call on me brother, when you need a hand.

random injuries. honestly he doesn't know how some of this shit happens. bruises along his thigh, don't remember doing anything to do damage over that much area. same thigh feels like the muscles are practicaly frozen and any movement will crack them. then he gets the steamer to the point where it's boiling over and it's too far gone to turn off safely so he has to take the milk jug out from underneath it and turn it off with hot air blowing at him. somewhere along the way some of the overboiled liquid burnt his skin. guess which hand? same side as the leg. he needs to be less of a clutz most of the time, that might be what kills him.

going into grade 12 he should feel something: fear, happiness, dread, something. he should care about the shit he'll be doing almost every day for the next (and final) school year. there should be some emotion or some feeling where he realizes that after this, he has to figure out his shit. the only thing he can manage to feel is empty. it won't go through his mind that all of it's coming to an end. then he thinks about grad events and such, all they make him feel is dysphoria. he wants to scream at them all that he's not the girl they've tried to tell him he is. he sees his class schedule and doesn't connect with half of it, he doesn't have any interest is a good portion of that crap. he's mentally done with the school system, with high school. the only problem is that he still has to deal with the drama, the bullshit, the teachers who couldn't care less, and everything that comes with a corrupt school system for one more year. at this point he doesn't care if he doesn't have a prom or any of that, he just doesn't want to have to deal with fucking idiot teachers who don't know what they're doing. he's just done.

<3 <3 

party on the rooftop, end of the world.

24 hours can change everything. he woke up ready to take on the world, daring it to throw whatever at him. he wasn't expecting it to really do so. he wasn't expecting to have to share his final year of highschool at the same school as his mother. he was finally ready to start asking teachers to refrain from using female pronouns for him, now he isn't so sure, he doesn't know if he can still feel at peace in a place overrun by his mother. he wasn't expecting to get off work to see his mother's ex, to have to take that trip into the past and feel everything that has happened all over again. he wasn't expecting to see that slideshow from his brother's funeral after almost three years and still not be able to listen to the song mad world without bawling, especially when seeing his brother's bright blue eyes filling the screen. he wasn't expecting them to get drunk to the point where they were all gropey and sloppy and coupley, to the point where things were too uncomfortable for him to be in the area. 
he didn't really mean it when he thought he was ready for anything. nothing like that could've ever been prepared for. then he has to wake up, go to work, and think about them working out together the whole time he's gone. he needs a break, a chance to get away from it all for a few hours. he doesn't know how many tears he has left for the next little while. 

everyone seems to have run away. he finds himself alone, one week left of summer, and everyone is gone away or in a couple bubble. mostly everyone. the few who aren't he never seems to be able to get ahold of. 

he just wants to nestle into a pile of warm, soft... kittens. he wants to sleep forever, to dream of an alternate universe where everything works out just the way it should. every waking moment ruins that fanatasy of the perfect world. he tries to see all of that in the shit he does every bloody day. 

<3 <3  

in the aftermath.

everyone's raging about the whole gaga/jo thing. honestly, it's refreshing to see someone who claims to stand for something go through with it. with born this way gaga had a lot to live up to being the queen of the lgbt community. now that there's Jo in the picuture, gaga has that bi-gendered edge to speak right into the heart of minorities. people should respect gaga so much more now that she's bringing lesser know minorities into Hollywood, even if it does end up being just a show to get attention, at least there is some hope of acceptance  in the future if the mainstream is introduced to more variations of gender. now just keeping it up so that people will lose the shock and accept bi-gendered as a legit gender identity. here's hoping for a brighter future.

he starts to think back, trying to see the signs. does it fit that their last kiss was at a bus stop, a place where people stop before heading off in all different directions? he keeps running over that afternoon again and again. they were happy, safe from reality for just a few hours before returning to the real world. he takes a deep breath to stop the image. he has to fight the urge to wonder what he could've done differently, but then it hits him. he realizes that in a way he should be thanking her, he would've just tried to draw out every last bit of life and leave it to the point where there would be no possible way to salvage any bit of a friendship from the wreckage. in a way she saved things. nothing lasts forever, especially not when you're 16 or 17. he should know better. it's just that sometimes the overwhelming urge to feel someone else's flesh beneath his fingertips, to feel wanted and loved, gets the best of him. he finds it impossible to really connect with someone without some form of physical touch so he learns to crave it. that leads to dangerous things sometimes.

there are times he feels that he completely clears himself of emotions, where he seems almost robotic. other times his emotions are too big for his tiny frame. it would be nice if he had a middle ground, some place where he could have average emotions all the time intead of the rise and fall. the amount of emotion also tends to go with the amount of physical touch. the more he can connect with people, the more he can feel emotions, without that touch he loses the ability to really feel much of anything at all, until a breaking point when it all boils over and he feels everything at once, only the most horrible of emotions. he just needs to keep connected to people on a constant basic to keep grounded. 

