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I find it horribly ironic and honestly kinda fascinating just how far my voice has shifted from what it was when I originally joined Like, initially I was chaotic and childish and kinda stupid. That was for a variety of reasons, but that tone is just…not here anymore? I want to present like that. To yap and be energetic. It’s fun, and I assume that’s what people relate with me. For some reason tho, I just can’t Sorry if you miss that person. Honestly, I don’t know if she’s coming back (this is stupid and angsty, I know. I just needed to say it)

Topics:gender If you do not feel comfortable with any of the topic(s) listed above, read no further. I will not spoiler the text in this blog to accommodate for you. This is your only warning. Unfortunately we don't ever get to be pure, you know. Because there are people out there who influence us and who guide us. What does it mean to be trans? The definition is easy enough to find: Someone who's gender identity does not align with that assigned at birth. But that's just a word salsa Being trans isn't about just being different. It's about a journey with many steps, one that can't be skipped. Admittedly, the way I looked at being trans has evolved over time. Originally, I presumed I had the courage to simply become a dynamic force and get straight to presenting feminine, and wearing feminine clothes. I thought that it would be simple, getting through the steps. But over time, that warped into something different. I couldn't become a dynamic force, because I was shaped by the social structure around me. I could not even alter my gender expression a bit for fear of others noticing. So it became a waiting game, like a spider in a web. I never once wore any gender affirming clothing outside of locked doors, and I never once used a different name outside of tightly controlled spaces. And there are so many other changes, like how initially I focused on how good it would be later on and now I only focus on how I can make my position slightly more inline with who I am. Gender isn't really a clear concept to me either. I found that androgyny is more comforting to me than hyperfeminine styles, even though I consider myself transfeminine. It became a representation of a position where I would merely be more happy. Whether it aligned well with labels became completely irrelevant. There is a part of me that worries that when I encourage trans/cis people to question their gender or affirm their gender or guide them with getting started that I am detracting from this vital journey of self discovery. I really hate people who impose things on others, whether or not it is in the best interest of that individual. And I don't want to become someone like that, because I took an oath to myself that I would never become those people that I hate It is incredibly hard to tell when you're overstepping a line, because they are not drawn well. In the same way, there is a part of me that wants to share the joys of being trans with the world. and then there is a part of me that needs to remember that I don't get to decide when other people take their journeys it's hard to show restraint sometimes, especially since no one rewards you or even notices what you don't say[/s], which is arguably harder to figure out that what you do end up saying. It takes a lot of discipline, a skill I am attempting to improve. That's enough for now.

A little while ago, I wrote a prologue for a story idea I had. I never even started the rest of the story, but I kinda like it on its own, even if most of the ideas for the story aren't there yet. Part of the reason I stopped writing for it was because I created two really interesting characters for the prologue... and then killed off both of them. And then the 'real' protagonist didn't seem as fun. Clearly I need to learn from Brandon, and make my Cenn character not as interesting as my Kaladin. Anyway here's the prologue (with profanity censored as to follow the rules of this site). Let me know what y'all think.

(Scheduled) Purpose of Hiding I see clearer when— I take this veil from my eyes. So then ehy do I hide? For style or from fear? Music Why do I deny myself the ever-soothing pleasure I was without for so long? When will I allow my life to return to normal? Will it—or I—ever? Buzz The world has been so quiet, In these past weeks. No buzzing, no phone—[illegible word], Time for peace, Yet have I used it? In some moments, I think back, To what once was— What can never be again. Lives, Innumerable So much to read—to know. So many experiences—so many thoughts. So much pain—why can't I feel it all? The Leaf A conversation remembered, from all that time ago— from childhood. A conversation... About a leaf, The sun, And life. Love? Did I love her—does it matter? My first—second?—love? Would that I could, See her again. Though it wouldn't be the same. So could I have just stayed there? With her? Forever? - Someone, Somewhere, Somehow

Because it's the most spoiler free, and most confusing Core rule here: (Which is found in the doc, but whatever) Rules will be listed here. Rules will be broken. They are flimsy, stupid rules that souls don’t really care to always keep.

