, although he keeps them around in case he needs them for movie shoots. they take up space for almost no reason whatsoever. he just needs to clear it all out.

<3 <3

now we're partners in crime.

things are starting to get under control again. he finally has the worst part of homework done so that he remembers that there is still a bunch of work he needs to have done for classes tomorrow. halfway done he week, picking up a cheque tomorrow. two more school days until he's off for the weekend. he almost forgets that he was scared to be at a christian camp for the weekend because to him it means escape from his mother.

there aren't enough hours in the day to get the kind of sleep he's craving. he wishes that time for sleep would just keep on in repeat. instead, his attempts at having a life cut into the time that really should've been used to be sleeping in. instead he hypes himself up on caffeine, hoping to do something productive while he's still awake. then he crashes by the time he gets around to anything.

he can't seem to keep his mind off her for all that long. he tries to think of all sorts of thing, but in the end the thoughts somehow make their way back. he tries to stop it; she's like a drug of sorts. she drives him crazy in more ways than he cares to realize. someday he knows it will be different, not by much, but at least a little bit easier. he goes about life trying to get everything under control, understandable, under the point of extreme emotions.

just once he wishes someone would stop and wonder, "is that a boy or a girl" for even a split second. he wishes people could see how badly he needs to be anything but female. so he waits another day for someone to understand. it won't happen soon and he knows it but he can't help but to keep wishing. wishing is as far as he'll ever seem to go without being disapointed.

<3 <3

I am your time machine.

there's too much he's being asked to do in so little time. two more projects he needs done this week, plus written homework, reading like... 3 books, and pulling apart an essay and perfecting it to AP standards for English. there's no time but he's motivated, for most of it anyways. for now he could just use a giant nap. he needs a weekend to just do all his work alone at the same time. instead he has to try and get things done at breaks when there are people and distractions all around. he's fighting himself every second to try and get anything done.

he remembers the days where he'd sneak out just to go do homework, days before homework needed internet for information. days before his room was impossible to get out of without his mother's notice. he considers pulling an all-nighter to catch-up on some reading. fuck, he doesn't knoe what's going on in like... 3 of his classes.

the last school year, his Japanese teacher said his failing attempt of grades didn't make sense unless he had a mental blockade against learning the language. he might have found that blockade. throughout most of his years in Japanese school he was completely tormented by this kid named corey. he would honestly spend break crying, sometimes going home crying as well. he learned to associate the torment with his learning. he really wihes he had the time to saturate himself in Japanese to try to break through the blockade. maybe then things would make sense most of the time and it wouldn't seem so bad to be around family.

he's dying to have someone to talk to about things. it feels like he's been keeping it all in for forever, not getting the chance to talk out all his emotions about her, about his identification, about that constant hunger to feel loved. he needs the time, the trust in someone who's willing to listen. he just needs to let it all out at once, but he isn't quite sure where to start.

<3 <3

don't let the days go by.

his best friends are so far away. it's only a 30min car ride, but that distance makes life suck. one of them got a mohawk and he doesn't even know when he'll get out to go see it. the other he hasn't seen since before the beardyness. he misses them, wants to spend a lifetime just being with them. he wants to just get rid of this thing called life and reality and just go live with his best friends and some other people in a forest. just have good times and nature parties and long talks about nothing in particular for the rest of his time on Earth.

most people have figured out part of their future by now. the only things about his future he knows are that he is expected to graduate and he'll be moving out as soon as he can. job-wise he doesn't have a clue what he'd have enough motivation to do. fuck, he's never pictured the long-term future before and he has no intention on doing so any time. he feels so unprepared for everything. teachers strike doesn't help the fact that nothing feels fucking real and he can't seem to get his shit together for long enough to do anything. it would help him so much if he could feel anything about the time passing besides confused, if he could feel himself growing knowledge and maturing. things never work out in an easy way though. he doesn't understand the things that are life.

he can't understand the conciquence of not getting things done because it feels like every time he blinks his eyes a few days go past. the days go by too fucking quickly and it confuses him endlessly and makes it so that nothing at all makes any sense. almost like he's in an alternate universe. he's falling endlessly through space.