<3 <3     

my baby's gone even though I held her tight.

he saw it coming, yet it came out of nowhere. the little paranoid bits of his brain actually were right for once. he wants to say it hurts, but that wouldn't be the right word. he just feels.. empty, like there is nothing in him, nothing left to feel the pain. he should feel something but he doesn't. self pity? no, anger? no, lonliness, no more than usual. all he really feels is the overwhelming desire to help her, to make sure she's okay, to be there if she needs someone to talk to. he just wants her to be happy. 

the fuzzies tell him he's worthless, he never deserved her in the first place, he's lucky she stuck around as long as she did. he believes them for some reason, he tries to be a better person, someone worthy of some sort of resipricated love. 

if there is something else he feels, it's that he's a dumbass. at least he didn't go through with his plans. at least he didn't tell her he loves her just to be told she's done. his gut told him not to, not yet. his gut saved him. 

he was never used to being vulnerable, but every moment spent with her he was, and it was in the best way possible. she taught him more than he could have ever thought. no doubt, she will continue to do so. the one thing he hopes is that things can still be somewhat normal, that they can be friends without it being completely awkward. losing a girlfriend is one thing, losing a good friend is another, one that it is a hell of a lot harder to deal with. 

already everyone just wants to talk about it, he has nothing to talk about. he wants what's best for her, she can't do it. end of story. 

<3 <3    

I'm tired of laying down alone.

so he waits another day, letting time pass by even though he doesn't have much left. he lets every bit of energy he has left recharge so that he can be focused. it's the first time in a while that he has that chance. it seems everyone around him is pretty much ready, he still can't wrap his mind around the fact that summer's almost over, it feels like it hasn't even begun. every day is just a chore, babysitting his mother to keep her as much out of trouble as he can. it gets to be too much sometimes. he needs time off for his own life, his job, breathing. he doesn't know what to do on days like today where she drinks about 3 or 4 coolers, drops piles of dirt on the floor without cleaning them up, makes him stay and watch tv with her instead of getting things done by the deadline. she gets unreasonable and he needs to get away. 

he finds a santuary in tumblr, finding others who have genders just as messed up as his own. he feels their pain, their dysphoria, their hearts breaking. they understand. he just needs to belong under some umbrella for once and live in a way that can be more easily discribed to those who aren't as knowledgeable about the trans* community. that's the worst part, trying to explain who he is, how he feels in his soul. trying to work up the guts to tell anyone who doesn't already know. 

the morning will bring him new hope, a hope at seeing her, a hope at not completely wasting a weekend. he also hopes he can manage to pull off a plan to fit everything in before the final school year starts. he's worried, his mother applied to work at his school and he's hoping someone, anyone with more seniority applies so she doesn't get it. he would die if she worked so close, school is his escape from it all. without that space he has nothing, no mental focus, nothing he can talk about, no thoughts floating through his head. it wouldn't quite be worth it at all. 

<3 <3  

bang, bang, bang on the door, baby.

older girls, he never really though about them all that much before this movie shoot. then there was the hairstylist with the piercing eyes and the crew chick with her boyish charm. then, out of nowhere, the latter gives her phone number to him.
out of 120-something extras, 16 cast members, and around 100 crew he managed to notice her and realize that he wanted to spend some time talkig to her. the first day he comes back from his first time on the set and goes to find a number to place his cup on. looking for 42, he starts talking to her a little. from then, he knew he had to actually talk to her. every time he went to or from set for the two days he managed to end up seeing her. they exchanged those awkward "you know I'm gay and I know you are" smiles. she showed him that she had the matching socks to the mustache ones he bought from wordrobe, told him she was okay with the gender fuckery of him taking a crown instead of a tiara, all these little moments that didn't seem to be all that much. finally on his way out for the last time, she was collecting tiaras and crowns, she made him wait for a second and gave him her number and name for facebook. she put in the effort to write it all down before, like she was planning that moment. and that mumbly, adorable awkwardness of rambling about how he could add her on facebook or whatever if he wanted and didn't think it was creepy. out of all those people she went to the trouble just for him... he felt special. maybe once he turns 19 they could spend more time together, when they can both get into the clubs and stuff.

another night without dinner. the downside of being on set, only a late lunch with nothing on crafty when you get back from set. he wishes he grabbed stuff before they left for him to munch on between camera views or scenes. late nights and not enough meals are starting to get to him. tired and hungry is default.

<3 <3      

because I'm standing still.

almost twelve hours of working on set and he's ready to sleep for days. but no, he has to be back out there in the morning. his eyes won't let him stay awake, yet he's still mentally sending her messages about how much of a dumbass he is for getting suckered into selling his soul to Disney. 

he wishes he could make it all go away and spend the time curled up next to her. if only he could change the world. 

morp. he got a morp date fairly quickly. she may be a gryffindor, but she's still entertaining. the amount of dancing might've just killed him a little though. not enough hydration. funny how little effort they put into making him look morp ready, he wore almost the same thing to queer prom. 

if only crafty had cold drinks..

<3 <3  

the walls line the bullet holes.

it happens again. this may become a yearly thing. he makes plans to see someone for the first time practically all summer, then he gets called to set and his mother says yes when she knows he has plans. only this time it's worse. he has to be stuck wearing dresses ALL DAY LONG. for two whole days. then again, between the job and the set he does make about $250 in two weeks. not too bad. 
he feels like he's selling his soul. he takes it and provides disney with more fucking teens for slutty little 8-year-olds to idolize. he will never be proud of that. he provides the 'family' of Disney with an opportunity to force cis-genderedism on a queer little boi. he should be protesting, helping the children of tomorrow realize that it's okay not to be like the rest of them, that gayo is okayo. instead he'll smother his feelings and drag along his sketchbook to pass the time, give his something to do so he doesn't have to talk to those other Disney idiots. then he'll raid crafty.

all day, all he's really wanted to do is see her, take her by the hand and find a place where it's just them. he misses her so much he doesn't know quite how to deal with it anymore. he wants to share moments with her that he never really had with anyone else. he wants to bond with the curling smoke of an incense stick. that's all he can think of, what he can't get off his mind. he wants to find a way to comunicate and have every word completely understood. he wants her to know that she means more to him than he ever thought possible. 

on his adventure he came across a rather queer scene. a squirrel wanted to get down from a tree and roam about. there was a cat lazing around the bottom of said tree. all of a sudden, as he was passing by, the squirrel started screeching bloody murder to scare away the cat. still it stayed, eye fixated on its pray. after a good 5minutes of this game a second squirrel came to join the first. now there were two in the tree, trying to clear their path below. no matter what they were to do, the cat would not budge. with a soft chuckle, he continued on his way. 

