some of them want to be abused.

there's that moment when ze just doesn't know how to cope in a straight, cis-gendered world. when ze looks down at the survey they're supposed to fill out about education, how gender has anything to do with it ze will never know. the first question: what gender are you. ze stops, looks around, and wants to scream out "are you fucking kidding me? you want me to fill this shut out?" ze feels the tears right behind hir eyes, threatening to burst if ze open hir mouth to rant about the system. finally, ze decides to just go for it and circle both male and female. after finishing the rest ze decides that the admin might think it's a joke and disreagard the whole thing, so ze writes genderqueer in big, green letters beside number one. it feels good for hir to come out in something so official. 

ze is forced to play the role of she. ze has to push back the pain and give in to wearing a dress. the feel of the fabric, the exposed skin, the leers from onlooking men. ze is vulnerable and scared, ze can't quite breathe. then ze gets a chance to choose hir life. ze fucks with gender, playing with a flat chest and tutu, fishnets and fairy wings, short hair and glitter. ze doesn't know how to contain hir excitement for very long. being ably to feel comfortable is a new concept. 

many a girl crosses hir path on a daily basis. each day ze makes the conscious decition to only look at all the gorgeous hipster chicks. ze makes sure that ze doesn't do something ze'll regret in the heat of a moment. hir out of control hormones have to be satisfied with looking, no touching. ze is a one-woman show. although there are many, many girls ze'd joke about, ze really only wants one. 

<3 <3 

and she tumbled into love.

it was worth it to wait for Harry Potter to come to the drive-in. the whole expirience is just amazing, and being outside with two gorgeous hipster chicks just adds to it. mmmm sandwiched between hipsters. although there may have been about 500x as many sexual jokes as there should have been, but they couldn't be helped. 
the best part is always when the hot dog jumps in the bun. all the honking is pure beauty. there are no other words to describe how freaking amazing that moment is, when tension builds up and your heart pounds and you know it's going to happen but it just dances for forever. then it happens, everything is good in the world. 

another night of almost no sleep, another day with more to do than is physically possible in the time frame given to do it. the zombie effect takes up a perminant residence in the brain, leaving nothing left but mush. that's okay though, having absolutely no math left for the rest of my life. it's a good feeling. if only there was a chance to just sleep for a good 10 hours. 

he braces himself for yet another wave of dysphoria. another reminder of the body he was dealt at birth. another week to hate the world a little bit inside. he wishes he could just linger in a space where hormones are balanced enough that his male side and female side both show through in his sex. he wishes it wasn't so hard to be able to do a partical transition. he wishes that his eyes didn't want to just rinse away all the discomfort of a world that doesn't quite understand. 

<3 <3 

if we go to sleep we can wake up home again.

he sends out a not-so-silent plea to the world. he hopes for a quick recovery, for a painless future, and a night with much rest. she needs it more than anything. he struggles to remember kanji so he can give her something to see, something that he is telling her even when he isn't there. she struggles against the ropes binding her arms down, away from her head. she already pulled out one tube from a hole in her head. everyone wants her to be comfortable. she's strong and she wants out, but they need to let her rest and recover. she is their hope. she is the light that shines to illuminate the day, every day. 


he can't help but wanting to be elsewhere. being stuck in Vancouver while everyone else is either in tsawwassen, working, or off on an adventure is the last place he would WANT to be. he lays alone in his bed with all the Teddy bears that never hug back. he waits, watching the time go by. he can barely contain himself as he waits to have her in his arms once again. the tears spill from his eyes after days of hiding. he allows them to just be free. all the hard work, all the long days, all the emotional strain comes out in those two steady streams. he cries for his family, he cries for his great-grandma, he cries for everyone who's been in the hospital at a bedside for hours on end, he cries for the distance from Canada to England, he cries for the eight hour time difference, he cries for his own lack of sleep and motivation to sleep. all at once, it escapes him. for once he is vulnerable for longer than just when he is alone. he is vulnerable enough to open up, to really bond and share his heart. he just hopes that it will last until he gets a chance to do so..
he feels zombified. each movement weighted, yet floating without thought. not really seeing what is right in front of him. brainless, hoping to grab a brain that can get him thinking once again. he relies on caffine to keep him from crashing and napping during the day. he doesn't know when he will get to rest again. it's all just one long day to make up the summer. 

<3 <3  

and she believed that nobody noticed that she felt like this.

he gets forced into the girl box. he gets tormented into another photoshoot. he has his masculinity stripped from him as he is forced to don a dress, even for a moment. his confidence is shattered. he gives in and plays the part. he puts on his mask, fills in his somewhat- invisible eyebrows, sticks on an actual bra (as opposed to his normal sports bra), and flirts and twirls for the camera. he hopes the bitch gets the photos she was looking for, because it killed him enough to go through with it. he can't wait until he hits 18 and can start to make his own decisions. he can't wait to have enough of a disposable income to at least do some drag makeup and buy a proper binder. 
he gets to that moment where the small talk with the photographer turns personal. "so do you have a boyfriend?" asks the photographer. "GIRLfriend" he replies. he quickly tries to change the topic, not bothering to clear up that it is his modeling that is off and on, not his relationship. he regrets it, like he doesn't care about her enough. although at the time he just wanted to keep shooting without crying. he misses her. explaining how fantastic she is to a stranger would surely bring a few more tears than headshots require. the photographer doesn't drop it, the rest of the session there are random moments of mentioning the girlfriend, like the photographer wanted to see deeper into his soul. he refused to crack. that night he comes home with one last hope for the day that he'll find some kind of non-technological form of a sign that she'll be back somewhat soon.

the hospital is nearly deserted. only a few staff members litter the hallways. they make their way to the sixth floor. when they finally find the room, they enter to fighting. the whole time they're there, there is fighting between the sisters. they're all scared to lose their mother, in a way they've lost her already, so they get angry and blame each other. they're so scared that they can't stay in the room with her weakening body, they just yell at her, at each other. it's not a good enviroment for anyone. he sits in the corner, observing. he wants to reach out but he doesn't know how. the only way he can make things the least bit better is by exchanging smiles and laughter from across the room. they read each other's eyes and share moments. there may be a warzone in  between them, but they share and the world seems a little less cruel. before he leaves, she calls him to her bedside; she tells him she'll see him tomorrow. he'll hold her to that promise. no one knows how much longer she'll hold on for, but she promised at least until tomorrow. once she's gone, he'll break apart from the family. they've done nothing but attack him, if it weren't for her, or for his education, he'd be long gone by now, somewhere far away where yet couldn't reach him. she keeps him from completely giving over to insanity. the tears bubble up every time he realizes that at any moment he could lose her. he shivers. he loves her, soft, frail flesh and all. 

