everybody's working for the weekend.

the madness is taking over, forcing him to use every inch of his strength to keep himself in line. he knows that he can't just rage about how they treat him different based on the fact that he has a female body and has never officially come out as any part of the trans* umbrella. he hates that he has to, that people can't just see that he's trying so hard to pull off a male persona whilst still fueling the femmeboi inside. all that effort seems to be for nothing, for taunts of how he'll never really be a boy, how he should just be happy with the body he's got. he's sick of it all. he runs his hands through his hair, so soft. he hates how shaggy it's grown, how he has no power to stop and just go off to get it cut. like a puppet, he is controlled by the rules, the fear, the conformity. it kills him inside, though he tells himself only a few months of this ahead of him until he can do as he pleases.  <3 <3