<3 <3 

with a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you.

he is a dork. he knows this, he knows that his self esteem is low enough that at the slightest chance of something going really wrong and people turning on him he thinks it to be true. yet he believes the things his mind says. he really doesn't even know why, it just kind of happens. 
he's so used to people toying with him and trying to make him miserable he doesn't quite know how to trust that not everyone will be the same. he finds it hard to believe people would stick around. he's always half-expecting someone to just flee from his life out of nowhere. 

he is scared. he doesn't know if she can feel the same way about him if she knows that he actually identifies as mostly male. he doesn't know how anyone will take it, but he's most worried about her. family has to stick with him even if they don't take it well, but she could just decide it's too much and leave. there's more risk, more that he could lose if she can't just be okay with it. his mouth just won't form the words, it believes that it's protecting him, but every day that passes with "she/her/girl/ect" makes him lose a little bit more of himself. he's beginning to be burried under all the false pretences, burried alive. 

the rain throughout the whole day made him want to get outside. he misses the days when he could just go out in the rain and not care how wet he got. the days when he could just lay down and watch the raindrops fall down onto his face. he wants to feel that freedom again, to feel the drops wash away all the bad in the world before it eats him up. he wants to be out when it's raining so hard that no one can tell if he's crying or just being rained on. on the other hand he just misses the cover of night, being on beaches and burning incense and connecting with the world. he misses the peace of a time spent with only the stars, the moon, and maybe another person or two. that kind of bond is bigger than any that can form in daylight. 

<3 <3  

faking a smile, in denial, the damage is done.

the last 24 hours he's been told more people love him than any other day of his life. the funny part is that with so many girls trying to cheer him up all that's come from it is a few hugs and a smattering of fake pasted-on smiles so they can feel they did something. they just can't seem to fill that hole left in his heart, the yerning for her. he just waits for the sound of her voice, the air to settle in a way that he can feel the oxygen actually going into his lungs. he'll wait and wait. there doesn't seem to be much hope that that day will come. he doesn't want to admit it to himself but it seems clear that he did something, he doest know what, and now he's blown it. he'll see her in the halls every once in a while, sit in a classroom she happens to be in, and he'll pull on a mask so no one can see the tears his soul needs to shed. boys aren't allowed to cry, so why should he? no one will know about the tears already shed. he keeps secrets between himself and his stuffed animal family. 

somehow he knew he would eventually fuck up. he just didn't think it would be something he can't even figure out. he didn't think it would be bad enough to keep her from keeping any communication. he didn't think it would end like this. he needs to know, needs to wrap his mind around what demon lives within. they tell him he deserves better, that he will find someone who is good enough eventually. they don't know anything. they don't know the way he found home, for the first time since he left his of almost 7 years, in her arms. they don't know how her soul speaks to his. they don't bother to see at all. they make him angry. she may be done with him, but he will go down to the grave defending her, trying to make her see just how special she is. he'll wait for the day where she might just reach out and grab his hand once again, if it be platonic or not.

he just keeps hoping it's all a joke, that someone will pop out and explain that it was something everyone was in on. or that it was a dream that if he waits long enough, he will wake from and things will return to the way they were. he might be kept waiting, waiting for a long while. he checks the clock, checks his phone, email, and facebook for her name in his inbox. every time it comes back with none. he reloads and refreshes every few seconds, hoping to find something new, something to piece together this puzzel he just can't seem to solve. 

<3 <3 

the weather today is slightly sarcastic.

the heat of summer finally arrives and he doesn't know what to do with himself. he has never been one for the summer and the sun. this summer, there's the added concern of trying to pull off a more masculine presentation. the heat keeps forcing him to show little bits of skin, the job forces him to be all girly and friendly and most days to achieve that he ends up wearing an actual bra. he doesn't feel attatched to his body anymore, it's as if it is this whole other person that he's trying to get along with. he just can't do it, the body is eating him alive. he's learnt to enjoy his free time by himself. his alone time let's him forget he's put in the body, lets him believe the body he inhabits is the one in his dreams. sleep is still that one place he can feel completely at home. 

he racks his brains for an answer, for a reason. eventually the only conclution he can come to is that people have their own lives, they don't revolve around him, people don't sit around all day to talk to him. they all go away, they take off for places he could never imagine unless he sees. he wishes he could see what they see. he wishes he could go on adventures in beautiful lands with his two best bros. he wishes he could see anyone really, the vacation is starting to get to him. he needs to come out of his summertime hermit shell before it's too late. 

the week ahead has no plans, no ideas, nothing to keep a set schedule. this scares him, he doesn't know what to do without at least a basic structure. the OCD in him is going crazy trying to keep things as orderly as possible. he's one step away from exploding, the point where everything just seems out of control and out of repairability. he's preparing for the big breakdown. the changes are as numerous as the tears are plentiful. Teddy bears don't fix anything, sometimes the only way to defuse the situation is to have the real thing. human flesh seems like the only thing warm enough to melt through. 