Sometimes, as now (I think), I don't know what I want. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed or get so and then I can no longer decide what I want, even if I could recently. Or perhaps it's more subtle and build-up than that but I have no clue! I am rethinking my whole identity and everything I wanted or thought I did. I decided on growing my hair out but didn't quite know. Now I think it looks good how it is—not long but not really short. Would it look good long/er? Should I keep it as-is or whereabouts? I realized I do not like computer science anymore as a career goal or main interest, and of course am second-guessing my listening to my reservations. Now, what do I like? Do I actually like art and writing or is that a passing phase or something I'll lose interest in or— Do I like philosophy or just a certain type of it; did I buy those books to read for myself or to read and be able to say so, or to read for their supposed knowledge I "require"? What do I not like that I think I do? Why does it feel as though I lose interest when an interest is brought in focus? When I tell someone I like art or wish to do more, or have an idea or such, then I no longer feel motivation or the same interest as before. Once said aloud it disappears. I once had a dream I created an amazing VR game that was somewhat terrifying and realistic. I don't remember much but upon waking I yearned to create like that—to create just that. But that was better kept in my head, I don't think I told anyone. Saying something—"oh, I want to write a novel"—removes it from your mind, it exposes the unfeasability, discourages. Or perhaps something else. Perhaps to have it affirmed invalidates your low confidence and your doubt or knowledge of your needing to learn and... tells you you can do it now, what are you waiting for, so you stop and forget it. Chasing the unattainable or simply procrastinating, "I'm going to write a novel," versus being confronted with the truth that you need to, you must and you can or you can't, "then write it." I just corrected a typo I had missed, it said "Ok Not Knowing," not "On Not Knowing," and perhaps I should be, as they tell me. Though how can I make choices when such is the case? How can I move forward? I don't know what I want and I can't think or do anything, I don't know what is true and real or what I like, or think. When faced with choices and unable to make them I feel pressured and confused and do not know a thing, I question whether what I wanted prior was ill-informed of not, and whether I should listen to others, "just" or otherwise. I don't know what I want, but I don't want to continue on, I want change or to say goodbye. It's just wholly too much (did I use that right?) I feel dizzy and confused while I have to make choices, I feel like I have no time at all and what I have is wasted. What do I wear tomorrow, who am I going to be? I feel sometimes lile the world goes to fast, and others. I need them to slow down, I need to think, or perhaps I just want to escape and delay. Sometimes they make decisions for me, sometimes I obtain misery from not doing. There's too much to think about, too many paths, and I can't hold them all, can't take them all into account, when the majority are unsolved. It would be so much easier to just have it away, to escape, no choices ot decisions anymore or then, and nothing to worry about, just running... There's too much for a day and for my mind or a page or an hour a week of therapy. I feel nauseous and did not drink enough in this heat, nor eat? I have my tasks—too many—some necessary others necessary. Some required, others I need for other reasons, to feel like I am someone, not just moving through each day not doing anything just moving just waiting, I need to write I need to create or I am nothing, am I already? I am nothing and no one if I do nothing or choose nothing, if I do so for months and years too. I need to figure my life out but I'm too sick to do so. I'm not even rightly depressed proper as an identity; I am no one. I am cold and I am sick, sitting on my Unmade bed. I told myself last night to not use the Shard today for it would do no good and has done only bad. I am clueless what truth or falsehood this holds, but I would feel better to not have it to blame. It takes up my time, anyway—should I throw my phone away? I am no one and I finally feel that true.

Uhh... stuff about gender. If you don't agree with me then... idk. Yeah. False Dichotomy We have taught ourselves that To be human is to fit into the binary— Moreso to be constrained within that box. But this is a false dichotomy— An unnecessary binary—who gives a storm if You want to wear suits or skirts—or both, or neither? Ehy do they assign is to one— Something we have no choice in—[illegible word] And reluctantly follow along with all our lives because— That is what we are told—what we see. Deeply gendered— Names, honorifics, but what does it matter? Does it make any storming sense to Define us by something as Arbitrary as How we might perpetuate this miserable and wonderful species? Boys and girls—women and men, What's the use? Hannah or Hammond—what's the point? Why be forced to use one— Not even choose one— I wouldn't miss "miss," mister or missus. So see free of these [illegible word]— Turn it all to Ash. We are making progress—seeing better— In years past I may have been dead on the streets or going through the motions that Some fools—or all—say I should. Sorry I haven't been posting more frequently. - Who knows

Oh, sigh. My life is a sigh, a sigh extending until no breath is left. A constant sigh. Disappointment, sadness, exhaustion. I lose breath constantly, and lose more perhaps sometimes—breath I can never regain. I am tired, having slept but a mere 9 hours. I am tired, despite having slept longer than the previous days. I am tired, sad, uncomfortable, and I do not know what to say but I must say something. I cannot waste precious breath that could be used for words. I am confused, I am upset, I am neglecting myself and the body I inhabit. I wish I could cry, oh how I do. I wish someone would care, and I wish no one would see. I wish I didn't wish, as wishing is pointless. I wish to be alone and I wish to have company. I wish to be someone else because I do not know who I am, and that is easier than figuring that out. I do not know who is "I" or "me." Others use a name, but I have uncertainty. Others refer to me, yet I can only pretend I agree, feign certainty through non-address. I don't know who I am, or maybe I do. I don't know what to tell you, or what's true. What's confusion one day lessens the next, and I am always a step behind, not realizing I need to catch up. Many a day I'd rather simply die, than figure this all out, than confront the truth, my fears, the past, my mind, life. I wish simply to escape, or to be absolved of my shame. I wish to erase it all, this non-life of mistakes. I wish I didn't need to, though I even don't. I wish I didn't feel these silly urges, and those not-so-silly ones. I wish I could live without wishing; perhaps I wish for "blissful ignorance"? I never once thought I would, but maybe I do now. It would be easier, wouldn't it? To be unaware of life's tortures, torments, than to be unable to fully integrate into life because nothing is right? I am so confused, and there are no answers, non easy, non given by others. And is it my fault, not knowing the problem, not knowing the question to the answer I seek? What use is 42 with no context?

