It's hateful, and its paid for

To My Friends

You know, I started typing up a really bitchy message just now. I stopped the second I thought I might offend any of my friends who may or may not read this. But I can’t. Because though they aren’t always there, or understanding or prepared for me, I still love them. My body won’t allow me to express it even in the simplest of words, but for this blank piece of paper, my fingers can muster the letters. Sometimes I just wish I had them closer to me so that all the others who hurt me, who leave me, who just don’t, won’t or will not even attempt to understand or even get to know me, wouldn’t hurt so much. I don’t really need a support group, I need the support of you guys. I am so emotionally blocked that I may never be able to repay you. I have listened, I have sympathized, I have tried to understand everything you have told me. Just do me those, in return. It would help a lot right now.

One More Thing

     My ranting by no means targets anyone. But I will say this. For all those out there who have allowed me, or asked me, to just vent it out to them, I love you for your ears. But I hate your mouth when it says “your strong, you can handle this.” Fuck that. My heart cries for those posts I have read not only because someone is feeling so horribly, but because I can relate. I don’t need to be told to “handle it” or to be questioned about it when most of the time words won’t apply to what I am feeling. I, like anyone else, would like a damn shoulder, or a hug or some understanding. Not randomly. It isn’t like reading a chain letter and then doing what it says. Do what I do. Observe. I am a part of this environment like the rest of us, I show signs that are fairly readable. If you want to do something amazing, do it then. I will come to show you more love and more of me than most can get. Just be prepared to see that “strength” I have been holding up, come crashing down.

Observing the Real Tension

     I realized quite a while ago I hadn’t posting anything in a long time. I do that a lot. Instead I end up doing what I do best. Observing. One of the things that comes with observing life as it happens is it causes emotions to be drawn out of you. For instance, on here, I have been reading every LGBTQ post and liking them. I hate like buttons for things such as those. I don’t like that someone is feeling so much pain or is so alone. I FEEL that, I have lived that, I am living that and more than likely I will continue to at some points live that. And yeah, it sucks, but it’s life, and life tends to be a bitch like that.

     I hate to say life is that way, when I know it doesn’t have to be. Quite possibly it may not be. It isn’t. Do I hate my situation? Oh hell yeah. Nothing like forcing yourself out of bed to go out into a world that stares at you, giggles when you walk by and makes every living part of your body crawl with worry, self hate and the sense of being unsure of yourself. That is of course if I can make it past the mirror in the morning. But hey, you know how it is, you apply some existence of hope to the equation and your on your way into the daylight.

     I would trade my life in a heartbeat to be you. I don’t want to be transgendered, who really does. I am a giant with a voice to match. I awkwardly wander around trying to keep my eyes from ever coming across a person. For me at least, I like to read people, and damn does it suck when you can read most every stare or expression. My shoulders, my hands, my feet, my jaw. The list goes on people. All these things are physically the male I was. And for most people who don’t get close enough to hear me, not my voice or my heart, believe it’s who I physically am.

     Change. I am not a positive thinker and really right now I am going through enough of that. Collectively, I am a realist. If a chicken lays a golden egg, then I will believe it when I see it. No sooner. But already, I have weighed those possibilities. I don’t need to be reminded of who I am. Sucks. To the good I am “she” and I do things in the pretense of “her”. To the bad, I am “he” and it’s “hey man/dude/bro”. But the ugly part, to me they are all lies. For being called a guy, your more truth because that realist part of me knows what is physical, but you can tell damn well I am not. As for being called a girl, more or less your just trying to help me out, and I love and thank you for that, however, I can’t stand behind you if you don’t believe it and see it. Hell I can’t even act like myself because I am so tensed up and torn between he and she alone. Shit, it would just be easier to be that guy I was that didn’t give a damn, at least I didn’t have to convince someone with preconceived notions of who I am.

     Regardless, it is places like this where I vent these emotions. Blank canvas’s, empty air. Funny thing though, I have gone some time without any. Makes sense really. What you don’t pour out, stays stashed away for later. It is how the body works. I have held onto my emotion, scratch that, I HOLD onto my emotion like it’s a stock maturing for my grand retirement. That’s the damn truth too. Because when you lock it up, for this reason or for that one time you didn’t wanna let it out because the people you were around might take it the wrong way, you stack it till the point when it does come out, your drained. It is amazing to watch. There are nights, though few, where a friend of mine finally gets to the core and shakes my spine. The tears that roll down my face are immense. And like sunshine after a storm, my back opens up and I feel relaxed enough to laugh.

     Now, I can’t tell anyone how to live, but I have a thrive for knowledge and as we know, being a realist, I still keep it real. Listen to your body. Learn about it, treat it with care. I beat mine to hell but we came to an agreement. Everything you feel, everything you think, even the things you never bring to show and tell, they are in there. They are locked up, and damn well didn’t do any crime. Just relax and fuck the rest. Being transgendered, I am focused inwardly on my transition. I would love to be a part of this world and I can. I am. It isn’t a matter of the world sucking sometimes or of negative vs. positive thinking. It is a matter of focus. A matter of freedom that only you can bring from within yourself. A soul in-tension, that’s learning to fly.

