dear diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count
current mood: neutral
i saw ABD and his gf today for the first time in god knows how long. they introduced me to this satanist dude. he's a dance teacher(?!) and he was way overdressed for the job, like some sort of metrosexual businessman with eyeliner and shit. he showed us his room, which was literally a shack outside of his grandpa's house. maybe i've been watching too much true detective, but i half-expected to walk in there and see some poor bastard tied up like a rotisserie chicken. nothing that extreme, but still creepy. it was completely dark and there were a bunch of knives and what looked like an authentic vintage gas mask on the wall. at some point you have to draw the line between "autist" and "vampire" and this motherfucker was definitely blurring it. he had some sort of altar in the corner with these half-melted red candles dripping wax everywhere. he started talking about how he "used to be" a cokehead (yeah, we could fucking tell, you look like you're the sole source of every colombian farmer's annual income) and went on a bizarre tangent about how he became a christian for a couple months after hearing the voice of god during an acid trip but converted to satanism because the devil spoke to him. all of this narrated in the most ridiculously overdramatic voice you can possibly think of. he acted as if there was a cameraman offscreen that was filming him. i was honestly kind of disappointed when he said that he was a laveyan satanist and not a theistic one. they're basically ultra-edgy larping atheists. laveyan satanists are a bunch of drama kids who are mad that mommy made them go to church, but i'll take pretty much anything over normal vanilla atheists. i went through a hardcore fedora-wearing, sjw-hating athiest phase back in like 2015 and i cringe so hard looking back on it. atheists are some of the most soulless, cynical cunts around. they're the type of people to tell the mourning family of a dead child that they aren't in a better place now because heaven isn't real. at least satanism and other larp "religions" attract quirky artistic types. it's funny, this guy sounds like the epitome of everything i hate on paper (he's a pretentious woe-is-me mall goth junkie, he's practically begging for a mention in the "rants" section) but somehow i don't. hell, i'd buy him an absinthe. when i left, he gripped my hand like he was about to rip it off and shook it aggressively while telling me what a pleasure it was to meet me. maybe i spend too much time looking for new things to get mad about.
i make fun of ABD a lot on here, but i don't actually have a grudge against him, at least not anymore. i wouldn't be the person i am today without him. now, whether that's a good thing is up for debate. but what i do know is that ABD and his friends are some of the very few people in this world that i don't utterly despise. everyone is too nice nowadays. they try so hard to be good that they've forgotten that without evil, there can be no good. i don't think it's necessary to prance around like a unicorn on steroids all the time, excreting glittery rainbow diarrhea everywhere you go. normies need to learn that a gold-plated lump of shit is still a lump of shit. case in point: all of the pseudo-woke virtue signalling faguettery that liberals push.
in the past week alone, i've had three different women ask me what my pronouns were. i'm so fucking sick of it. i can already tell that you view me the same way that you view an animal in a zoo. just call me a freak and tell me to join the 41 percent already. spare me the "uwu you are so stunning and brave my very masculine dude" shit. the next time someone aks me about my pronouns, i'll just say "it/its."i want to see how far i can push these useful idiots. no one asks men about their pronouns. this only happens to gender non-conforming girls (including enbies and ftms). when you ask me about my pronouns, you're asking me "which type of woman are you? the normal kind or the weird kind?" if i had my way i'd just eliminate sexed pronouns altogether. why the hell do we refer to people with different pronouns based on what genitals they have, anyways? imagine if we had a different set of pronouns for every race.
i'm conflicted right now. it's been so long since i femalefailed in public. i sort of want to grow my hair out, but there's a part of me that still hates being gendered as female no matter how much i pretend that i don't care and just wants to hack it all off. the problem is that i literally look like kalvin garrah with short hair.
current music: eminem - the marshall mathers lp
current mood: depressed
i turned fifteen. this day used to be a celebration, now it feels like somebody’s funeral. and in a way, it is. every year that passes is another year closer to death. birthdays are just a reminder of all that wasted time. material things no longer give me pleasure. the family outings, the presents, the cake - i’m just going through the motions at this point. i’m spoiled compared to many, i guess i should be grateful that my parents care about me. but both my mom and my dad are neurotic, mentally ill basket cases, bless their little hearts. i could be living in a shack or a mansion and i’d still find something to whine about. i’m still young, but the window of opportunity is closing. no longer special, no longer gifted, no longer a prodigy. i used to get praised simply for existing, now it’s like everyone has forgotten i’m still here.