<3 <3     

we hate too fast and we love too slow.

she lays in the hospital bed, wires coming out at all angles. machines are whirring all around her. she doesn't know where she is. she looks around and sees her three daughters crowded around her bedside, along with her son-in-law, granddaughter, and great grandchild. they peer down at her. all of a sudden it gets to be too much and she tries to get away. there are bars up on both sides of her bed to stop her. that annoying little clip on her finger is her only way to rebel, she takes it off and the beeping begins, signifying there is no heartbeat. the doctors all say how cute she is, that she is a fighter and will get through this with no problem. her one daughter freaks out. she wants to do everything possible for her mother, but thinks surgery is a bit drastic. there is too much risk involved. they all gasp at drilling burr holes, only the youngest knows what it means, although he never thought he'd hear those words anywhere besides the tv shows. the doctor explains and more panic rises is the rest of them. she is still laying there, oblivious to what is happening. the biggest perk of her inability to speak of understand very much English. 
it is a basic procedure, something many elderly people have to go through at some point. many falls or strokes actually tend to develope bleeding of the brain apparently. a good chunk of the elderly go around with two or four holes in their head as battle scars, badges of honor and age. he wonders if he'll ever have to endure sure a thing, although he is a good 50 years from such things. he decides he would never be as brave as her. they're all just lucky that the surgeon is Japanese and can make her a little more comfortable during the proccess. 

he goes home and tries to sleep, but there is just too much worry. worry for his family, worry for his love. seems everyone is taking up at least a little bit. he just needs to get some rest and prepare for another hard day ahead. he tries not to think about any of it too much. although tomorrow bring another day where mail is delivered. he hopes tomorrow is the day the postman decides to send him something worthwhile, not just more samples and junk. he tries to rest his weary eyes, the past weeks events keep unfolding in his mind. he misses her dearly, he wants her in his arms while he waits to hear the fate of his broken family. 

<3 <3 

and I'll send all my loving to you.

he feels so helpless. he watches as his great grandma struggles to even sit up. a week ago she was fine, but they just waited too long to help her and her feet and her legs. her legs have way, she cannot walk or even really stand on her own. even to sit down properly she needs help so she doesn't slide off. she hates it, she says I have to carry her like she's a baby. she doesn't know what's happeing. according to her she's 20 years younger and it's year 2003 right now. it's just depressing. 
on another note he realizes he can't come out to her. ever. his great aunt tells her that he's going to be in the "okama" which means gay, parade. she starts laughing like crazy. she'll never understand. he doesn't know what to do. it's fucking terrifying. his entire family from his grandma's generation and older seem to think that gay is funny. it's like being in a grade school classroom where everyone's giggling at the word because they don't understand it. his entire family doesn't understand it. maybe his mother, maybe his uncle and soon to be aunt, but that's it. he wants to scream. he wants to run away from it all. he wants to seek refuge in a little queer village in the forest. 

he wonders were the crossover between super dyke and hipster is. he fears he may be venturing into it. most of his friends are known hipsters, he's attracted to plaid like a fly to shit, and everything his friends seem to love have mostly been part of his love too. his mother has been questioning him for quite some time "are you sure you're not a hipster?" but now he is not so sure. has he crossed the line into hipsterdom?? only time will tell.

he waits. less than four weeks now. about 24 days until she touches home soil. he wishes he could be the one to welcome her home, hold a sign at the arrivals terminal at the airport. he wishes he could throw her a welcome home party for that day. he knows that he's lucky if he gets to see her in the next day or two after she gets back.. he knows that it's still a fair amount of time left before he should even be thinking of any of this. the truth is, he's been thinking it before she even left. so what if it's not even halfway to when she'll be back, he misses her. he has dreams where everything goes back to wartime and she suddenly appears and he has to wisk her off to a dark ally to get a chance to kiss her. he doesn't even know exactly where she is. all he knows is that sometime in the next 48 hours she'll be flying farther away from him. he'll know when, he'll feel it somehow. he'll worry every moment she's up in the air, he'll worry every moment until the next plane ride, he'll worry for every plane ride and stay on the other side of the world. he'll keep on worrying until she comes home, until he knows she is safe.

<3 <3  

you got me like that, you're what I'm craving.

he puts himself out there. everywhere he goes, he feels the eyes judging him, labelling him as female, and he gives them his resume. he is vulnerable and it's not a feeling he enjoys. he wants to be able to right down somewhere in his resume to explain to perspective employers who he really is. they only want to see one side, they don't bother to really see him. he wants to run, to keep running until all of it goes away, until he sees something worth stopping for. right now, it's all just a mess. he doesn't hae the energy to clean it up. he wants to find somewhere that is clean to start off with, and so he waits for pride, the only time of year where he doesn't have to explain himself to the rest of the world. he dances amonst the other bois who don't really know what they are. he feels at home surounded by drag queens. and the glitter and the paint are his mask from reality masked from where there is hate in the world.

the sea calls his name. in whispers no one else can hear. it calls to him, beckoning him in. he has to fight every urge to give in. he doesn't trust himself around that much water. he wishes he could, but then he remembers. he renembers just how much he loved the water, how he was at peace for once, how he let go. when he let go he just forgot the world. but they had to ruin it, they had to bring him back, they had to make him breathe. they told him there was more than death to escape it. so now he cannot be there, he cannot let the water flow over his body and make him feel powerful and at peace. he has to ignore the water, no matter how much it wants him.

<3 <3 

how did you know to get out of a world gone mad?

this is the exception. Nick Simmons. I can't even tell how exactly I love him. yes, I would kill to have his body, and yes I do strangely find myself attracted to him. this almost scares me. this is the problem with skinny, tall, long-haired, musician or artist boys. especially when they happen to be English majors. if I somehow got the chance to be in their body I'd just spend all my time in the mirror. just checking myself out. but at the same time, as long as their dicks stay I their pants I would pretty much instantly make out with them. it's just not fair how pretty they are. this is pretty much the reason that I will admit to at least a little bit of pansexuality. there always have been a very, very few numbet of cis-gendered males that I do find attractive. VERY FEW, but they still are there...

for the rest of my summer I will most likely end up trying to find an amazing male wardrobe and throwing out a bunch more girly clothes. just filled another bag today. need to get rid of so many things, no time to sort through it all. value village runs are a must, including many big, warm man sweaters :) those are always the best. maybe start picking up a few things for pride, or even grad. 

need to start making plans for Halloween. the haunted house I've had some plans for since forever ago, my costume for actual Halloween is a little more difficult. still working on an idea really. this could be an interesting year.

