bloom and grow forever.

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

now we don our gay apparel.

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

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

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

we're crying in America.

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

all my makeup, it has come off.

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

run right to my house.

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

all I want for Christmas is you.

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

beautiful like the rainbow.

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

all I wanted was your love.

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

don't say that you loved me.

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

I gave you my heart.

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

and that's why I love you.

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

I'm dying to be with you.

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

tell me more, tell me more.

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

who knew?

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

the night of the living dead.

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

why do I need you at all?

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

images of broken light.

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

put on a little makeup.

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

we're knocking on heaven's door.

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

my life is brilliant.

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

just slip me on.

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

we take a walk.

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

what day is it?

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

fucking perfect.

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

my love affair with everything.

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

every day I see my dream.

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

I'm a son of a bitch.

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

and I ain't afraid to show it.

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

no one saying stop that.

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

strong enough to cry.

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