<3 <3 

what day is it, and in what month?

somehow things work out and he doesn't know how. he just needs his sleep to figure something out. it's all a cloudy mess in his head at this point. he doesn't know anything beyond where his own two feet are and that the heavy feeling is his eyelids trying to close.

he goes through everything in his mind. that image is just a little distorted. he thinks himself stronger, more manly. he thinks himself taller and not so skinny and with a flatter chest. he thinks life could be just like what we dream. 

the room starts to spin, he blinks, trying to keep breathing. but breathing isn't the problem, it's staying awake. 

<3 <3   

you're coming, you're coming on home.

everything is starting to feel a little more normal for him. he likes routine, he likes having set rules to guide him. it helps him to make sense of this bullshit called life. even if it's only four hours a day of work, as it gets more familiar it'll be more and more like a home. so far he's actually started to talk and try to have legit conversations, not just prove he's a fucking hard worker. 
serving coffee to the boss was his greatest challenge, by some miracle the espresso turned out perfect for once. he thinks he understands the coffee. he can connect with it, make it do the things he wants. they connect.

the tears that roll down his cheeks tell him he's still alive. everything is starting to just go well for him again. he wishes he could say they are happy tears, but that would make sense. he doesn't know where they come from, why they're here, just that he's tired of everything and just wants to make it through the shit until he's home or somewhere even closer to him.  

some days he wonders why he even does it anymore. the sheer amount of sleeplessness shouldve been enough to make him collapse. he keeps getting up and pasting a perminant smile upon his face. maybe there's something in coffee that can be like caffiene through scent. it's the only thing keeping him up and alive.

<3 <3  

it kinda looks just like you.

he wants to just close his eyes and see her. nothing else really matters anymore. he will keep dragging day to day, making coffee pretending he's ok. he just wants human contact, the kind where you feel like someone really cares about what you're saying and you feel special. he's tired of feeling like he is just an extra, unwanted person. he wants the kind of contact where souls meet. 

he wants to break down barriers and not feel a thing. he wants to go with every gut feeling without holding back. he wants to go back and just drink, those were always good days. maybe he's just lonely, maybe he needs a break from being a full-time child in a two person family. dreams are the only way to escape. 

<3 <3 

you know, we've done this all before.

so he escapes one more time. he gets away from the piles of fucking dresses, just barely grazing all the frilly little tank tops and such. actually he doesn't mind the skirt added to his wardrobe, it's just crazy enough to be drag worthy. he had family actually suggest he get clothes from the male side of the store (even if said family member didn't realize it was a male section), and actually bought it after they found out. because he wasn't dykey enough without plaid to match his attetion-grabbing green boots. 

some days it's easier to go to a mall in the states than in Canada. hot topic is like the haven where everyone loves him and understands him and wants to embark on the same journeys as him. there is no better therapy than a trip there. he just wishes for once he could get a chance to go in by himself so he could get some bigger plugs and actually look at the stuff he wants without pressure. 

he realized once again just how much he has evolved to not handle meats. just a trace of beef in his food and he's violently projectile vomiting for a good half hour. it's almost scary, that is without eating any actual meat, just residue. almost makes him wonder if he should be more careful about his diet and start making all his meals so he knows exactly what goes into them. but he's lazy so he figures that will never happen.

<3 <3 

think the whole world would have changed.

and just like that he is thrust into the working world, he is a working man. there he thinks all hope may be lost in being able to afford an expensive year ahead of him, then his prayers seem to be answered. he may be able to go to Ashland again this coming year if he manages his finances well. he may be able to pay for it himself. everything seems to be coming together quite nicely.

he seems those shiney green boots in his closet, taunting him. now he can take them down from the shelf and wear them around. he has the freedom to wear such awesomeness. it's a good feeling. everything is wonderful. 

the day ahead will be one of the most important yet. he will be finding out what the next few months at least of his life will be filled with, what he can depend on, how things work. needless to say he is excited beyond what he has ever been before. breathing gets a little difficult. this is what happens when a boi's first REAL job is something that he loves so much, he lucked out. just hoping it doesn't get to be too much being a 24hour cafe. but they know his hours, that he can't work overly late. 

it just hits him, he'll need to work at least two or three shifts a week most weeks to afford the grad events and Ashland and random days with friends. then he still doesn't know if it will be enough, but he can hope. one to fours shifts a week is what she said, hopefully it's more towards two and up. but four might be a bit much. he'll see how it goes. big days ahead. 

he wants to tell her, to celebrate with her, to be with her at the very least. the only problem with that is that his training is every morning from the day she gets back to two days after. hopefully they can work something out so he can see her or at least talk to her within a day or two of her being home. everything happens at once. 