<3 <3  

you can sit beside me when the world comes down.

every waking moment of every day away from her he feels his heart sinking, missing, longing. he knows not the ways of the big, bad world and too far from home terrifies him so, yet he is willing to adventure far just to be with her for a moment. a simple moment is all he needs to reassure himself that she hasn't gone off and found someone more worthy than he, to hold her in his arms and forget the rest of the world exists, to rest more easily knowing that she is safe from harm's way. he counts the days. 13, 5, 29. she just might be driving him crazy. he's never been one for staying at home and waiting for the simplest things until now, she has him begging for some sign of anything. he worries too much. he knows that she'll manage somehow, but he still worries that something will happen. 

an old woman nears 95. she feels alone in a foreign land even though she's lived there for at least 70years. she can't remember most of it. all she remembers clearly is the life on the rice fields back in japan. the place where she could actually talk to everyone without having to rack her brain for the funny-sounding English words. she forgets that her husband is long gone, her children are all grown up and nearing retirement, and one of her grandchildren is finally getting married. all that matters is getting off her feet. every step she takes brings her a step closer to giving up. she's still young, that's all she remembers. so why do her feet hurt her so? why are they covered in all sorts of corns and bunions? her children talk about walkers and scooters and even a wheelchair. "but I'm too young for that" she protests, her countryside Japanese a cry for help. they are all insane to her, they think she needs all these things, she just needs her feet to stop hurting. then she remembers it all for a brief moment and laughs. how could she forget so much? inside, she's crying, wishing that it doesn't all go away again. she doesn't know that they're all saying that they don't know how much more she has left in her. 

<3 <3  

it's just another day and I don't know how to change.

he cannot leave the wounds to heal. he feels the need to poke at them and make them bleed again and again. no matter how much pain he is in, how much puss comes out, he just feels the need to make it worse. one day he will die doing something simple, somehow end up with some rare disease or accidentally hanging himself or something equally as foolish. then again he may just die in a car accident caused by staring at pretty girls on the sidewalk and not at the road... 

sometimes he forgets he was born a she. it just seems so natural to be a he that he doesn't really get why the rest of the world doesn't see him that way. and then he has a girly day and it all gets more confusing than he ever thought possible. he is a she who feels like a drag queen, only less fabulous, and not quite so beautiful. a lot of the time he just chills in his male mindset. 

another old flame greets him. she spent months turning people against him, breaking him down, and now that time has passed she carries on as if nothing had happened, like they had just spent time apart, not fallen out. he has to wonder, does she still feel anything? after all this time, after all these others, where do they stand? they spend hours just talking and catching up. it's amazing how much he still feels he knows her after all this time. she's grown up, he's grown up, and they are still so much alike. 

<3 <3 

when the world's asleep, I'm stil trying to figure it out.

he couldn't sleep. even as the long day ahead taunted him, he was powerless against the grips of aweakeness. the gears in his head churned and churned. all it took was someone telling him that she wanted to be friends again since he's seeing someone and that would apparently make things easier. hours pass by as he tries to figure out just what kind of games she is trying to play with his head. he spent 2 1/2 years under her spell and now she comes around going for round two, yet she can't even start it herself, she has to get her best friend to do it. he wants to hate her, to make her feel as worthless and alone as she made him feel. he just doesn't have that much of a mean streak in him. he can't do it. so he'll end up welcoming her back into his life and pretending that his heart doesn't falter when she gets too near. a man can only take so much from one girl. 
after hours pass he realizes what he's thinking about and wants to punch himself. he has an amazing girl who really cares about him, a girl he is finally happy again when he's with, then here he is thinking about a girl who treated him like shit like she's god. it doesn't make sense. so the next few hours he spends thinking about her, how much he misses her and would give anything to hold her in his arms, and how lucky he is to have found her. finally, when all is good in his mind, he drifts off to sleep, just to be awoken a little over four hours later.

it's been three days since he last heard from her and he's going crazy. he has been reduced to rambling about how he loves the postman and all the beautiful things he sends the world. he anxiously awaits when the postman will bringing him something, word of how she is doing all those many miles away. he worries too easily. he fears she has figured out that a life without him is much better, much easier. if only he could see into her mind for just a moment, figure out just what she thinks about him. 
he has become a slave to any form of contact that she might possibly be able to use. it's an addiction that only she can cure. in the midst of this all, he's still awaiting his owl with his acceptance letter to hogwarts. there is just so much to prepare for. he thinks he might be just about ready to completely fall into her and try to intertwine himself in her life in every way he can. that L word again, he doesn't quite know what to do with it..

<3 <3  

look into my eyes very eyes.

everything is just numb. just a video happening in front, without any actual emotion. nothing is really real. maybe it's all a dream, waiting to be woken from it's grasps. although conversations still happen; children still play in the parks. even when the tears rain down, they don't know why. there is just emptiness. a piece of the puzzle missing, waiting to be found somewhere out there. 
out there where there is more than just confusion. out there one has to choose: male or female, yes or no, alive or dead, happy or sad, gay or straight, rich or poor. out there no one seems to understand being in the middle. no one out there knows what it's like to live outside the black and white. it's a hard concept to understand. 
yet they expect conformity. they find it hard to understand anything outside the norm so they make everyone else live the hard way and cator to the expected way of life. maybe that's just too fucking hard for some people. so everyone tries to go about their own life their own way then BAM, some fucking idiot decides to spread word around that that way of doing things just isn't right. this is what spreads hate, this is what kills people.

schools think they're safe. the people in them tend to think they do pretty good. they think that they're cracking down on 'no tolerance' policies. they just turn a blind eye. they say tabacco-free, yet they have a designated smoking area. they say all inclusive, then they take special needs kids out of classes to sit in resource rooms doing nothing. they say no bullying, but they only see physical violence as bullying. they don't give a fuck that kids can't concentrate in class because people in the class are making loud, descriminative comments. they don't even care when students stop showing up to classes because they feel like not going is the only way to get away from hate. they think they have it good, but they don't know inside the student mind. 
even the staff, they claim that the school doesn't have any issues, but they don't see the way the kids interact when they aren't looking. and it breaks my heart. 

