I’m going to change. Starting now, I am only in transition. Hibernation seems appealing, but illogical. Time asserts itself so quickly though, I’ll be dead in no time. With the obvious outcome of new life. This isn’t a dramatic plead, just a reassurance of what’s to come. My body started to develop before any outsider had the chance to influence it. My hands curve in motion, they have always bent on their own. Without any other fingers to clasp, I simply held on to my own strength. My mind has slowly been changing and it’s time for everything else to follow. I’m alright by myself, I’ve always been alright on my own, company is always appreciated though. Always. I feel the time to go back to my poison, if I could only keep myself in this state of mind. Happiness will of course be by my side when possible, but this mind set, it has to stay in the back of my mind. I’m becoming less inclined every day to show colors, time eats my soul. People eat my heart. This hollow body harbors air and strange eyes, mine dart back and forth with no words falling from my mouth, no light engaging my skin. I am only in transition. 

I’ve been in this rut for a while now. Maybe even before I can remember. I’ve been pulling faces to fool those who barricaded me into this in the first place. See, I don’t need anyone else to make me feel important. I don’t need anyone else to make me feel love, I’ve just tricked myself into thinking so. Lately I’ve been cramming that advice down my own throat. Hopefully soon I will choke on it. I don’t need anyone. See, I’m always attracted to the shy and quiet in strength. Maybe because I’ve always shouted my weaknesses. Indirectly though. I will skillfully position myself in the shadows, then scream out my sorrows, only to be echoed all through out the mountains. I couldn’t keep track of how many people came to mourn with me. I would resist it, and hide under the floorboards. Only to peek my head out every once in a while to make sure everyone was still there, taking time out of their lives, to make sure I was alright. See I’m a fraud and I’m sincere. I’m determined and I’m unsure. I’m weak and I’m stronger than you will ever be. I need to be out, and doing something that I’m passionate about. Yea, under your feet I lay still contemplating where to go. Things would be easier if I had no where to go, and so, I would just go. With no intentions of stopping because there would be no resting place for my weather ridden bones and skin and I wouldn’t even remember where I had to begin. Everything would just be lost, in that fight. I’m thinking things need to change, I’m thinking things in my brain need to rearrange. 

There is something so unsettling about falling asleep with the sun over your head, and waking up with the moon knocking on your window. Nothing ever stops, nothing ever slows down. It’s so easy to have a feeling, trying to find words to express such feeling is almost impossible. I have everything inside my head, but as soon as someone asks to explain, my mouth turns to mush and I regret ever showing any kind of emotion. I hate not having control, I hate having attachments to things, I hate having emotions, I hate being awkward. 

I guess I hold a lot of anger. I’ll reserve it, and keep it hidden up on a shelf. Time will go by and the anger will collect dust. I’ll be fine, until something triggers my sternutation. Dust flies everywhere and I am skin deep in blood. 

I’m so tired and I’m not sure why. It’s like I want to lay down, but when I go to shut my eyes, it hurts. My nerves are getting the best of me I suppose. I keep hitting dead ends, only to circle back around and hit them even harder. My stomach feels so uneasy, and my brain is spitting out thick fluid in front of me, making my vision very cloudy. I can’t loose my judgement though, it’s what my emotions are always trying to trick me into doing. I like when I move my eyes and those little squiggles follow. I like when I sit so still and just stare into the empty space, and one of my eyes will start to twitch. I like the dots that cover my eyes right before I pass out. 

Good things come to those who wait, correct? See, my skin is always jumping, and my eyes are always sorting. I try too hard, or my wrists lay limp. Balance, balance. The tightrope always snaps on me. I’m constantly swallowing the vacant air that belongs to my tongue. In the years that pass, I will simply correlate with myself, then come to the already obvious conclusion that my life is useless, pointless. To say the least. Oh but I love new friends, new company. Pour liquor down my throat and I’m your best friend. Sober me until dry, then try and get to the root of my problems. See, there isn’t a point. You either like that I’m fucked up, or you don’t care. Not to say that I am, you know, a red flag. Just that I burn a lot of things into my memory, your memory, our mutual understandings that you’re probably not going to get past my thick, well, just make up whatever word you’d like to place in the blank. ______________

I ramble and complain, but I never put any of it to use. I guess it’s karma’s way of saying Uhh, grow the fuck up. Oh, how much easier said than done. There are so many necessary steps! With no such necessary hand book. You just must mature, or don’t! Stay selfish and petty. Everyone is alway trying to out-do the last. I either speed up, or peg out. Never that rope, always the boulder. 

