things often typed in periods of darkness


july 9th, 2021


i'm insane for considering myself a woman but only in the faultless way where everyone else is
also insane for thinking things like "this painting is prettier," "this flavor of ice cream is better"


july 18th, 2021


the way i'm thinking about it now is that with sex characteristics being bimodal instead of binary, i doubt
that it's impossible for anyone to "pass" if that is their goal. i think it's possible for anyone to utilize the
overlap as much as they need. it's just that. it feels like its being bimodal means some people are just
kind of, like at one of the peaks & thus kind of indisputably cisgender. so there's no real failure state
& what pain there is i guess just has to be rooted in very painful envy. but the envy is not so different
from, let's say, a person indisputably of a given sex who simply thinks they are ugly in comparison
to someone who is indisputably also that sex. it is no less helpless, or petty

& it's obviously still rooted in the act of idealizing actually being another sex. instead of restricting my
thoughts to the only choice. which is working with things as they are. i should have rooted that idealization
out by now. by this point it just kind of feels like an absurd sickness detached from identity, transition, whatever
i would like to be able to describe it strictly as "a human wanting to have been born another sex" rather than
"someone born male wanting to have been born female." the former is what i'd like it to be,
it's how i'd like the logic to be operating behind the scenes. a more general thing

maybe because on some level i'm still conceptualizing it like "a man wanting to be a woman" with whatever vague
implications that can be drawn. which i guess i imagine being sinister or weird in some way, probably because
of being "a man" in that model. which is, of course, projecting a quality onto manhood irrationally! ugh

but anyway, as it stands i am still at a point where i don't expect this to ever be outright "ok." i mean, i have
already been born. but any given condition in any person's life being "ok" is frequently an exception,
i think. i don't think about it so much. it hasn't been that frequent of a source of distress. assuming
i don't dismantle the idealization, it can still be as non-painful as any other thing that
a person can be obliged to cope with instead of really solving


august 8th, 2021


i don't want to be the sex that i am. but neither sex actually carries any inherent meaning. so for me to want to be one of them,
& not want to be another one of them, i must be "projecting" "subjective" "qualities" onto one or both of them. otherwise their
subjective values would balance out. which just means i'm insane. so all i have to do is not be insane. or at least, this is
what i'd like to say. i'd totally love to snarkily call myself insane & thus redirect the problem to the (potentially)
resolvable insanity rather than the (certainly) unresolvable sex. But. is every second of life not just the projection
of qualities onto the uncaring material world around me? maybe i am just terrifyingly justified & "reasonable" in this,
to the same extent you can apply "rationality" to an animal building a nest or foraging for food. maybe it's my nature
to be a self-contradiction, forever, clawing at the stark cruelty of a binary statement, a mismatch, forever, cruelly
cruelly simple a statement, "one & not the other," it offers nothing else, & it's what i have to hear, nothing else
to be told, nothing to analyze, nothing to interpret, the statement on loop, only growing more stale & familiar but
never faltering in the slightest, & also on loop is the thought pattern where i scramble for any conceptual way
out like a frenzied animal in a bear trap & all i find is that same inevitable extrapolation to the end of my life,
where i die having never solved the problem. is it just my fate to live forever trying to bury this gnawing,
unbreakable tension? like i already said, "uncaring material world." it wouldn't even be the most
abject display of an uncaring material world, it'd be a pretty tame one. i could have been
born with a heart defect & died at age two. i could have been killed in a flood
at age fourteen. these feelings are so far from the extent of it

OK there's literally people who simply go "im' a dude:)" & proceed with their lives so maybe all the stuff i just typed was insane actually


i'm actually feeling waves of excitement & joy now in total contrast to the giant despondent paragraph
i typed ten minutes ago, i think breaking it down to such a kind of nihilistic perspective made me realize
i was habitually waterboarding myself with masochistic fixation on that irreconcilable point of self-interest
instead of um immersing myself in the absurdity of having to exist & the metaphorical liquid is like an acid
that dissolves clothing & jewelry & spares organic material, no caked-on grime of layers upon layers of
cultural & social lenses to view myself through just the fleshy human desire to be happy
which when exposed can feed into itself, empower itself, affirm itself


august 9th, 2021


i treat my forehead like a crystallization of the birth sex woes which is why
i wore beanies for three years & now concern myself with my bangs a lot &
used to panic & whimper on certain occasions if it was very windy out


august 10th, 2021


a magic birth-sex-altering button would be Heaven. originally that seemed to me like a really stupid thought which
idealizes an equally mundane & complicated subset of human experience. but i'm past that now. all the day-to-
day frustrations of life, all the angst about the world i live in, all my trouble with making friends, all the
existential confusion inherent to being alive, i know it would all persist after the button. but having
already spent so much time like this, i think it would be Heaven! i don't think anything could spoil
my outlook on life after pressing it. i would do anything to replace this eternal helpless upset
with the feeling of effortless alignment that has been so so easy to envision for so so many
years yet entirely unreachable, offering no direction that is even one step closer. it'd be
Heaven! no more friction where there should be gliding simple air. the unwinding of
an infinitely coiled knot, flopping to the floor as a piece of twine, no problem
anymore, a weight lifted, a pall cleared, slackening from stone to jelly,
a thousand year sigh of relief. & this will continue to have about
as much practical relevance to my life on Earth as Heaven does