<3 <3 

hey, you looking kinda cute.

he finds himself in a land he thought familiar, but really is as foreign as the other side of the world (which he's never been close to), in a city he travels to every couple months or so. this city turn out to be almost an artistic sanctuary. he finds himself at home where the houses are every shade of blue and green ad purple imaginable, where trees have bikes in them, and fences are decorated with bead necklaces. some even have chickens just chilling in their back yards. there are gardens and creative bits and pieces in every direction. mostly, there are his people, the ones who want to fight for that chance at peace, the ones driving the vanigans and flying rainbow flags on their houses. he wants to stay a while to soak in the beautiful side of town, but alas, life awaits him back at home. he promises to return and join in on their fun, although he knows that getting a green card would be hell. he will be back, when the art walk is on to showcase just what talent is going on. 

walking along the streets he finds himself wanting to show her everything he sees. she would love it all, every last bit. she would lose her self in the aclectic mix of shrubbery and decorations. she would want to live there and recycle and compost alongside the rest of them. he can almost see them sharing a little cabin on a junglesqe lot covered in random objects to catch the slightest sun rays. the image fades and he wonders just how to see life without thinking about her every moment of every day she's gone. and this is the easier part, before the texting stops completely. he waits for her return. maybe one day they will venture back to this place together...

<3 <3 

I know it's mad, but if the world were ending would you kiss me?

mr. spider, perched up in the corner, will you please come down? I watch you scurry, you watch me sleep, yet we never talk. when dusk turns to dawn, you avoid my curious gaze. I want to get to know you. you are the first thing I see in the morning, a black speck on my white celing. I open my eyes and immedeately you run off, on all eight legs, to try to hide. I just want to get to know you. I want to share more moments together doing something other than watching one another. I know I may look big and scary, but really, get to know me, I can be quite fun. I know you want to get to know me too, that's why you stick around. three mornings in a row I see you staring back at me. now it's too dark to see you, but I can guarantee that you're up there somewhere, watching me. do you know that you're on my mind? maybe one day we'll sit down and have a conversation, for now you'll just watch over me whilst I am sleeping. are you my guardian angel??


he doesn't quite know what to make of the body he's been given. the scrawny, weak body with the fleshy bits on its chest. he wishes that there was enough meat on his bones to hide the bits on his chest, that he had the muscle to do what other men can do. he wishes he had the strength to pick her up and sit her on a table or countertop to kiss her, make her feel like a special prize that he has won. he wishes he could give her piggyback rides  across town as she falls asleep in the blistering sun. he wishes he could carry anything the least bit heavy for her and not struggle with the weight while trying to appear to have it completely under control. he wishes he could be the strong one to protect her from harm's way. most of all, he wishes he was taller. all the other boys tower over him, making him feel insignificant. how can he be that rock, that shelter for her when he's nothing compared to the other boys? he is just a femmeboi who's as skinny as a hipster boy that inhales more cigarette smoke than calories. and he is not quite okay with that.

tears escape his eyes at the end of the day, when he thinks no one is looking. they make their way down his freckled cheeks and still he doesn't make a move to wipe them away. the sky begins to cry with him, mixing with his tears. slowly, he is getting soaked. he thinks about going inside and warming up with a hot cup of tea. he decides against it when he remembers why he came outside in the first place. tonight he will stay out until the stars shine, until he knows that he is seeing the same stars that she might be seeing at that exact same moment. it may be unlikely, given the time difference, but he is willing to wait. the cold of the rain soaks into his skin, leaving his entire body numb. he imagines holding her close, feeling her heart beating next to his. the entire sky lights up, followed closely with the crack of thunder. he is not afraid. by now, everyone else has made their way home; the streets are empty, leaving him to fall deeper into his own thoughts. he cannot sleep. he needs some way to connect to her before he can rest, so this is his last hope. right now he can tell that the skies will mostly likely stay clouded for at least another day, leaving tonight to be just another night spent thinking about her. maybe tonight he'll figure out the right words to tell her just how much she means to him. 

<3 <3     

so isn't it wonderful to be alive?

and then everything is queer and it's all better. honestly, my life is everything queer and there's nothing to do about it. even when I'm not trying to make something queer, rainbows just pop up. like they are attracted to me and there's no way to stop them. EVER!!!! not that I'd really want to most of the time. 

rawrg. tired. fuck this, I'll write something pretty tomorrow... 

<3 <3 

I'm such a slave for you.

in this day and age everything is about sex. the girls wear as little clothing as possible, the boys want the girls in as little clothing as possible and then take off their shirts to flaunt muscles. every song on the radio is either about sex or falling in love or breakups. almost every add on tv or in print has some form of sex appeal. it's more than a little sad. 
people gossip mostly about who's sleeping with who, whenever anyone is seen with anyone else the first question asked is if they've had sex yet. there is almost no such thing as romance anymore. if you mention liking someone, it turns into wanting to jump their bones. even simple sentences with no dirty intentions get taken the wrong way. 
I know I've been pretty bad for all of this. I had my time where everything was sex, where I actually felt I had to have sex every day because someone else wanted it. I got named the town whore for a while. still, I use sexuality to cover up any awkward moments. it's a mask that is generally very easy to put on. I honestly don't know why though, with my history it should be the last thing I'd want to use as a mask. maybe because there aren't all that many emotions tied to it for me. straight sex didn't really do anything for me, and I guess I'm still at least half a lesbian virgin. not that anyone really knows. everyone just assumes that lesbian sex is a regular occurance or some shit. 
sex actually terrifies me a little bit. it gets more complicated with two female bodies, you can't just stick a dick in somewhere. I get nervous just thinking about actually doing it. what if I do something wrong? if my 1 1/2 year fuckathon taught me anything, it's that sex doesn't mean anything unless it's special, and love-fueled, and you actually want to give everything over to the other person and become one. the physicality generally comes with a bunch of emotional shit and it's not worth it if everything's not perfect.
sex happens way too fast these days. I miss the days where people would spend the time getting to know everything about the other, forming an intense emotional bond, learning to completely trust one another, and waiting until the right time.
(this is the part where I get all girly) I want to wait until I can trust someone with every little piece of me. until someone loves me for all my messed-up, gender-confused glory. I want it to be when I know them almost as well as I know myself, when I don't want to be with them, but I NEED to be. I want it to be at a moment where there is nothing else separating us and it becomes the final act in the proccess of fully becoming one. like the joining of the two parts of the soul. I want it to be perfect. 

really need to stop having so many girly days in a row, starting to fry my balls. whatever, I'll just turn into a total sap and everyone will just point and laugh and it will be life. no big deal. 