i went to san francisco. i encountered this homeless tweaker. he was standing in the middle of traffic holding a spray bottle of hand sanitizer and spraying the cars. he turned to me and said “sometimes you just have to, you know? fuck it” and then ran away laughing maniacally. he started spraying the people who were wearing masks and when they ran away he yelled “bunch of fucking hypocrites.” eventually he caught up to me and asked me if i “needed some sanitizer to sanitize the air.” i laughed nervously and he got lost in the crowd.
at one point i stopped to check out a store and there was this girl there. i don’t know why, but for some reason i blurted out “i like your outfit.” she mumbled a “thanks”, but i could see the mixture of fear, disgust, and pity in her eyes. as i walked away, the regret and embarrassment immediately set in and i realized that she probably sees me the same way as i see captain sanitizer.
my tea's gone cold, i'm wondering why i got out of bed at all
the morning rain clouds up my window and i can't see at all
and even if i could it'll all be gray
put your picture on my wall
it reminds me, that it's not so bad
it's not so bad
current music: type o negative - slow, deep, and hard
i literally just found out JG has a girlfriend. what. the. fuck.
i see on her on his timeline pretty often but i never suspected anything because he has plenty of female friends. i only just found out because someone on instagram asked him where he got his shirt and he said his gf bought it for him as a present. i am mortified, embarrassed, humiliated, ashamed. my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. i just wasted 3 months of my life that i will never get back simping for a cross-dressing scarecrow while he was busy fucking some turtleneck-wearing champagne socialist art hoe. i thought he was flirting with me, he sent me a bunch of heart emojis when i told him i liked him. this keeps happening to me over and over and every time i promise myself that i'll never degrade myself like this ever again. and then i do. "this one is different, this one is special." i am disgusted with myself.
current mood: amused
today JG got mad at me because he apparently just found out that i followed stonetoss on twitter. he started going off about how rockthrow is an evil nahtzee because he makes fun of happy merchants and train knees. i half-heartedly apologized (i shouldn't have to fucking apologize but i'm still hoping he'll post more lewds lmao) but i think he's still angry. he's an autist and if something triggers him he tends to seethe about it for days on end. sometimes i want to kick his slendertran ass, he should be grateful that i want to suck his circumsised feminine benis in the first place. you are literally a beanstalk in lipstick (admittedly, a relentlessly sexy beanstalk which i would like to climb, but a beanstalk nonetheless). the fact that you found an actual XX chromosome-wielding, chest feeding birthing person who is willing to fuck you is a miracle. but nah, he's gonna scold me because i committed a thought crime. OY VEY! SHUT IT DOWN! ROTTEN IS LITERALLY HITLER AND MUST BE BANISHED FROM NEOCITIES AND EXILED TO THE LAND OF 4CHINZ FOREVER! oh yeah, you can't ban me bitches. and even if you could, i'm a minority (actually, multiple minorities. that's right, i am actually a trenchcoat made up of 3 oppressed midgets standing on each other's shoulders). suck my half-jewish bisexual female imaginary dick.
*cracks knuckles* hoo boy. that was a long one. sometimes when i type out shit like this i have to wonder what all of the poor normies that stumble across my site think, if they're even able to comprehend half of the shit i say here. it would be like a tourist in egypt trying to decipher the hieroglyphs. the above paragraph probably reads like completely illegible babble to the average person. i've created this whole language in the process of documenting my pathetic life and i don't even know why.
current mood: flustered
i finally worked up the courage to tell my current crush that i like him. i feel like it was meaningless, though. he lives in another state and it's not like i'm gonna fly out to meet him. maybe it's for the best that i can't be in a relationship with him, i find him attractive but i don't think i'd be able to stomach his idpol rants and rampant autogynephilia irl. some people should just be observed from a distance. almost all people, really. 99% of the time, when i really start getting to know someone, my attraction to them fades. the blackpill is that most people just aren't worth your time.
i posted about this on another forum i use and 99% of the replies were something along the lines of "ThAt pOoR TwAnS GiRl dEsErVeS To bE WiTh sOmEoNe wHo aCtUaLlY ReSpEcTs hEr, UnLiKe yOu, YoU MeAnIe tWaNsPhObE." why the fuck are normies incapable of comprehending the idea that you can like someone without liking everything about them? people are not two-dimensional cartoon characters with no flaws. i like him. i don't like the fact that he is a member of a cult that indocrinates people who could have just been perfectly fine gender non-comforming folks in another era and encourages them to sterilize and mutilate themselves.