<3 <3  

hold me tight, tell me I'm the only one.

cinnimon teas are the best things in the world. honestly, not only do they taste like sex but they also actually give me energy unlike most teas. only problem is that after a cup at like midnight, I'm not thinking I'll get much sleep. shall now go on a big tea hunt to find the best teas. dear gods, my tea collection has gotten to the point where it seems like Ramona Flowers'. this is both amazing and terrifying. 

he sees the world in a dofferent light when not thinking about his own life. his friends come to him with their problems and he suddenly turns into a fountain of relationship advice. any queer issues and he's found a way to either take their mind off it or work it out. yet the school won't let him take psychology. he wants to help, to make each soul's life a better place. he's being denied the things he actually wants from the education system. so he looks forward to a year of being allowed access to the school library to do all sorts of research on his own. he'll show them that he's capable of education without their help. he's looking forward to not having quite so much on his plate so that he can afford the time for his own research. 

this summer he's begun to realize some changes he has gone through with so much time away from everyone. he has entered a whole new level of flaming, it's almost surprising he hasn't burst into flames. he's put all the useless time doing nothing into being dedicated to certain things, things he has yet to come out about to more than a very select group of people. most of all he's grown to love life. there is a purpose and things seems clearer than ever, he finally has the strength to put as much of the depression and self-harm as he can in the past. the battles may not be over, but for now at least, he's winning. big time.

as the days to count down get smaller and smaller he gets more excited. he can't wait to let everything fall into place, to fall for her all over again. his skin tingles at the thought of her being to close in such short time. four short days before halfway around the world turns into a mere 15 minutes away. he can hardly think about much else.

<3 <3 

it's all confidencial.

there's a slight pitter patter outside his window, the aftermath of a great day. he rests his tired body after hours of cheering the girls on. roller derby's birthday is officially over for the year, but the love of derby lives on. the bout will remain in his memory for a good amount of time. the cheering has taken a bit of a toll on his throat. his legs and arms almost too sore to move until he opens his tired eyes once again after a peaceful slumber. 
he will remember the young children who were fully decorated in pussycat gear. he wishes he had family to get him involved at that age, parents that would be willing to spend upwards of $70 on gear for him to look cool at the bouts. hell, he wishes that he could get the $45 to buy the pivotstar sleeveless hoodie he's been wanting for about 9 months. 
he wishes he could make the time fly so he could join the ranks of the tcrg crew and be an official part of the family. 19 is still two seasons away. by season 7 he'll be going to the afterparties, season 8, he'll be a pussycat just like he always dreamed. two more years and he'll be about to try out for fresh meat. 
roller derby is the lesbian national sport. he doesn't know what to do in a room filled with so many gorgeous lezzies :) 

he wishes she was by his side, living in that moment with him. he wishes he could be cheering them on while still holding her hand. mostly, he wishes that he could introduce her to this part of him that allows him to actually love something completely. he'll have to wait. he's waiting, hoping that she'll somehow get a chance to talk to him before she comes home. he hopes that everything goes well and that she'll really be home when she said she would. he can't wait much longer, the excitement is killing him. 

<3 <3 

and Friday I'm in love.

his heart pounds. one week, so close, yet so far away. he can almost close his eyes and be that week away. the only problem is that when he closes his eyes it's just an image, he doesn't really have her in his arms. with six weeks distance he doesn't know what exactly to expect. he knows that his heart will be completely happy for the first time since she left, that he can't wait. he doesn't know just how exactly those emotions will play out with his mind, if he'll come to a conclution on the question pondering his mind this whole time. and will he finally grow the balls to start actually living life outside of his head as who he really is?one week, and he's a nervous wreck.

the grandmother points out every girly pair of shoes she can find, she tries to convince him that he would look amazing in thigh high boots and a short skirt, tries to get him into see through blouses. he shutters. how does he tell her without breaking her heart that he doesn't want anything to with any of that crap? and make it stick so she doesn't just try again next time. then he looks inside himself and sees there is this part of him who wants to prance around in feathers and glitter and crazy patterns that could only be pulled off by the most hipster girlies. he wants to run barefoot through forests and watch the flowy layers fly behind him. he wants to fuck everyone over and combine earthy elements with rainbows and neon fishnets and combat boots tougher than bulls. then there are times he just wants to go drool over ties he'll never get the chance to wear. these things that are forbidden by society, by his family, by the wondering eye. 

a recent conversation with a friend lead him to thinking, what is this all anyways? why do we fight so hard to plan every moment of our lives and be told what to do by people who believe themselves superior? we could just go, keep moving, keep jumping trains and crashing on floors of beautiful strangers. we could forget the world of technology and live away from the ugliness of humanity. we could make it easy, make it beautiful. we are taught to conform and take part in these atrocities. that friend makes it all seem so possible, gives him a hope of ever letting the world take control of him and breaking all the fucking limits that society has placed on him. there is a hope to let happiness provail. he feels a little bad about it, but he missed this friend, one of his best friends. he watched them fall deep into the pits of love and couple bubbles. he had all their conversations turn to pointless words exchanged to try and keep a friendship burning bright. they are done, want out, and now he has his friend again, the one who makes the future seem like a good place. this is the one who can make his passion for life explode. it's good to have that again.

<3 <3       

heart, you're so jet lagged.

the tortured soul knows no other path. it believes there is only suffering and nothing else can compare to it's hardships. it cannot believe that another soul could've gone through anything quite as tramatic as what it has been through. the pain is lurking behind every smile and the tears hide behind every sunshine. there is one place where the soul can be at peace, take down the barriers of pain and fear. this place is where the soul can just be, without any worries about the future or the continuous bullshit it will still be put through. the chains and gags become a welcome part of life, this is how the souls knows it is truely tortured. this is how the mind is completely lost. sometimes it just hurts so good. 

his mind goes back to every memory including that title: suckerpunch. rewatching makes him rememer the little things, the little jokes made the first time around, the conversations about who wanted to go see it, the actual feeling of the mind being suckerpunched that the movie gives. it's beautiful. he doesn't want to let go of the way it makes him feel, the raw mix of being turned on and knowing something that feels like a high form of intelligence. he knows that he'll have to close his eyes and let it slide away. he knows that he'll just wake to a day of a totally different pace. he knows that he is risking a lot in the morning, putting it on the line to try and get a faster start at his working life. he doesn't want to think about it anymore, the nerves are eating him away.

his heart tells him not to get overly excited that there's only a week left, but his head doesn't listen. the scenarios play through his head like a non-stop movie, looping over and over until he knows every way anything could possibly go. he just can't wait to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. he may never let go again. for now the world is still cold and relatively lifeless, the clock keeps on ticking, bringing happiness closer.