<3 <3 

he was just hanging around, then he fell in love.

I walk the fine line between male and female. it's the only place that feels like home, like my skin doesn't want to crawl off my body. every day is a battle to find the middle ground, to figure out just where in the middle feels right. some days I wonder what the fuck I'm doing. I miss my long hair and the way I could hide behind it. I want to be seen as beautiful by the standards of society. other times I'm just fine being whatever and looking however. I just want to be human and not defined by any physical atributes. mostly, I just wish I looked a little more boyish, that I could pass when I put in a little effort instead of just passing in my head. I want to be just one of the boys, walking around in the summer without a shirt. 
there is no middle ground in the eyes of the passer-by. they label at first glance. but I just wish they'd wonder at least a little bit before they decide that I'm just another girl. I wish they could see the man beyond the skin. 

he is haunted by the looming grad activities. they require formalwear, attire which automatically splits the class into male and female groups. he doesn't know what to do. he knows that they all expect him to play nice and wear a dress. all he really wants is to wear a suit and by the matching accessory to his beautiful date. or if all else fails, mix some things around and draw the eyes of everyone to his gender non-conformity. he wants to educate them all on the way it hurts with every she or her, to teach them what an ally really is. he wants them to stare and wonder, if only just to get his point across. he wants to give a better future to the generations of little genderqueers to come. he wants them to not be as nervous about their events as he is for his. 

she doesn't know what every word she says means to him. she doesn't realize how he swoons over the tiniest little things. she doesn't even notice how she's made such a big impact on his life. she is the life ring that saved him from drowning. she is the angel that touched his heart. she is the flashlight that lets him read life's pages. and she is more than he deserves. he keeps it locked up inside, hoping she won't think him coming on too strong, praying she feels the same. he wants to be careful, to be sure. but he thinks this may just be it, that thing, they call it love. 

<3 <3  

I think I love her, I might love her.

he is not a product. he has been forced into the view of the camera, having pictures appear out of nowhere. he does not understand why. they tell him that he is a beautiful girl and his pretty face can get him far if he has the skills behind it. he doesn't want this life. so long has this been his reality that he doesn't know how to escape. everyone assumes this is his passion, his life, his love. none of them know that he secretly despises every moment of it, it makes his skin crawl. he will admit to a skill that is a little more than average and apparently he has that pretty face. but the spotlight scares him. he wouldn't mind it if the goal was just to get a message across and use the artistic angles to make a statement, but that isn't a living in that position. society has made the goal money and fame and selling souls for making a name. none of this interests him. he is really quite shy with strangers. he is too lost trying to find himself to take on so many other characters. he does not have a high enough self esteem to think he is worth being put in this spotlight. he doesn't believe anyone ever wants to look at him. he is told that he's wasting potential, agents want him if he'd just put in the effort to get some headshots and pictures compiled. 
it is a war in his head. they want him to agree with the she they see. they want feminine and sexy and beautiful. they want to box him into a girl box. he wants to be the man, wants to change his look as he pleases as he gets closer and closer to a place he feels comfortable presenting as. they want him to stay the same, have the look the same as the pictures. they want just another girl to be hopelessly dependant on a boy or a boy's opinion. he wants to run far away from this ideal. he wants to find a way to make a change in such a cis-sexist industry. he wouldn't mind the pictures so much if it were in drag, if he could present male. he knows that what sells is sex, he can't do sexy as either gender. female just makes him want to cry, male he can't show enough skin to be enough. he has no place. 
he wants to be behind the scenes, writing, creating, moulding the future. he wants to bring art and thought into such a mindless thing. he wants to educate the world. 

he has to settle for sitting in a corner and waiting for things to happen. settle for waiting for the future to unfold. it fucking terrifies him. 

<3 <3 

something is not the same.

today it just kind of hit me. a wave of goodness. I haven't always been the best when it comes to being Eco-friendly and such, but I want to get better. I want to take the extra time for organic and searching for more friendly products. feels like I need to do a cleanse of my life, go through all the junk I've collected and give away all that shit I don't have any use for anymore. declutter my space so I can begin to declutter my life just a little bit. get back in touch with the earth and stop relying on all the physical objects to try to make me happy.
maybe it's just because neutral colours are making me more at ease, and they seem to be almost the only thing that can right now. music, art, and neutral colours.
 
it's almost like this whole person is fighting his way out of me. he just wants to be free to love and spread the love and connect with everything aroud him. he wants peace. he knows that in order to not be just another hypocrite he must be careful not to desturb anyone. he must maintain as much peace in his own life as possible before he can claim to want the world to follow suit. he is one with nature, as much as one can be whilst living amongst society. somewhere along the way, he realized that peace is not realistic in such a greedy world, so he dedicated his life to fighting the man. he protests the pointlessness of an uneducated, overpowering government. he wants to be one to make a difference and help provide the world with a sense of peace, but all he knows how to do is create the scenes he wishes to achieve in his sketches, create pieces to make people think before they act, and think about why they should act. he sits alone, writing about the world as he hopes it may one day become, dreaming like many others before him. he weaves another hemp bracelet to try to make some money to eat that day. nobody sees him for the fighter he really is. they call him an addict and they call him crazy, but never would they call him brilliant. he leads the marches, fuels the fight, and speaks for the voices that never get heard. he wants to bring the best. all he gets in return is a beating, an empty stomache, and a defeat, larger than the one before. he lives inside of me, waiting to come out, clawing his way into this world.
first I must prepare the body for the amount of work it will need to perform, for the duty of becoming this man. 
and then my other sides emerge as well. the balance more difficult to find than most. the dillema.

<3 <3 

how do you say goodbye to everything you've known?

snakes. I love them ever so dearly. my mommy knows this so she decided we should go to the nature park for reptile day stuff. ended up holding at least 8 different snakes, four of which went up my arm, on my shoulder, or around my neck. I loved every moment of it. I love how the snakes were free enough to roam around all over people, how they all seemed to love me, how it feels as the different sized snakes slither across your flesh. everything about those little fuckers I just absolutely love, except for what they eat. if they were vegitarians they would be the perfect animal. their skins have the perfect amount of colour and shine, and their tongues just slightly tickle when they hit a sensitive spot (like my neck). they feel so powerful, yet they just work with me to intertwine themselves with me so we can become one. being that beautiful, I just want to have one and pour a bunch of my affection into it. something to keep me from hating everything when I'm at home with my mother, something for me to be able to protect and feel like I have a purpose. something soft to just love and talk to when everyone actually has a life. 

funniest part is that one of the snakes that absolutely loved me was named Helen. this is the one that just wanted to roam my shoulders, neck, back, everywhere. she was a freaking beautiful snake. one of the longer ones, but not heavy enough to really realize you had a snake on you. honestly, I wish I could take her home so we could become better friends. I'd want to bring her with me everywhere, just chilling like a scarf. I doubt that she'd actually stay still enough to do that though. bummer. 