current mood: neutral
i shoplifted for the first time in a while today, and it felt great. i still remember the day when i saw a dude run out of safeway with like 100 bucks worth of stolen food in both hands. he didn't look like a stereotypical petty criminal at all. fit, well-groomed caucasian male, mid to late twenties by the looks of it. sharply dressed in a dress shirt and slacks. you should've seen the look on that motherfucker's face. he glanced quickly at the cop with the most smug shit eating grin i have ever seen in my entire life before sprinting off into the sunset, like lot's wife looking back at sodom, knowing of the chaos he would leave in his wake. i could make up backstories for this guy all day, trying to explain why he did what he did. was he an underpaid wageslave who just snapped? was he a robin hood character stealing from the rich and giving back to the poor? was he a hobo who killed a rich tycoon and stole his identity so that he could provide for himself and/or his family? but when all is said and done, does it really matter? not every action needs a reason. i sure know mine didn't. there's nothing to explain. sometimes a pipe is just a pipe.
if you're reading this, i urge to do something for yourself and only for yourself, right now. you didn't apply for that job because you wanted it, you applied for that job because you thought you would finally get that sweet approval from your parents. you didn't lose weight because you wanted to self-improve, you lost weight because society told you to. you didn't start lifting because you wanted to get ripped, you started lifting because you thought it might attract a mate. these are surrogate activities. stop living your life for others. do what you actually want for once, not what others have brainwashed you into believing you want. just for one day.
current mood: neutral
i just realized that i've never had a real relationship. all of my affairs with women have been chaste; more like a depiction of a relationship in a children's cartoon than a real one. throughout my entire life, only one girl has shown sexual interest in me. she was a chubby, dime-a-dozen jezebel with split-dyed hair and obvious undiagnosed BPD. she was extremely manipulative and two-faced. one moment she would be telling me about how much she wanted to fuck me (although for some reason my dumb ass never did), the next she would say that i'm "just like all of her abusive ex-boyfriends." sometimes when she got mad at me she would cut herself and i would have to bandage her up because she refused to let me or anyone else take her to the hospital. it really fucked with my head and gave me serious trust issues. needless to say, that fling was a short one. i suppose that says more about me than it does about her. with almost all of the women i've dated, i felt like they were using me as an accessory. a party story they could tell their friends about. in fact, the aforementioned girl immediately started telling everyone at school about us as soon as we broke up, to the point where even my friends were clowning on me. for some reason alt girls often try to out-freak each other sexually. i think this may have been what she was trying to do with me.
as for men, i have had sex with a single person, my friend ABD. he was conventionally hot, but it wasn't exactly a stunning achievement. this dude will fuck anything that moves. i will never forgive myself for being such a pathetic spineless cuck and letting that manchild treat me like an onahole to fuck in between the constant rotation of STD-ridden girlfriends. oh, and don't forget the various twinks that he would facefuck in dirty public restrooms. ABD made me realize why everyone hates bi guys. if you are a woman and you date a bi guy, he's going to cheat on you with another guy. if you are a guy and you date a bi guy, he's going to cheat on you with a woman. in any case, if you give someone head and they refuse to return the favor, run and never look back. this goes for both women and men.
i also had a thing with this one greasy semi-emo guy. i just remembered his name like last week, that's how hard i tried to repress the memory. in both cases, i can't believe that i ever found these men attractive.
i still don't know what "young love" is. is begging an older dude to pound you in the ass when you're 11 years old because you watched so much porn that you thought this sort of thing was normal young love? is watching your girlfriend come to school drunk and threaten to throw herself off the golden gate bridge young love? is trying to figure out whether you got scammed or if the acid in xan barlos is just really shitty young love? i thought my life was going to be all stephen chbosky, but at best it was a weaker burroughs novel-turned-hollebecque. long stretches of utter mundanity peppered with the latest cool and quirky collectable replacements for an actual personality, such as self-mutilation, drug abuse, wannarexia, and sexual experimentation.
