Last Thursday Night, I Spent Hours Researching Hrt. I Told My Best Friend. I Was 87% Sure I Wanted To

last thursday night, i spent hours researching hrt. i told my best friend. i was 87% sure i wanted to do it. he said, “can i play devil’s advocate?” and i said, “yes,” and he said, “are you sure you want to do it? its a permanent change.”

i laughed.

(i say shit without thinking. i will always say yes to him without thinking. i won’t think about the consequences with him. that’s what happens when this shit is indescribable.)

i get where he’s coming from. but i feel weird, wasn’t it painful to watch me struggle for years to insist i was a girl when i so clearly never quite wore it right? do you really think this is something i’ve decided overnight?

and its not fair to you.

i can't wait for it to be 5pm on a friday

rush week

she’s really drunk. she loves her boyfriend, and wishes she was a man.

she’s adamant. she wishes she was a man. she used to wear a binder everyday, but then she met her boyfriend.

and her boyfriend wouldn’t love her if she was anything but who she’s pretending to be.

“i wish i was a man,”

“you know, i used to have these thoughts a lot before i realized i was trans.”

i’m stone cold sober.

“i’ve been ignoring it for years, wait do you want a white claw?”

i walked into this party with a shaking body, but i put on a happy face and talk to my friends. but they know its an act.

i chug my drink. i want to be drunk.

“are you alright?”

a lot of people have asked me this lately. i used to be good at hiding it. there must be something in the way i carry myself, or the lack of light in my eyes when i smile.

“yeah, just really fucking depressed. i don’t want to be here but i know i should go through the motions.”

i feel fine, but my body won’t keep up. i’m getting migraines a few days every week. i stopped getting my period. sometimes all the lymph nodes in my body swell up. sometimes i get so dizzy i can’t walk straight. (i started writing again)

i don’t have the energy anymore to keep up with a room full of laughing friends. my body language falters, the smile in my eyes is gone, my apparent apathy // disenchantment comes through.

but whatever.

“you’re so cool. you shouldn’t be sad, you have so much swagger.”

she’s medicated and four beers in.

i should join a frat. not sure i could do another cult though. i gotta stop going all in on an institution.

i don’t know how to end this. just kept getting worse. i wanna sleep.

111 and that room brightening smile of yours

the artist doesn't think like the audience does