<3 <3   

send all my loving to you.

he worries over every little thing. every sign he gets, he thinks of the worst possible scenario. he hopes for the best, thinks the worst, and truely believes something in the middle. but his heart doesn't quite know what to do, listen to the worrying or just wait and see what happens. he's becoming a slave to these little pieces of cardstock, he sees their pictures and his heart starts to race, wondering just what that day's message will bring. he'll reread them every morning, whenever another arrives, and at night. pretty soon he'll have them memorized without even trying. it's hard to let a moment go by without thinking of her.

he feels like he's leading a double life, one where he's comfortable and can be himself, and one where he's still the good little daughter. he wishes he could let the first take control, although it's hard when he's lived that life mostly in his head for fear that others wouldn't quite understand. the latter has become his reality that he doesn't know how to bring up who he really is. it scares him, he doesn't want to be that way forever. he kids himself and says he's waiting for the right timing. he knows what's going on, he's actually scared, something that isn't anywhere near the person he is inside. he doesn't want to deal with what would happen if it went badly. he knows he should only surround himself with positive people and that explaining things to certain people might make them not so positive. he might just be doing it for his safety.

<3 <3 

you're such a fucking cutie pie.

he is enticed by any form of body mod. the tattoos and piercing are just the begining, he has already started to expiriment with stretching, he may decide to play around with branding and scarification. there are so many beautiful works of art one can do with the human body, it would be nice to have those pieces stick around for a while instead of fading in the next day's shower. he enjoys the perminant (or semi-perminant) aspect. he also wishes he could play around more with hair dye and dreading and such, but he will have to wait until after grad, when he is out of his mother's household and can depend on a job that will allow him this expirimentation and to change his look so often.

he only has a few more months left before he can finally become employed, before he can lace up those bright green boots and love them to death. 5 1/2 months till he turns 18 and can become a body shop makeup artist, about four months till christmas season opportunities start at toys r us. this will be a good year, he can feel it. he can just feel the good vibes come towards him. he is relieved that he only has four academic classes to worry about, all in the arts. he can be focused on his work and just let his final year of high school be what it may. 

the waiting game has become his life, waiting for things to hurry up and be here already. each day he counts down to the next event worth staying awake for. they're running out. friday, if he can go. Saturday. possibly that Tuesday, if not, one of the two following. next week's Friday. and then there's the Monday after ;)
less than two weeks. he doesn't know how to contain himself. 

<3 <3 

before too long I'd fall in love with her.

at least 10 days of sleeping left. just hibernate the whole time. maybe go out for a skate.  it's just so much easier for him when he's asleep, dreaming that things aren't the way they are. he can dream that she's by his side, he can dream that there aren't riots and fires tearing through a beautiful country, he can dream that he has a body that he can feel comfortable in. 

he paints his lips a bright shade of red and no one gives him a second glance. if any physical boy did so, they would get harrassment from everyone they meet. in a sense that makes him one of the lucky ones. the ftmtf life is just so much harder because of the way that people just assume that he's cis-gendered because he present mainly female. there are too many layers for most people to understand. it's hard enough for him to understand and he's living it. he knows he is anything but female, he knows that he just wants to be seen as a strong, actual man. he also knows that a good portion of the time he feels the need to be beautiful and girly just like the other drag queens, but in no way, shape, or form does he want to actually be female. he's perfectly happy in his male mindset. but would that just make him transgender without wanting to take the full steps to becoming transsexual? he doesn't even know anymore. he just knows he feels more comfortable identifying as male than anything else. this has been a long time coming and he realizes just now what this means, he needs the time to think about it himself before he can start to involve those around him. 

he feels so alone, he tries to keep the smile for everyone else's sake, but he just wishes there was one other person he could talk to who shares his gender exactly, from the girly days still identifying as male to the amount of dysphoria. someone he could turn to when it gets to be too much. he wants to meet this boi so they could be best friends forever. he'll just keep hoping that boi is somewhere out there and that one day they'll find each other. 

<3 <3 

beautiful like the rainbow.

he might be almost ready to take down the masks. it wears him out having to put up this idea other people think of him as. he just wants to come clean, let people know so they can stop judging him as a cis-gendered, straight female. he wants people to know what he is so he can't stop with the constant sexual jokes, the constant trying to be as manly as possible, the trying to hold up a macho front. he has his girly side, he has his manly side, sometimes they are one. especially when it comes to sex and sexuality, he doesn't really care about hot, lesbian sex, he just wants to cuddle. he tries to make himself seem like a testosterone-fueled engergizer bunny, but sex isn't all that's imprtant. maybe if they would just see him for him instead of her it wouldn't be as big a deal. he could be free to have his little commitmentphobic moments and still just want simple, meaningful physical contact instead of full-blown hormonefests and sexcapades. 

after being dragged to more 'adult' parties than he cares to remember he has managed to realize just how much more fun a night of 80s trivia and such with a bunch of people of a generation older is than a drunken bitchoff with the idiots his own age. there is so much more substance with people who have lived a little. he realizes just how much he can't wait to be out of high school so he can just join the world where people actually do meaningful things instead of bullshit kids do. he can't wait to get away from dumbasses that don't have enough braincells to have any prolonged conversations about non drug-related things. it will be a glorious day.