august 14th, 2021


the thought of having any pride flag on display on my room feels like having a swiveling loaded gun installed
that constantly points at me... why would i want to take a space that i treat with an attitude of like, privacy
& self-expression, & introduce a prescribed color palette, an explicitly foreign & taken-on symbol that, in
being used as an expression of solidarity, inversely implies the presence of people off somewhere who'd
evidently like to destroy me. while reducing me to an aspect of myself that would be an afterthought
if not for the active interference of those people. it'd make me feel like i should be deprived of
any downtime from being hopped up on confrontational-ness, like a fighting dog in a cage that
people jab with sticks so i'll be constantly on edge ready to attack something... or maybe
i'm supposed to glance at it & derive satisfaction from being in an ingroup, to tell
myself there's something virtuous or prestigious about my label, haha!!! which is just,
i'm not even dignifying that little ritual with any more words, just picture me throwing up


august 16th, 2021


i think, in the back of my head, when i feel sort of angry or bitter or dry about anything,
i often feel like a man. & i dislike feeling like a man. i think if this was offset
through my body playing a part in making me feel like a woman,

(which is to say, if i was female & from there found comfort in a Treacherous subscription
to the cisnormative notion that it would enable me to feel far more secure & less
strained as a representation of femininity, far less in need of reaffirmation)


then i would simply feel like an angry or bitter or dry woman. as it stands, though, i have this range
of already-unpleasant emotion that sometimes comes with this additional disturbing feeling. it's
kind of like, "oh, who i really am, the pretending man, must be seeping back through"

of course, i could just be a cis woman still feeling at these times like i am failing to perform my gender. still, if it
has to be like this, with this demonization of my natural emotions... i think, perversely, i would prefer that form

if.

but it really doesn't have to be this way


august 18th, 2021


"wait, you actually still have a hierarchical view of the different gender / sex arrangements that
exist regarding love between human beings, even if it's an inversion of the status quo one?!
i thought we were just making jokes, ones with a playfully yet sincerely retributive tone toward
cis/heteronormativity, but jokes all the same... i think you might have a mental illness..."


august 22nd, 2021


the goal is to replace the extraneous "my body has been erroneously modified by testosterone"
periodically debilitating body image issues with the awesome normal "my body does not conform
to what i would like but in a random way like what normal people feel" periodically debilitating
body image issues, both of which are probably liable to be fed by unreal stuff like anime
drawings. also not actually, i'm actually not saying what the post says


august 24th, 2021


i've claimed that if i were female, i'd have a sense of like, a less strenuous & more secure experience
of representing femininity. even though i think the reality is... there is no secure & effortless variety of
that activity, it's... you know. but the feeling manages to follow me past that acknowledgment, because,
proceeding from that understanding, there is still the sense that i would feel more secure in... the
voluntary stress of that state of affairs, that sense of authenticity is beaten into my head


august 29th, 2021


i went into hrt having a skeleton body & here approaching the end of year two it has, as has only been fair to
expect, not overhauled my having a skeleton body. which is, i mean, okay, it's not great when i feel morphologically
"masculine" in comparison to others but i also know that testosterone doesn't have a particular tendency to make
people have skeleton bodies so it's something i can rationalize as a random thing & not like. "damage." explicit
hormone-caused removal from how i might have liked to look, that "didn't have to happen"


the feeling is "i could participate in the feeling of solidarity fostered by this pride festival
but only on the condition that i roleplay as a person," which i am not interested in doing


september 2nd, 2021


"it's stupid of me to cling to the identity of 'woman' enough that i'd even care if someone misgendered me.
my body is just going to be what it is until i die. okay. & i am acquiring a sense of who i am inside, to
the best of anyone's limited ability to do that. okay. then who cares. i am tired of doing this silly dance
that puts me at odds with my body. i am over it," i assert confidently before remembering that i'm
coming to these conclusions while being male instead of female & dry heaving until i die


september 4th, 2021


surely it can't really just be seventy years of lamenting my birth sex, that's
absurd, i'm never going to attain what i actually want but surely the epiphany
that throws a wrench into the lamenting feelings has to come eventually right


september 7th, 2021


pouring breakfast cereal while i imagine having a conversation with someone that involves me starting to crack
up as i talk, then getting fixated on how... ok, the phrasing i'd default to is "what testosterone does to the voice,"
which is always kind of iffy because people's bodies vary but i think it's safe to say "what testosterone seems
to generally aim for with the voice," feels like it ascribes a particular tint to that moment of cracking up,
& it's really painful for me to think about as pure & giddy of a moment as that still being utilized by
evolution as a sex characteristic. can't escape it even in my random daydream conversations unless
the daydream is specifically incorporating me having a different sounding voice