I am super swamped right now.

me

cute

text

Scheduled The I now listen, to the song not heard— not played. The song from Her. Reading this next one ("Like Atlas") again, it kinda sucks. I definitely coulda done better... Like Atlas I feel sometimes an Immense burden— That of humanity. It weighs on me, And I feel guilty, And helpless. Doomsday "If the world ended tomorrow, and it could." "If I died, I'd be fine." But what did She have to say, about Doomsday? Nietzsche A name repeated at a glowing screen at two AM. Nietzsche. Nietzsche. Nietzsche. Gott ist Tot. [Illegible]. Not-moving— [I think that's what I wrote?] No-sleep, grinning is-strained. Not-sure-how-to-act, Sitting in that Grey plastic room in The corner of The room—my room. Staying Up Staying up only to Wake up early and Staying up late with Droopy eyes and A numbing brain that [?] Craves sleep. - Me

Scheduled Paralysis I am not me— I cannot breathe, Nor can I think, For every thought thought Is two more worries wrought. Faded Bliss I can't remember her, Not how I'd like. Our brief friendship, The possibility for more. I try to remember, I don't want to forget— Despite the pain of regret. See Her I wish I could see her, gain. I wish I could be with her, once more. Am I better off forgetting? Déjà Vu I've been here, before. Lost a friend, never seen again. Can I regain it? Don't Know I don't know, If I loved her— Or if I still do. Is it ruined? Or is this just my mood? Sickness My head hurts, Sitting on this unmade bed with a pile of books at my feet— too much to read. Love Poems Sitting on this unmade bed with a book of poems to keep me occupied, but they only remind me of her. Of what could've been, what could be, what I don't have. I am sitting on this unmade bed, an aching head and book of heartbreak to keep me company in this foreign-familar land. Poet Girl I wish I were a poet girl, like her— a heartbroken poet girl, whose words drown me. Never Happened I didn't even get a heartbreak. Didn't get to get to love her. - No heart to break?

one file was larger than maximum file size unfortunately

I have so much irl stuff going on rn sorry

I realized I had posted this somewhere else, but not here, so here you go. *WARNING* Well, I'm not good at poetry, so just be aware of that. Also, I wrote this when I was super frustrated and feeling kinda depressed, so be aware of that as well. *END WARNING* Do You Know What It’s Like An attempt at poetry Do you know what it’s like To sit alone at lunch every day for three years Do you know what it’s like To be lonely, even in a crowd Do you know what it’s like To pray every day for a single friend who won’t leave you like the rest have Do you know what it’s like To not be able to remember the last time you received a genuine compliment from one of your family members Do you know what it’s like To wish you were invisible because that would be better than the apathy Do you know what it’s like To spend so long being down that you don’t remember what it’s like to be up Do you know what it’s like To wonder if anyone would notice if you left Do you know what it’s like To be shamed for doing the things you love Do you know what it’s like To smile as your world comes crashing down Do you know what it’s like To fail at the one thing you were told you were good at Do you know what it’s like To be expected to spread hope even as the world only gives you hate Do you know what it’s like To wish you could say you were okay without it being a lie Do you know what it’s like To be talked about behind your back Do you know what it’s like To wonder if anyone cares Do you know what it’s like To have everything you do never be good enough because you are the one who did it. Do you know what it’s like To be me?

More suggestive (but still not that bad) caption image

So uh i have given out my general Spotify playlist before its cool but complete chaos so many different genres that i can’t really call it a specific genre of playlist, more that i have sorted it into a few sections that flow between genres, starting with folksy stuff moving towards pop then indie and pop rock and then hard/emo rock and then into metal and metalcore, finally moving to electronic and instrumental its a masterpiece that no one should be subjected to listening to sooooo here’s the link: imma disect a section song by song that has finally hit me in the emotions real hard. note: some of these songs deeply resonate with me personally and lyrically, others are just really storming fun to listen to. a huge note, this is an incredibly personal blog post which reveals a lot about me. A lot of this might be depressing or offensive even, but know that I am a human and i struggle not with things, but against them. will edit the analyses in one by one but need to respond to stuff (linkin park) 1. Emptiness Machine 2. Cut the Bridge 3. Heavy is the Crown 4. Over Each Other 5. Casualty 6. Two Faced (our chronicle) 7. Remedy 8. Deux 9. Juxtaposed 10. Another Path (public theatre) 11. Anime Intro 12. Take, Take (a little bite) 13. Tear Me Back Down 14. Fine! 15. Sober 16. This War 17. THE HUNT 18. My Caustic Ego 19. I Feel Like Dying 20. Unhappy 21. In My Head

Measure up, they say “Be like the others, it’s not that hard” But I see the others And they’re dying as much as I am, heart, body and soul Measure up, they say To the ones who work now, relax later To the ones who we have lost, long ago Work and die now, be dead later Measure up, they say When the cup has no bottom and each accomplishment, each success falls into the void Measure up, they say As a projection of self As if saying that will solve all their problems as well as mine As if they’re not perpetuating a loop that has existed as long as we have

Delivered without much comment. Revisions are for Draft 2