<3 <3 

wrong in all the right ways.

he doesn't quite know what to do with the world, what to think, how to act. he hates giving a stance because most things he knows he changes his mind about faster than he can say his opinion. there are very few things he can talk about and not feel like he's lying because he changes his mind while he's talking. that might be one of the reasons he finds it easier talking to other forms of life besides humans, they don't judge him for his faults. he doesn't know quite how to connect with actual people. very few have been able to cut through his external shell and make the coonection. the worst part is that when people do actually manage to do so, he clings to them for a glimpse of happiness and they end up feeling smothered and backing away. then he's back to square one trying to make a connection. it's a never-ending circle. one day, he hopes to find an end and keep a connection for life. 
he conforms, pretending that it all makes sense, that people are objects he actually can communicate with easily. they all believe he understands just like the rest of them, but he's drowning in the unknown, slipping into a place of isolation. he sits in his own corner, dreaming. he is at home in the quite of the night, the gentle breeze, the soft, grassy beds. he greets them like lovers as he falls deep into their arms, falling deep into a peaceful slumber. 

he cannot quite grasp what it is, but to him, she makes it easy. just being around her is a calm like nature's embrace. this is a feeling that in all the wonderful people he has happened upon, he has never quite felt. usually there is this space, this awkward distance that can only be brought down with smoke curling in his lungs or alcohol slithering down his throat. with her it's almost a natural high,  a space where this awkwardness doesn't exist in the first place. this is a space that could be on the path to falling in love.

<3 <3  

I don't know if I'll make it, but watch how good I fake it.

he wants to go through all the piles of everything and get rid of all the crap, it gets on his nerves just sitting there. he also knows he doesn't have the motivation to get off his lazy ass and do anything about it. it's been a year, moving from place to place. he still doesn't know how to sort through it all and seperate things that hold the memories he needs and random crap that has no meaning. slowly he filters through it all, getting rid of more and more each time, but he wants to do it all at once and have the open space to walk, to organize, to be able to close his closet for once. soon enough he'll be off to find his own place and trying to have as little as possible to be lost to bad roommates. he needs to get it down to the basics, he just needs to learn to let go. he may not be as productive as he could be, but there's just too much emotion to be able to deal with everything at once. he has the emotions of a girl, as much as he hides it and tries to make everyone else believe he doesn't have the emotions. 

he looks around and he doesn't recognize anything. the room is just another in a slew of many that he has gone through in the year, the furniture and most decorations he has far outgrown. he should be scrapping it all and starting afresh, although he is just to afraid he will not be able to actually afford such big changes, that he cannot find himself enough to pick such things out. so he'll start small. 

he is in hiding from the heat, from the sun. he has gotten to the point that happens every summer where he just loses connection with people and goes so far into himself he has a hard time recognizing other people, they all seem so far away. he longs for a human connection, but none of them last long enough for him to get the full effect. he has a hard time trying to realize that all these other beings are humans just like him, they feel, they breathe, they think, they are not plastic. once again he will start off the school year completely socially awkward. 

<3 <3 

I wake up to your sunset.

he drives along, speeding a little to catch up with cars ahead. there's no one on the road ahead of him for at least 10 carlengths. out of the corner of his eye he sees something black, he turns to face it just in time to see a car fly and flip, landing upsidedown. bits of plastic from the mirror and other attatchments go everywhere. they shower the road ahead of him, bouncing off the very end of a semi truck before hitting the road. he slams on the breaks, partially to avoid being hit by the pieces, partially because it takes him a moment to realize that the car hasn't indeed flown over the median and nearly hit him head-on. he pulls over, stops the car and tries to follow others' lead in running accross the freeway to check on the passengers. the cars just don't seem to stop for him. finally the guy behind him when it happened comes back and tells him that everything is ok, the people are fine, and the girl is just freaking out a little. the cars around barely seem to notice anymore, they just go around, not bothering to stop at all. to them this is just another obsticle on their way to wherever they are going. to him it is a moment he will never forget. being so close to being hit so badly will scar him for at least a few months. 
the funny part is that he wishes it had a little bit. he always wonders what would happen if he crashed, even what would happen if he smashed into the median at 135km/h (over 80mph). this might be a sick little piece of his mind, but he really wants to learn the hard way. he wants to be the weak victim, to be looked at as a little less than sane. he wants to feel the pain, push technology to its limits, push the human body to its limits. he likes the power behind the wheel, the fact that his passengers trust him enough to not wreck the car just for fun. 