one of my earliest recollections of interacting with a girl was when i was sitting in the sandbox moping for whatever reason (wasn't i a little bundle of joy? i was already an angsty teenager at the age of 6 - probably my most impressive accomplishment in life) when a pretty girl came over, kicked sand in my face, and said something about how i would have more friends if i wasn't so gloomy all the time. i think this incident might have marked the beginning of my descent into masochism. i'm attracted to women who treat me like shit because they're the only women that truly interact with me. a chick being nice to me out of courtesy is fine and dandy, but when a woman goes out of her way to ruin my day, that means she is truly acknowledging my existence. i am special to her.
thinking about making a whole page for my embarassing old entries from my middle school blog. unfortunately i'll have to cut out some of the, ahem, juicier details for obvious reasons. i've posted some pretty tmi shit on here but even i wouldn't stoop to *that* level. every time i update this site i feel like some creep in an alleyway flashing innocent old ladies.
current music: bedwetter - vol. 1: flick your teeth against your tongue and describe the present
i was descending down a flight of stairs today when i tripped and fell. i was exhausted and wearing my manlet boots. i just sort of sat there on ground for a minute or two because i simply didn't have the motivation to get up. eventually a girl came over and reached out her hand to me and i took it. she made some comment in passing about how it's hard to walk in platforms. that was the first physical contact i've had with a woman in a very long time, and it felt weird. to be treated with compassion, or just to have someone acknowledge my existence at all. i feel like a ghost among people most days.
i think i want to die alone. i've had this fear of water since i was very young but i often daydream about driving out to some bridge at night and jumping. feeling the cool air on my back as i plunge into the depths, where my phsyical form will never be found. i'm not sure if you can call it a fantasy, because i'm still scared. it's so dark that you can never tell just how far it goes, it could be inches or miles for all you know.
my mind is slipping out from under me. i can feel it. i have nothing more to give. i know how ridiculous and narcissistic it sounds, but sometimes i want a medal just for staying alive. for dragging around this living corpse all day, like christ carrying the cross.
i went to office hours today and this kid walked in with some blonde stacy who i assume was his girlfriend. he starts talking to the teacher. real cheerful, real upbeat. discussing his plans for college and whatnot. then, out of the blue, he mentions how "top surgery was the best thing thing that ever happened to me." i nearly spit out my drink. this mutilated butch dyke is better off than i am. i'm literally so abhorrent and repulsive that a woman would choose an actual fucking train knee over me.
whenever something like this happens i can't help but feel like god wants to torment me. all these years of repression for fucking nothing. i repeat the same mantra every day. i tell myself that transitioning wouldn't make me happy, that i would still be dysphoric, that i will never be a man. but whenever i see youngshits i can't help but wonder what could've been. deep down i still hate my parents for not letting me troon out. it's like the world doesn't want me to move on.
all these fucking years I just don't remember
all this fucking time i just don't remember
did i lose my mind? i just don't remember
did i die, am i lying? i just don't remember
was there a life before the one i know now?
was i lost and just never ever found?
was i found and then forced to forget
just a secret that nobody can admit?
current mood: neutral
pride month is quickly approaching. boy, i can't fucking wait for the government-mandated couple of weeks where corporations pretend to give a shit about minorities and unconsentually tack on yet another group that never asked to be included in the LGBTHIV circus. the acronyms get more and more ridiculous every year. last i heard they were using "LGBTTTQQIAA." what the fuck does that even mean? lesbian, gay bisexual, transgender, tractors, tapeworms, quetzalcoatl, quotients, indians, iphones, anteaters, and archaeologists? this shoe-horning, virtue signalling shit pisses me off so much. intersex isn't a sexuality. it isn't even an identity. it's a physical condition. historically, "two-spirit" identities were basically forced onto those who were gender non-conforming and if anything they're a remnant of a homophobic culture, but since white liberals love their poor colonized injuns they have to frame it as some sort of progressive non-binary thing. as for asexuality, it's generally a coping mechanism for trauma, another trendy label for bored teenagers, or a pathetic cope for not getting laid. no one is getting kicked out of their house because they told their parents they don't want to stick their meat saber in a fish pocket. no one fucking cares. god i hate asexuals.
do you remember when everyone still said "who cares what bunch of consenting adults do in the privacy of their own home?" pepperidge farm remembers. i hate it when gays try to to pull the "one of the good ones" shit. all this shit would have never happened without the gay rights movement. "i just wanted to get gangbanged and pissed on by a bunch of black men wearing leather dog masks in peace! please don't lump me in with another group of sodomites!" that's nice, now face the wall. weimar problems require weimar solutions. i hate uncle toms more than i hate out-and-proud degenerates.