<3 <3

you're no friend of mine.

things were awkward. how can they not be when he sees an ex that has hated him for almost 11 months, who he hasn't seen since trying to sort things out right before valentine's day. she still has him shaking when they're in the same room. he can't control himself anymore and he doesn't have a clue what it means. he thinks he's most of the way to being over her, but then this all happens and he can't get her out of his head. all the memories come flooding back on repeat. it's not even that that's the part that drives him crazy. it's the hearing her voice, the same tone, the same laughter, seeing her giant smile, and knowing she's trying to pretend he's not even in the room as much as she can. it's not having her to be the one to talk to him and calm him down in the magical way she does after having that for so long. it's the wondering if things would've lasted if he just kissed her in grade 9 like he always wanted to. it's the find out that she came out to her parents the past summer and that they knew because they'd never been subtle. he wonders if her parents knew when they held hands in the backseat and connected that with the instant hate afterwards.

he feels like he should have brought quippy. even though having his inanimate girlfriend would make things more tense if possible. not to mention, it's an inanimate girlfriend that he bought because it reminded him of the ex that she was apparently willing to be on speaking terms with him because he was dating. somehow, that just doesn't work. the inanimate girlfriend to get over that ex he looked up how to write "I love you" in German to give to on the same day she broke up with him (because he's helpless at speaking languages he hasn't practiced his whole life.) somehow he knows that any mention of any of that would have made things worse with her. not mentioning anything was already about as bad as it could be. life is fucked up. girls are confusing. lesson learned.

<3 <3

doesn't even matter how hard you try.

testimony day. he isn't quite sure what to expect, but he knows that it will be something worth going to. he has no idea what he'll be saying, what he can get away without breaking into a place where everything gets awkward, seeing as people who played a big part in his self-discovery will be in the room. then there's the whole bit of not being completely out about himself to everyone when it comes to gender. it takes about 5-10mins to try to explain it though, so he kind of doesn't feel like coming out to people one at a time.

he has no clue about what to do with the job thing. he'll talk to his boss and hopefully come to a conclusion where it works for the best for both of them. although, in the mean time it's nice to have a bit of time off. he almost misses the crazy cleaning sprees on shift though. it's almost a therapeutic cleaning.

he's fairly comfortable in his skin at the moment. he feels like he looks dykey enough without being too, too awkward. plus he's come to be confident enough in himself that he can just fucking own whatever he wants; be it the itty bitty ponytail, the dyke boots, the painted-on mustache, or the general lack of sex appeal. all that matters is that the body dysphoria is currently at about... 0.0001%, at least for the next little bit. social dysphoria's a little bit higher, but he just doesn't give a fuck about what people think enough to ignore it mostly. life gets so much easier that way. then again, he's just a freaking flaming poof who can't keep his queer down.

<3 <3

nobody wants to be alone in the world.

he's just waiting to be fired. he knows it's coming and he's fucking terrified to check his e-mail because of that. he should have known better than to try and get a job while living at home. he should have known that his mother's dependency on him would give her excuses to ban him from working any shifts he's given during the school year. it's only convenient for him to get a job when it's within hours that she dictates. those hours never seem to be possible. the only one place where he could just be and not have to worry about his mother getting in the way of doing his own thing is about to be taken away. his constant, the only constant he thought he could hold on to will no longer be there to stop his from breaking down, freaking out, falling down. he doesn't know how much more he can take.

looking down he sees the scars he'd almost forgotten about. he can make out the word love, almost as clear as the day it was carved last. that was over 2 years ago, 10 months since his last scar at all... well scar he inflicted. he's been doing so well until he looked down. the memories flood back and he remembers how it feels. fuck, he's stuck between missing the pain and finding more painful substitutes. out of the corner of his mind he considers branding. he's played around with miniature versions of it in the past, but he's wanting to take it farther. he realizes... 10 months without the blade, but only 8 without burnings.

everything feels like it's closing around him. he's fucking terrified of it all, but he keeps on going every day. he wants to scream, he wants to mutilate, he wants to give up on trying and let everything go to shit. he wants to just sit and talk and cry and cuddle. he wants someone/ something to be there so he can have a living thing be that support he desperately needs. he's heading off to the deep end, letting it wash up over his head.

<3 <3

god sent me to piss the world off.

as movember continues he resents every moment that he can't really grow a mustache of his own. all around him guys have easily just decided to join but he can't really say the same. although it's technically also named no-shave november and he's already at almost 2 months with the legwarmers. it gives him a little bit of hope.

one month till he has to put his pride away and deal with the dress for winter formal. he isn't quite sure if he wants to go, after all, his mother's going. isn't the whole point to get away from parents and just chill the fuck out? shit is confusing. somehow he knew having his mother there would screw up his grad year at every chance she can get. he's dealing with her, only 8 months till he can at least start to get away from her.

less than 3 moths till he can legally be considered an adult. sadly his only plans to put that into use are tattoos and some things at little sisters. even with those plans he doesn't have anyone to make them seem all that much fun, or to hold his hand through the pain. although he's been on his own a lot so he should be getting used to it after all these years.

he doesn't want to close his eyes. when he goes o sleep more things seem to pile onto his plate. every day brings more challenges and new obsticles to overcome. it never seems to be over no matter how hard he tries to get everything done. he's afraid sleep will make his workload multiply somehow. there's nothing like being afraid to sleep to fuck up someone's mental health.

he misses the simple parts of life where he could manage everything, have time for a social life, and still keep some time to calm the fuck down on his own every once in a while. he wishes he could go back and tell himself in the past to enjoy every moment of it, not to waste a moment of that.