I wish I could write some beautiful piece to make everything I feel be heard, but I've never been much good for explaining my feelings, even if they are written. the right words just seem to escape me. maybe if I tried in the daytime and could actually concentrate on writing instead of a million other things, but that really is a lot of maybe. although I do have quite a fair bit of time to myself in the next few weeks, so maybe I can do this. there's a few little projects I might want to try before you get back...

<3 <3 

do you know where you are?

so tired. being away from civilization is nice, in fact I'd prefer to live far out in the wild, but there's so much work and without large amounts of caffine in my system I just want to sleep. two nights sleeping in a tent and I just want to sleep forever in a dark room. barely two days of being out looking for wood, walking around, and getting into play fights with one of the besties later and I'm ready for a good 10-hour nap. 

right about now sounds like a good time to curl up in bed with a cup of tea and reread things until I drift off into sleep and dream about those lazy summer days cuddled beneath the bright, blue sky. the ones with a gentle breeze and the grass at just the right length. 

it seems to be the same with every queer person I know. if anyone in earshot, even if you're not paying attention to them, even mentions something the least bit queer our ears automatically tune into that conversation. discussing this in a tiny little American town somehow lead to naming it a 'queer twitch' and the rest of my life I might just end up twitching around anything queer and calling it a queer twitch. or a queersure. or even queerettes. 
random shizz like this happens almost every time I hang out with maddy, maybe that's why we're such amazingly random friends. 

really have to spend more time in tsawwassen with that whole crew. they're awesome and yeknow, take my mind off the next six weeks of loneliness. I really am not good at being alone. I start going crazy and thinking people from tv shows are real. and only live on the interwebs. kinda like turning into Sydney for awhile. Not exactly fun. 

lalala

<3 <3 

your love has captured me.

somehow all this math crap just clicks the second time around. sure, I'm still fucking up with certain numbers, but I understand the concepts and what I'm actually doing instead of just blindly filling in numbers. word problems are actually making sense. it feels good being the one who my friends in the class ask for help. it finally feels like I've accomplished something after a year of just fucking around. 

grade 12 is going to be a good year, I can feel it. there seems to be a whole other energy source propelling me forward so I can do well for once. plus, for the first year ever I actually have an easier course load. all arts and fine arts. things that I actually enjoy. well, except history and geo, but I need provincially examinable courses and I can find a way to make them somewhat fun. it's better than taking physics 12 or math 12 or something like that. although bio might be fun, if it weren't for having to deal with dead animals and things. 

sometimes it's hard to remember that I am physically female, that there is a difference. the fleshy bits on my chest really are barely there, although they're there enough to make me hate them on days when I feel really male. 
sometimes I wonder what passerbys label me as, do I appear even half as androgynous as I feel I do? I overthink when people hesitate to use gendered pronouns, are they really unsure? is it sad that this makes my day? even hardcore esl people who only use male pronouns tend to make my day. 
today was the first time I used the 'mens' public washroom thinking that it might be where I belong. I wasn't exactly sure if I should, but my mother actually urged me to (mainly because she didn't want to wait for me and the 'womens' was full. I doubt she even realized that this was a big step for me) is it sad that I really want to be able to pee standing up? being able to actually use the urinals would make me feel that much better about myself. I wish I knew if I was anywhere near passing. 

I feel like such a sap. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who realizes what today was. I might even be the only one counting. most likely. not that such small numbers really count. I mean, a month, that's nothing. except if it's time spent away... tomorrow. looks like this'll be a long, boring six weeks.. trying to survive might be a little hard. fuck, it'll be downright painful. just take it a day at a time..

<3 <3 

you are my way.

lying beneath a tree. in the tiny space of shade in the blazing heat. I look up into the branches, and they look less and less like just pieces of wood. this tree reminds me a little of my life. the trunk, knotted like the scars I've carried at one time or another. each branch, hundreds of them, on it's own path, none of them the least bit straight. every last one of them leads to a different piece of it's personality. some are broken and split, some strong and steady. each branch playing an important role to make this a tree instead of just another random object at the park. there are a few cobwebs, memories long forgotten, most likely never to be visited again. the sun doesn't reach through, allowing life beneath a chance to just be and not be bothered by harsh sunlight. 

the branches seem to intertwine with nearby trees. suddenly the spell is broken, there are things other than that tree and I. I look around and remember I'm not alone. I smile. our limbs are ever so slightly interwined, as are the trees above us. I'm hoping that it will last for even partially as long as our fawna counterparts. our roots will hopefully grow strong together, years of being so close. if only it were all as simple as trees. there are so many layers that it becomes way more difficult than it has to be. 

<3 <3         

going to the country, gunna eat a lot of peaches.

getting 100% so far on math things. guess I'm not failing like I though I was. he doesn't check to make sure that everything's right on homework. he just pretty much gives us marks on completion. and thankfully the quiz was pretty easy. although I think I'm actually getting it more than most of the class considering I was done the quiz by the time everyone else was finishing the first page or starting the second. and I managed to get 12/12 when most people got between 6-9/12. I think I found a way of learning this shit that works for me. I need a smaller class size (we have 15) and a teacher that can actually teach it in a way that I can connect with. meaning someone I can respect enough to actually listen to. mr.Booker jokes around with the class and generally just seems pretty chill. he also gives me pretty friendly vibes. then again I am kinda the one that tends to stand out, especially when I have friends in my class so I don't go into my shy bubble. basically I can pay attention in class and the stuff we learn manages to go through. don't know how, but it does. knew that part of my brain was somewhere, I did manage challenge in gr.9 (barely) and had all As in gr.8, so I do know that I can do math. just kinda sucks that it comes out once I'm in a class that I can only go to 50%

don't know what I'm going to do with the whole home situation. every time I want to do something, she uses it as bait to get me to do everything that she wants done. everything has to be done when she wants, no matter what or else she gets to just not let me do things. she wants on the computer, too bad if I have nowhere to do my homework. she wants me to pay for gas and shit and I don't have a job because I'm busy with school, too fucking bad, if I don't have a job by the end of the month I'm kicked out onto the streets. she wants to do nothing, I have to do dishes, take out the garbage, fix the shower, make sure she gets to watch all the movies she wants, put gas in the car, drive her around wherever she wants to go, get my friends to fix her technology, cook meals, read her mind, get a job, be her source of entertainment, go look for a place to buy, and anything else that pops into her head ON TOP of all my schoolwork and school time. no idea how that's going to be possible. and somehow I have to get headshots taken for free so I can go in to see some modeling agency that's interested in me even though I'm not interested in modeling. just when I thought it was summer and I could relax. 

