Usseewa

Eighty-aech-dee And smth else I think Wbu? Oh yeah, I forgot Anxiety/Depression counted. Not sure if mine counts as that but smth. And maybe OCD but not diagnosed or anyth.

Centrifuge

Yippee

Eviscerate

Sapphic

...and? How did they respond? (Also...I assume you mean they know you're trans?)

*revives* What up y'all!!

Depression

Hey, y'all, I'm looking to get some new (possibly fem) underwear...but need advice. Basically I have no idea what I want, except something different from what I currently have. Any brands or anything y'all know? Any types or styles or something? Part of it could also be the color. Color of clothing is a thing for me. Same goes for socks, really. But that's less of an issue.

Eventual

Earring

Latent

Rough (maybe?)

Nullification

uncaring

YAY!! Congrats!!!

Guys ima wear a crop top!

I love it! Very good poem

Oh lol Well, that's a good thing (that you are confident) Yw :3

I wish I could(/had the courage to) wear a dress lol. Never worn a suit *shrug* Have fun at the concert! And nice job on the poem!

Aaand that's the end of the catching-up. Here are two poems I wrote today. Hope you enjoy :3 And if not...that's okay too :3 Sometimes poetry can be boring...at least in my experience. So Much;Too Little So much I want to accomplish—try—explore. So many ideas—thoughts—unborn creations. So much time—or so they say. So little time—is what I feel. I have obligations—of higher priority. I have free time—but no motivation. I have countless ideas—unfinished—unstarted. I rarely finish. I rarely start. I rarely stay committed. I want to start now—but am held back. Last Night I lay in bed last night—following a stressful day. Head resting on pillow—I cried myself to sleep. Yet these were tears of joy—you see. For reasons I will not say. Yet it had to do with my dreams—you see. Those dreams just-glimpses. Last night I dreamt—though I could not tell you what of. When I woke up—with fleeting flashes. I wished I could remember—I wish I would not forget. Yes, I awoke—should I have stayed? Could I have remained? Or could I let those dreams—fantasies—flow here? Could I be her? - Lily

Repetition I sit here in this stifling place. While you drone on, you drone. What you say is meaningless, though. You simply repeat what we already read. Why did I read it, if you're gonna say it? Sure, you add some. But you know what I think? You. Are. Talking. To. Yourself. I raise my hand—you ignore it. A moment later—you steal my thoughts. You just want to hear your own voice. You just want to act like you know things. In reality, you’re just reading a summary. Or so it seems. I shouldn’t even bother to think. I shouldn’t bother to waste my attention on you. Your voice is a nice steady droning white noise. Elder? No. Peer? Perhaps, or perhaps not even. Why are you doing this? Do you not trust us? Are you just…are you stealing? You’re like one of them—Those Who Steal. My hand goes up—split-second-too-late. You speak my mind—do I even need to? Wait—what did you say? Should I have paid heed? Oh, nevermind. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing you say matters. Then there’s you—you and your kin. You who engage—in those silly activities. But am I really any better than you? I miss the starter—the point of transition, And now I can’t follow—this lengthy tangent. Now you’re actually speaking, and making sense. What you are saying—is actually worth hearing. Or so I think. ARE YOU DEAF? WHY IS THIS SO LOUD? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? I CAN’T HEAR WHAT I AM! “Man,” “man,” “MAN!” Gross. - Lily

Challenge A challenge this is not. I sit here—you waste my time. The things you say—I already know. Yet still I fear—succumbing to overconfidence. Yet still I believe—one day you’ll say, Something new—something I need. Something not eye-glazing. Instead I write this—sitting here. While you chatter along—and I can’t help but listen. I divide my attention—half-wasted. I’m surrounded by fools—or maybe they’re just more expressive of their stupidity. I think I’ve learned, To hide when I don’t know. Or I’m just practical—and know when not to ask, but when to research. Then there’s the occasional problem or question, That genuinely stumps me—or at least makes me think. Just stop talking or get to the point. Just let me leave or give me a challenge. At least I have free time—and can relax. Do the others share these thoughts? I learned this all ages ago—stop repeating the basics. And it’s not just you—I get this a lot. Every time—you tell me the grammar—the concepts. Like a child. Giving Up I sometimes wish that Others could read my mind. I wish that You didn’t confuse my words. I wish that My explanations made sense. Or, rather, that you understood. No matter how much I rephrase, You still don’t get it, So I just give up. One Sentence It just takes a sentence. Perhaps a word—just “hey.” Just that—to start. That’s all—though it’s not always easy. That’s all—to break years of loneliness. Just a “hey.” And—of course—the courage to say it. frIEnd I feel the start, Of friendship. It may not end well— It may not last long— It may be temporary— But it’s something. Something great. I feel great. - Lily

I'm posting a few days where I wrote poems but was too busy to collect and post them here. Homo-Gene-Ity It’s funny how you have thoughts You think are unique And then slowly realize Nothing you could possibly imagine or ponder has not been imagined or pondered by humans past. Sometimes it’s nice to hear That others worry dream or think as you do But sometimes it makes you feel Like there’s nothing you can do that hasn’t been done. Nothing you can do that hasn’t been said or thought. Your “original” and “curious” questions End up with you realizing That humans may look unique But they all have the same patterns They’re like AI, terrain generation, or...other humans. You are just a page from the Library of Babel. One of many inputs That produce the same output. You’re a clone. I’m a clone. We are fake. Our brains do the same thing. We’re like PRNG seeds. - Lily