<3 <3

I try to believe you but I don't.

he's fading. he's trying to keep on top of everything to keep from thinking about her every second of every day. instead he's just fucking tired snd the thoughts creep up on him every moment he stops to breathe a little bit. it's not going to stop pounding its way into his life so he tries to drag sandbgs over to keep the wave at bay. he knows that sandbags won't be enough to stop it, but it's the only thing he knows to do. he's drowning, searching for some other solution. he prays to meowsus, asking for some way to make it stop. the only answer he gets is help to try and fifure out the whole situation, but he can't bring himself to put the plan into action without feeling like he's shaken out of his skin, shaken from fear.

he goes about the dy, shrugging off he LBs who comment on the fact he can't grow a real mustache for movember. he curses this body, wishing he could make his voice a little deeper, his body a little taller, his emotions a  little more balanced. he'll never fit the box for male and he may never find the right pronouns to fit his lack of gender, but he won't let the fact that any balls he'll ever have will be just as fake as sillicone implants get him down.

he hasn't known how to deal with the lack of internet access so far, even when he's had at least some time on the laptop every day not being able to constantly check to see if there's anything new in his inbox. somehow he keeps hoping something will pop up. he hasn't had a conversation with either of his best friends saying more than one thing within a day for ages. he misses them more than anything.

<3 <3

daddy's little girl ain't a girl no more.

it's over. after so much anticipation he's done for another year. he doesn't want to believe it's done. if he had it his way the holiday would continue for the whole year. although the rest of the world is starting to get ready for christmas already. christmas... his least favorite holiday. maybe he would enjoy it if he could be away from his family and the fighting and the screaming and the throwing of plates. maybe it wouldn't be so bad if his teen years weren't scarred with cancelled christmas get-togethers and the lack of trees. for once he wishes he could spend christmas cuddling under blankets by a fireplace, eggnog on hand, lights twinkling in the snow, carols all around. he wishes he could have one family get-together with a home-cooked meal in peace. o one badgering him about perfect fucking grades or getting inot the spirit of grad events, no one getting mad at his great grandma because she can't remember anything, no more of everyone bitching about how horrible a person his mother is (even if he agrees.) although it never happens.

serial killer presentations start tomorrow and it's the only thing keeping him going, giving him something to look forward to. the blood and the guts and gore are his only friends in tis broken world. he can't trust in anything else.

he's waiting for something to sweep him off his feet and carry him off into a way of life he never even considered. he's hoping some girl will come along and change his life forever, giving him a whole new take on humanity. he knows she's out there somewhere, but there's a good chance he'll never get a chance to meet her with 7 billion people on this planet. he can still keep hoping against the odds.

he's desperate for some girl to sink her teeth into his flesh, run her nails across his bare skin. it's slowly driving him insane. every girl he passes he hopes will be the one to end this dryspell.

<3 <3

I feel awkward as I should.

waiting for the day he's been looking forward to and he changes his plan at the last minute. for weeks he's been saying he'd do a neglected doll, but with the school haunted house doing a doll theme he needs something different. a bag of spiders catches his eye and ideas start to flood his mind. he plays around with names, finally settling on arachhomobia: queer of spiders. what better than to be an uber queer spider queen? he glues on fake nails and trys to remember how to do things with them in the way.

somehow it's all releasing a feminine side of him. he can't wait for morning to play around with makeup and skirts and such. everything seems like so much more fun for the holiday season. he's waiting for the clock to strike midnight so he cant actually say happy hallowe'en without sounding like a dumbass. queer christmas and he's like a kid unable to sleep on christmas eve. he knows if he's going to make it through the day without falling asleep he needs to get to sleep soon, but things in his head to shut up. he wishes things were easy, that there was time to do things to get ready for the night instead of rushing in the morning. before school.

he wants t give in to himself and just let himself try to feel loved. he wants to melt into someone's arms, no matter how platonic. he really just wants to eat until he can't feel any emotion other than full. he needs to stop caring about the world around, the mess of the city, the hopelessness of the human race. the fence around his heart needs to be rebuilt to withstand the hurricane that is life.

<3 <3