not sure if it's my allergies or what, but my one eye keeps tearing up and it's bloody annoying. speaking of allergies, think I got bit by something. have a lump on my leg. if it gets more infected I'll have to start draining puss. is it sad that I've done it som many times, and every time it leaves less noticable scarring than the one time I went to the hospital and got them to drain it. 

<3 <3  

I laugh myself to sleep, it's my lullaby.

summer school day one. fuck. I already get a few questions wrong on homework. how the fark am I going to do well on the quiz on it tomorrow morning? just three more days this week.. and only two days of learning, Friday being test day and all. why does math have to be so hard? I get the general concepts, but the numbers fuck me up and I end up making all sorts of stoopid mistakes and I have no idea where I went wrong. this is exactly why classroom setting does not work for me. I need someone to work through it with me one-on-one. just hoping I can squeeze by with a pass for this summer. tests aren't worth as much though. tests are like.. 40something %, quizzes another like... 30something, and the rest is homework. but if I can't even do all that well in just the homework I might've screwed... the bitch says to stay after and get help, but I don't know what I need help on. it's just random mistakes I shouldn't be making and I don't know how to catch. I know basically what to do, just don't do it step by step every time and forget what I'm missing...

pride stuff. so for sure going in the parade. with Sydney and maybe Amos. trying to get other people to go to. only problem is that the tsawwassen crew going, is going with darsey. meaning they won't go in the parade (makes sense since it's her first pride) but also, awkwardness for meeting up after. should I be trying to repair our friendship at least one more time? but I've been trying for six months and gotten nowhere, so really it's up to her now. this is just tiring. just got over one of these awkward things that lasted over a year. about a year and a half. now there's still this one. and it's been over six months for something completely minor compared to with ferring. if he can want to be friends again, then she should be able to suck it up. just really hoping this doesn't try to ruin my pride. 

still have no idea what to do. guess I'm winging it. improv romance. hoshizz, prepare for overflow of cheese?? is it bad that I'm this nervous? I just want everything to be perfect. but what is perfect?

<3 <3 

discover me discovering you.

somehow everything's my fault. I wake up around 11 and I'm ready by 1.30-2ish when my mother says she wants to go the first time. then she decides she needs to put pictures on facebook right then and when she's ready at 4 she gets pissed I wasn't ready waiting for her. I'm not going to just wait for over 2 hours. then she proceeds to blame it all on my not being ready on time and how I'm not able to get ready when she wants to go ALL FREAKING DAY LONG. things are closed/closing: my fault, she can't find something: my fault, I can't read her mind: my fault. FUCKKKK. it wouldn't even matter if this was a one-time thing or anything like that, but it happens every day. I've been living with it my whole life and I'm so fucking tired of it. one more year and I'll find a way to get out and be living away. I don't even care if I have to have a bunch of roommates again, just as long as it's not my mother.

at least I still haven't had to go grad dress shopping. kinda hoping my that she just forgets about that for long enough for me to figure out what I want to do and try to come out to my family. it would be great if my family was behind me in my whole purple tailcoat shinanigans. doubt it'll happen, but might be worth a try. 

summer school starting up. scared shitless. spending a couple hours a day learning about math is fucking bulshit. but the government is made up of a bunch of pricks who like to torture kids and make them need such high levels of math that they'll never use. fucking idiots. don't exactly know if I'll be needing a graphing calculator or not, but I borrowed one from the twins and there's games on it for if I get too bored. at least heather's there to make it all bareable.

everything is pride today. no clue why, or where exactly this came from, July 4th being a huge day for pride, but I won't complain. morrismore models has a float :) alternative models on a pride float just sounds like an amazing time. feel like I should be working in my "I'm a real boy" shit, but I'm too much if a lazy fuck. instead, I'll just think about it. maybe even make something rainbow tomorrow. everything is queer and nothing hurts.

so this morning I wake up to see that one of my old best friends wants to be friends again. we kinda had a huge falling out when his boyfriend at the time kept getting me drunk/ high and we'd end up sleeping together. when he found out he would have his friends attack me with phone calls, messages online, and even loud conversations aimed at me when they saw me in town. at first he even physically attacked me, leaving me in fear of what he'd do if we weren't on school property. I knew with all the rings he wore he'd actually turned a kid's face into hamburger meat before I met him. after a year and a half of this, he wants to be friends again. one side of me just wants to share the love and leave things in the past and be friends and not worry about the past since we're both different people. then there's this other side of me that wants to be cautious. it wants to keep protected incase this is just another trick to humiliate me. it doesn't want to forget, and may never forgive. I don't even know what to do anymore. I told him maybe we'd catch up or something. we'll see what happens. it shouldn't be this hard.

there isn't much time. about half the week. somehow I have to come up with something spectacular to remember for the six weeks, I just have no clue what. it would help if it weren't swelteringly hot all the freaking time. the nikki needs to think.

<3 <3    

there's so much that time cannot erase.

looks like summer's sticking around. literally sticking. everything's hot and muggy and gross. as much as I just want to get rid of everything so I don't have fuckloads to pack every time we move, I need to go shopping. there is no way in hell I can deal the whole summer with my tiny amounts of male summer clothes. I honestly only have a bunch of tshirts and a couple pairs of basketball shorts. shopping. by myself. with enough money to actually buy a few things. needs to happen. it's just too awkward with anyone there since they know what I physically am and will silently judge me on stuff... I get weirded out by people judging my gender. it makes me way too uncomfortable and I tend to just want to leave the situation altogether. 

might do a big clean-out tomorrow. I have so much useless crap around my room I haven't even looked at since we lived in tsawwassen. plus I need to orginize enough to actually be able to live in my room and focus. although I don't want to bother going through my crap that's still in boxes since I just have to repack sometime soon anyways. if my mom wants to buy a place and move this summer then there's no point at all of unpacking. if that doesn't happen I'll be gone in just over a year hopefully, so I could unpack, but leaving things in boxes wouldn't be the end of the world. maybe I've just gotten to the point where my room holds to many memories in the belongings, but the space has changed so much and has no meaning. I just want to get rid of the stuff and live entirely in new, emotionless territory. maybe try to redefine me with the statement my room makes. maybe I just wish I could paint and decorate the way I want instead of just trying to fill up the space before I move again.

one more day before getting back into a slight routine for summer school. at least being in summer school I have some time everyday away from my mother. I have some time to just get away and work on something productive. if I'm lucky it'll also give me the freedom to go do things with friends afterwards. that is if I'm lucky. it's just a pain that it has to be math that I go to for over 2 hrs a day. for nineteen days. 

