You're here to see where I've been: I haven't;
You want to know what I've done: i didn't;
404: I do not exist;
my echo my profile rots
my body, my rights, my mind erased my b:// rihgt ym nimd er||upted
my mindmy minpmymind mym:ndnymind/my mindmymindmymind
my mind.
I am not well or happy and the things I have to say are very reflective of this:
proceed with self-care;
I feel distinctly and often, that I am running out of time. Not that I am going to die, but that I'm missing my chance to be happy and to feel whole. That top surgery will only matter if I am young enough to enjoy it for the rest of my life; thin enough to enjoy it correctly. Sometimes I am ashamed to find myself daydreaming about beast cancer, because it feels like the only way I will be prioritised. Sometimes just having tits at all makes me want to wail and heave. All of the time I am unbound, I feel the dysmorphia of age setting in - things aren't where I think they ought to be, or where they were. A childhood of pushup bras and an adulthood of respiratory problems. A childhood of pain and pageantry, and an adulthood of consequences and trauma. Sometimes that feeling that I have to exploit my own body to be worthy of support threatens to overwhelm me. I need therapy so badly but I just can't cope if money gets any tighter. I pay over $500 a month for a flat with mould to a landlord who yells at my partner. I need to find the money to learn to drive, so I can live in a van I can't afford. I can't tell my parents my name.
the lines blurred between him and me. they treated me like him so long that he stopped being true- stopped being what i made him to be- and now he holds on to everyhting i can't bring myself to rmember- and i keep him in a box- i cant make art any more- i cant even look at him- could you?
the box is metaphorical but it's real too. i don't want to throw it all away because i have never felt that kind of euphoria, never felt so seen- but by the end i felt alone. nobody heard what he had to say i was just sex. just vinyl pants and big hair where once he was me, he was a ghost and a rockstar and my past from the future. Salazar Sparks was electric and the room was always flooded so you were electric too but now im drowning he's drowning i'm drowning him
I am tired of being ignored and forgotten and overlooked and left on hold. I AM. I EXIST AND DO AND AM. I AM EVEN WHEN YOU DON'T LOOK AT ME. even when it's hard for you. i have been here all along: without you and not alone;
i'm sure if you knew how i cried youd be sorry for me. you get to think of it like that and maybe the passive form is a comfort so let me say it again
soemtimes i think about you and cry: not you though; if you think it's about you it never is but you never considered that. Sometimes i talk about you [even though i'd know you wouldn't like me to,, and sometimes i know you can feel it] and it makes me cry it makes me cry you made me cry by doing nothing and not talking to me and letting me disappear fade away i do not exist you made me cry BY DOING YOU MADE ME
- Violence
- Danger
- Sex
- Drugs