<3 <3 

I, I want to see you again.

he actually misses home, although he doesn't quite know where that is. he misses the people, knowing where things are, not feeling like a tourist. most of all he misses his bed. he misses returning to it after a long day of adventures and cuddling into the abundance of stuffed animals. he misses the little black spider who has claimed his celing as its own. he misses wondering if it found him as amusing as he finds it. then he realizes it's Wednesday, no longer the weekend. he wants to run to the place where he calls home just hoping to find the postman has left behind something, nevermind that it would mean crossing the boarder and running down highway and though a tunnel for hours on end. possibly even days. he just wants something to stay the same after all the changes summer brings. maybe he'll stay in a single room by himself for a good few days and reconnect with the world. the world more or less stays the same. trees will always provide enough shade and comfort for a few hours of reading, grass will always tickle at his bare flesh, ground will always have gravity to keep him down. they are his friends.

he gives his body over to the universe, letting go of the reins when he closes his eyes. he cannot stand another moment of awakeness. the moon is as full as it will get on this night and the city will go to sleep slowly in the next couple hours or so, but out there somewhere she's braving the harsh heat of the sun. she's on the other side of the world, one of the farthest places she could be, and he doesn't quite know how to cope in these nighttime hours when his mind just rambles and spins and churns. he tries to keep moving, keep occupied by whatever opens itself up to him, but when the day comes to a close it isn't quite enough. he'll be counting down the days, even if he tries not to. it's the only way he even knows what day it is currently. 

<3 <3    

something in the way she moves.

washington really is a beautiful place when you see the less touristy bits. although deception pass is kinda cool too, with all the harbour seals and harbour porpoises. just really love the little artsy bits and such. maybe if I'm lucky I'll be able to go do a little thrifting in town. missed the campfires and wilderness after even a few weeks away. 

crashing campsites, the new cool thing to do. getting invited and then when you go to visit friends they aret there so you end up using the campsite to cook dinner anyways. there were SOOO not a bunch of awkward moments of wondering when the ranger would be there to kick people out or make them pay fines. yay for awkwardness??

he can't see the world the same way anymore. whenever something beautiful catches his eye his first thought is maybe he'll be able to bring her there to see it sometime. every moment, every piece of everything he just wants to share with her. he doesn't think it's just an initial rush of excitement, it has been awhile, although the distance may prolong it. he just doesn't even know anymore. here he sits almost two months later, his mind in as much of a whirlwind as the very first day. she has a special place in his heart, and he thinks this time it just maybe might be perminant. he won't jump to conclutions so quick, but for now he will let her take up almost his every thought. 

this summer is changing him. he never thought it would, but being apart from his generation for so long he tends to grow. it's almost as if being with people his own age too much smothers him and brings his dreams down to earth. he just wants to be away from it all, in a place where people just live as one without caring about silly numbers. he'll go live in a hidden village in a forest, but he still has one more year of smothering "education". 

<3 <3 

girl I wanna take you to a gay bar.

he just can't wait to get back to routine, although grade 12 scares the shit out of him. he longs for the days away from the bitch, day where he gets to see her almost every day. but the family will force him into dresses and heels until he ends up a soggy mess on the floor of some dress store changing room. he doesn't quite know how to tell them all that he wants a purple tailcoat. he doesn't know how to tell them to leave him alone to try and figure shizz out. he doesn't understand what his mind is telling him. yes, he is a boy in a girl's body, but he feels like he's a boy who wants to dress up in all sorts of crazy, girly things. he wants to start transitioning so he'll look like all the other drag queens. there's just too much gender-bending to make sense. 

he needs long hours of sleep to get back to a place where he physically can be in the creative zone and fill a few pages of sketchbook or something productive like that. it's about time he do something besides mope about and complain about not being able to do anything. he just needs to sleep..

the blood and the gore turns him on. he lusts for the pain, yerns for the scars. everything about the the mythical world he loves, vampires, faeries, werewolves, unicorns, mermaids, monsters. mostly the vampires. the blood, the sexuality, the pale skin. long before sparkly half-assed vampires were the teenaged girl fantasy, he's been a slave to their culture. ever since he was first bitten he has been addicted to it all. anything dark, undead, supernatural he tends to float towards. then there's just the kinky fantasies....

<3 <3 

don't write yourself off yet.

the morning starts out like any other, pleaing for a few more minutes, attempting to get out of bed. everything seems groggy from the eyes of a zombie. then he remembers what day it is, pride. he bolts up to go shower and dress in more rainbows than he ever thought he owned. the day is off to a good start. the makeup and costume fall into place perfectly. 
the way down, he smiles at all the passerbys, the old Chinese men and women giving dissaproving glares and hiding their children away from the queer. everyone backs away. he knows they're all staring at him. 
finally he makes it to the big group of queerios. they welcome his flamboyant nature with open arms, more than anyone who doesn't understand could do. he is no longer alone to stand for love. 
everything excites him, from the rainbows everywhere to the cute girls he sneaks a peek at. there is nothing he doesn't love. except for the fact that she couldn't be there.. he would've given anything for it to have been her that he had been marching alongside, holding her hand, creating memories with. alas, it didn't happen, so he starts to plan next year's pride. he starts to move onto the next thing he's waiting for, seeing her. so he'll wait. he'll wait the three weeks for her to be back in his arms. he'll wait until the end of the world. 

with the parade over the obvious choice is to drink, only problem is that his mother was expected to pop up at any second. he didn't want to get caught mid-swig and be scorned and hated for everything queer. although the bitch takes him away from the action anyways when he is sober. he longs to welcome the excitement with friends as opposed to being stuck going away with my mother. 

this girl puts a spell on bois. she charms them with her hippy powers. the dreadlocks on her head cascading down from a tumble of hair. she carries the world with her on her own head. the gentle weave of twigs in her hreadband being the most view. her purple doc martins giving her an air of confidence that she radiates down to everyone in her path. and he'll never see her again.

<3 <3