<3 <3   

I dream about you, woman.

the heat. it's killing me slowly. not quite slowly.. some days I just want to run naked through a water park. then I remember 1. I hate my body and try to cover it as much as possible 2. pretty much all my summer clothes are kinda extreme female and it makes me want to die 3. I want tea all the time even though it's boiling and I can't help it.

dresses and shizz. my mother wants to go grad dress shopping. my great aunt wants to buy my dress, shoes, and anything else I want to wear as a grad present. my grandma wants to make sure I have the prettiest dress in my grad class. is it too late to start telling them I just really want to wear a tux. or at the very least wear a dress shirt, blazer, and bowtie over a dress to screw around completely with gender boxes. but I really want hardcore heeled boots. lace-up boots. they will be gorgeous. 

holy fucknuts. I'm actually gr.12 and this is weird and I don't even know. just have to make it through the summer. I figured out just how much I hate summer today and why. two months. pretty much all spent alone with my mother. strict rules since she's always there. get dragged around to the states and random shizz. I end up doing everything and get no credit or anything while she sits on her ass and complains about everything. everything has to be about her. take a break and go places with friends?? sounds like a plan. if only I can get my mother to agree to let me go. fuck, I need a job in order for her to let me do anything. can jobs just magically appear for me like RIGHT NOW?!?!?!? 

there's that awkward point where you want to spend like.. every moment with someone but you're afraid of seeming super clingy so you just don't up talking to them much but it's killing you to not be with them. it really sucks. girls confuse me. can they come with manuals so you know when they want to see you or talk to you so you don't end up that smothering dork? or else end up playing it cool and trying to not seem like you care what happens all that much so they think you're not completely crazy and overpowering. lalalalalala. I mean... no, I never have that much emotion. bitches love emotionless dorks. 

<3 <3 

there are no raindrops on roses or girls in white dresses.

just kinda realized it's already been about 4-6 weeks since I cut my hair. it's already grown at least an inch. I'm gunna have to decide what I want to do with it pretty soon. yes, my mom wants me to grow it out, but she's thinking to look all girly pretty for grad. the only reason I'd want to grow it out is so it's long enough to dread after grad. honestly, this time next year I'll be walking into knotty boy and getting it done. but on the other hand it'll have that awkward in-between lengths thing. and I might end up having a weird mullety thing for awhile. that means miniponytails every day. so maybe I should just keep it short until after grad, then grow it a bit so it's at least three inches. preferably a good five of six since my hair is all super soft and straight,  which makes dreads staying in my hair all that much more difficult. I don't even know.

good tsawwassen day. finally met eamon. we are going to be pretty tight, I can tell already. don't know if he'll end up one of the people I can REALLY talk to, but at least he thinks I can win in a fight against maddy. that and he doesn't question my manliness. that's pretty much a best friend in my books right now. there is a definite bromance starting there. 

ended up finding the creepiest toy on the face of earth. it's a mcdick's toy from 2005 and its tummy has a mouth that opens and closes. it's a tummy nom. makes my life a little bit.

the gender crisis continues. not only do I not exactly know how to explain my 'gender' to people without sounding completely insane, but I just keep thinking about how for years I've been thinking of myself as one of the men of my family. there's my grandpa, my uncle, and me. this is confusing for me. I refer to myself as genderless or even genderqueer sometimes, but I feel I connect with the title of male more. male pronouns mostly. gender-neutral or male pronouns are the only ones that feel right. female ones just seem a little like a slap in the face. it just really bugs me that so many people I hang out with have pretty much labeled me as the girl who wishes she was a boy, when I feel more like a boyish human who happens to be in a female body. a very female body. today a lady was talking about us and said girls and I honestly felt like I might just have to explain that we really weren't 'girls' at all. took quite a bit to just ignore and keep looking for the backing for my 12g. the worst part is, no matter how much more I connect with my male side, I've gotten so used to desplaying my female side that it's almost impossible to break out of. even appearing completely androgynous is difficult most of the time. all I really want is for people to wonder which end of the gender spectrum I more represent. that just gets shattered everytime I see people and they call me by female pronouns and such. so I kinda just want to pass as androgynous to male, yet I always seem to be seen as female. fucking anatomy. AND THE FLESHY BITS ON MY CHEST!!! they should just go die and be replaced by pecs, but they insist on just chilling and adding to the "fuck you, deal with female body now." the only thing about being male-bodied I wouldn't like is the genitals. I want the muscles, the deep voice, the facial hair, the flag chest, ect. 

<3 <3   

I like my coffee black just like my metal.

I go to tsawwassen and then in a matter of hours they have me turned into another person. someone I thought I'd got away from being. I've managed to get my nails painted with patterny girliness, watch the qwanoes video from camp like.. 5 years ago, and remember pretty much all the actions to all the songs. what is this? 

there's this one side fighting to stay away from this whole side of myself. it just wants to be without dealing wit any of that shit. but then there's that side that just wants to give in.
fuckk. maybe it's just easier to just stay in one world instead of trying to fit in the middle of the two. it just hurts too much trying to go between all these groups of friends in differnet places. there's only so many different people I can be. and when I'm trying to figure out who the fuck I am without all the masks it doesn't help. 

I don't understand digimon. honestly, what the flying fuck? maybe if I watched the actual tv show, but from the movie I'm completely lost. everything moves way too fast and everything's way too cheesey to be normal. plus they screw up the actual Japanese versions. 

too tired. curl up in ball. die a little bit. wonder how the fuck I ended up being friends with these people, wish I could just relive a couple hours over and over and make them last forever. it would be glorious. but that's not gunna happen, so off to dream about it??

<3 <3