I don’t believe many people even understand the true extent of what being transgender is. Due to the recent studies and information that is so much more accessible, I feel like people throw the word around, mostly women who are initially lesbian. Just because you don’t like your boobs and have a rough exterior doesn’t mean you suddenly are a man. It infuriates me so much to see people posting on here about how they are, and then go back and forth with it. Being trans isn’t something to take lightly. It’s torture, it’s pure torture to be trapped in the wrong body. I watched and learned about how my Parental struggled for years. See, he grew up in a time that was obviously, drastically less accepting of being so. Back then, it was unheard of. When he was six years old, he tried to pee standing up. Ever since then, it was a constant struggle, constantly on his mind. He tried to transition in his early twenties and was put on hormones, but because of his Mom (my Grandmother) he had to stop, and was forced into this constrict of ‘being a woman’. I’m not saying that you can’t realize you’re transgender in your later years, as goes for being gay. Though, being transgender is a deep seeded need, and should not be flaunted around because you like the initial attention. I have such a high respect for trans men and women and for some uneducated, douche bag dyke to claim that identity frustrates me to no end. I will just add in with closing that, society as a whole are fucking idiots. Let’s create so many labels and pinpoint every little behavior. Let’s be genderqueer! Let’s be pansexual! Let’s be objectivesexual! But WHOA WHOA WHOA DOn’T L4B3l M3! I JuSt 4m Wh0 I aM!! WHY DOES SOCIETY LEBEL ME!???@ AHH STOP THE HATE.  …Alright no, fuck you, you fucking idiot. You put that label around yourself to try and find yourself, to try and fit yourself in with everyone else. That’s the main goal in life, right? To fit in and feel like you belong? Yet right when people use your ‘label’ against you, people freak out. I mean, label yourself, go ahead. Become fucking unicornsexual, just fucking know who you are and own it. Don’t fucking say shit because it’s fashionable, because that’s what sexuality is coming to, it’s a fucking fashion statement now. Gahhh fuckkkk everyone and their undeveloped minds, and over sized mouths. 

We had been best friends for seven years. We did everything together. Thirteen years old, you told me girls wear thongs, so I begged my Mom to buy me some. We all went together, you, me, and our Moms. That type of underwear was very uncomfortable to me right from the start, but I tried it, because you said so. Not long after, our mothers left together, ran away, to be together. Mine, transitioned into a man, we both were a bit fucked up because of it. We both went to live with our Aunts, we were always so similar in different ways. You submerged yourself into drugs, I avoided eating like it was the plague, I used my knifes to slice my skin. We always stayed in contact though. We would go months without seeing each other, yet when we did, really no time had passed. We gladly took turns in playing roles of personality. One day I was the absent minded freak who danced from couch to couch with my pants up to my boobs, well..that was mostly my role. Though there were the times your brain fell out. I took advantage and would laugh extra hard at you during that. We were the same in all the right ways, and different in all the interesting. We put a perspective on anything. I floated from person to person, offering my body. You stayed with one guy the whole time. Five of our seven years, you were with the same guy. I’ve never liked him, and tried to stand him in strides. He fucked you up. So bad he fucked you up. He was your other half though, so I tried, I held my tongue and I tried. Our Parent’s have been married for four years now. I’ve moved in and out, here and there. You always told me, no matter what you’d be here for me, and if it ever came down between him and me, you’d pick me. No question. It’s funny, without anyone saying anything, it came down to that, and guess what? You picked him. You knew when I came back I had more issues from when I had left. I told you I didn’t mean to push you away and to please just be patient. You left though, and I got tired real fast of feeling how I did so I detached myself. We are completely different people now, I guess. We don’t hang on each other anymore, or make weird noises and faces until it hurts. We don’t get shit faced, and carve into each other’s skin anymore. We don’t have long conversations until we’re both broke down in tears. It took me five years to finally cry in front of you, you don’t think there is a connection between that and the sudden decrease in my physical display again? I’m sorry I’ve closed up again. I’m sorry I get jealous. I’m sorry I don’t think he is good for you, and think that you going back to him is just going to further fuck up your life. I’m sorry, but I’m most sorry that you broke your promise and picked him over me. 

Her personality had no pulp. Her words went down my neck ever so smoothly, no irritation to the throat. I kind of missed picking the strings from my teeth though, it gave me something to feel. I used to collect various liquids, now, only dryness resides in the back of my mind. My fingers used to throb at the sound of crackles, heavy breath, and soft skin. Now, only cold and crippled, I can’t even hold your hand. What used to be, is just tired and protruding.