Listening to Life

I got some news from a friend about what people say when I’m not around. I hear people talk around me, about me all the time. But lately, it’s just too much to deal with. I have my long road ahead of me. People get off at their stops and I cope with that. But to stay on and just ride, just for your own enjoyment (or if you like to complain about things, unpleasantness), how does that make me the one you tear down. In this past week alone I have broken under stress and the shear pressure of life twice. I say things I later take back, but I don’t do or create anything that can’t be amended or regretted. So for those of you who do, for those of you who ever have. Think. 

“I speak in a calm voice. I hear what you say, anything you could possibly think about me I have thought. The saddest part is that the thought I have least for myself is love. And it is just. Why have a thought that so few seem to share, on anything? Why choose the least likely idea to a meld of minds? But I don’t deny the thought of another. I take in all thoughts equally. And I don’t expect the same, I don’t expect understanding. Not even pity or comfort. I am human, all I ask is to be treated like one. Some of you talk, and I know you. Others, neither side knows the other. But I don’t deny a single ounce of you to my own ideals. You don’t have to love me. But as a planet, we live here together. You don’t have to like me or do anything for me. And you know what, that is your thought. And for me to hear and live through what I do, by choice, by genetics, by whatever suits your mind is beyond me at times. I have a thought for me, and that’s respect. You may never really know me, nor I you. And for me that is a shame. But if you want to know me as an idea of your own device, then you know nothing. The loss was never mine to be had. I am not perfect. I know by every mean, but I know that one is that I will cause some of these meetings to go unmet. For some, it hurts me. It runs my mind in circles. Others. Well sometimes you can just tell someone’s thoughts before they hit the air. I am a person of understanding, beyond when it hurts. If you feel the need to voice your opinion or point out something I failed to see, then I will take it in, whether known or unknown. There is so much a person can do for their own life when their environment runs them down. And for me, I see a lot of people of my past, of my present, that seem to be lost in their own world and just like watching and talking about the sitcom that is mine. Perhaps just in passing perhaps in depth. Talk if it makes you feel better. Think what you have to if it brings you to a more secure, higher place of being. But don’t think I won’t know. If you want to know something, know this. It effects me. If you want to hurt, vent or just voice your opinion and feel just, know what it does. If I could ask one thing of all of you talkers and thinkers out there it would be to use what you do for what it was created for. Thinking. If not for me, then pay it forward. But for every person for any reason you cut down, be reminded of a time you were mistreated. Disowned. Left out. You feel that. Put it to daily use and you’ll feel a little of what I do. It’s a common feeling for any person and any situation, it’s adaptable. I am here to live, be it the hardest thing I do both for myself or against the simple minded. And live is what we do. I just have to live while dealing with you. Again, I don’t ask that of you. But know, if your going to use your mind, use it now. It would be a waste not to. Have a deep thought for me. Follow the road about anything you want. And when you’ve walked it, every inch of it, come find me if you feel like it. Respect your final thoughts or not, I will still be listening.”

picture book

     Some of my old photos caught my eye when I was online tonight. I’m not a fan of my photos. Being photographed disgusted me. I wanted to look like the life of the party, that person off on the side being intellectual, even looking peaceful if one was caught of me in my time of rest. Thing was, I always looked awkward in them. Everything was so unnatural from what I could see looking back on them. Even after each picture was taken I could see this.

     Thumbing left I flipped through my years in single shots. Three years ago, a few summers ago. Slowly I could see a change. It was as if I had hit some form of peace and understanding. The shots were more natural, I was looking brighter. Memories. I could see that changing in myself and recall it. Times when I decided to grow up and grow out.

     One day, some time ago, I made a choice that I was going to improve my life and find happiness. I began with everything that came to mind. First I became social, I got to know people, I got close to people. For far too long had I been secluding myself from the world. Although I had ample time for art and music back then, my friends became priority. Secondly, I started being honest. We all lie, and probably continue to do so. I know I do. But when it came down to it, I was honest within reason. I’m just not a brutal person. I tweeked all these parts of my life every time I felt it needed to happen. And when I returned many times still depressed, I sought another answer to my great question. What will make me happy? The journey always restarted.

     Just recently I made it known to all online who that person in those pictures really was. And when I land on that last photo, I can just feel my heart. A little bit of me, past to present lies in those photos. It’s weird, without words, how you can see two people but only find one at the same time. Who knows, maybe I’ve found happiness. One can’t say when they could find a feeling more. But I can say I found myself, and that makes me happy. Took a lot of searching and uncovering of things I never quite took the time to understand to get here. Its been a journey of the mind no one should have to live. One I don’t wish to relive. The story of a life is long though, its better saved for a few pictures.

jaaawsh asked: you make a beautiful girl :) and you're inspiring! i'm definitely following you :)

awe thanks, compliments get you everywhere on my tumblr ha. in all seriousness though, it means a lot