trans issues are getting to a boiling point and more and more normies are adopting gender critical views. even the lgb are getting sick of the t's shit. someday soon, there's going to be an uprising. i can feel it. just imagine. dykes on bikes and white power skinheads joining together to fight the train knee menace. when the cissoids take away access to hrt alltogether (and they will - according to the movement's founder janice raymond, the end goal of gender critical feminism is to "morally mandate transsexualism out of existence"), there's going to be a whole black market for it. the less intelligent mtf train knees will turn into sexual werewolves once testosterone ravages their bodies once again. however, i think aydens are going to be safe when the inevitable train knee-vs-cissoid apocalypse happens. women are babied regardless of whether or not they pump themselves full of steroids. no one is afraid of some pube-bearded poonman. every time ftms and enbies pull some dumb shit it always gets blamed on mtfs. the people pushing for the "chest feeder" and "birthing parent" shit were femle enbies who felt uwu dysphoric when they were called mothers (despite the fact that getting pregnant is probably the most feminine thing you can do) and yet radfems still found a way to blame in on le evil tims who are trying to erase women. bitch, women are erasing themselves. i would almost feel bad for mtf train knees if the vast majority of them weren't silence of the lambs tier autogynephelic freaks.
speaking of autogynephilia and general skinwalking, i've always felt like my mother tries to live vicariously through me a bit. i wonder if she has repressed lesbian desires herself. she grew up in the 70s but she missed out on the whole bra burning feminist thing, so my best guess is that she wanted me to be the dyke she never allowed herself to be. when i was still id'ing as trans she was constantly shoving her empowered wombxyn moon goddess crap down my throat and sending my dad terve essays from 4th wave now.* this wasn't just generic transphobia, she had an agenda. always with the *wink wink* *nudge nudge* "well if you just turn out to be gay" shit. she seems to view me as some sort of mini-me doll of herself. she even encourages me to dress and act more like her. oftentimes when she sees an article of clothing that's flowy and "bohemian"/hippy-esque looking, she tells me that it would look good on me. but that's her style, not mine. i don't hate my mom. i don't blame her for acting the way that she does, and i genuinely do believe she has my best interests at heart (most of the time). i just wish that she would move on.
terves are so funny. i think it's safe to say that when you literally get invited onto tv shows to whine about how you're "being silenced", you're not being silenced. these people have the entire british media, the ruling party, half of the opposition, a literal billionare, and an army of wine moms who spend of all their free time bitching about train knees, and yet they still insist that they're some sort of oppressed minority. the terve cries out in pain as she strikes you.
current music: planning for burial - below the house
there is a soundtrack to my life, and it's called "can't stop the feeling" by justin timberlake. the saccharine, sickly sweet synth-funk beats of this 2016 smash hit reverberate through the choir room, pounding against my eardrums like a cock to the cervix of an experienced whore. the masonic golem repeats the word, over and over. when i hear this "song", i don't hear music. i hear the sound of some hook-nosed, hand-rubbing businessman cramming sweaty wads of cash into the hands of some mystery meat generic-american mutt. "dance" as a mantra. "dance" as a way of life. "dance" as a command. resistance is not an option. just dance. dance for the dance god. my geriatric music teacher follows his instructions like a cult member moving his body to some ritual chant.
in other news, kahoot has removed the feature to choose your own name. it's times like this when i consider becoming a hermit. goodbye, mike oxlong. farewell, nick gurr. check your mailbox, morten versvik...
current music: glassjaw - everything you ever wanted to know about silence
tomorrow is the anniversary of the santa barbara shooting. something about elliot's videos just warms my heart and puts a smile on my face. it's fucking cathartic, to see someone actually say the words "i will slaughter every spoiled, stuck-up, blond slut i see" out loud. it feels like busting a nut for the first time in a month. it feels like cutting myself for the first time. it feels like speeding down the highway at 100 miles per hour. it feels like heroin. this guy took every single thought that ever crossed my mind and actually put those feelings into words. women have seemingly endless outlets for their frustrations with men, no matter how irrational. why am i not allowed to say these things about girls? it's refreshing to see real honesty for once in my entire goddamn life.
i saw this comic the other day and i'm not gonna lie, it struck a nerve. so this is the famed misogyny that women face on a daily basis? it's supposed to show some kind of double standard, but can you imagine how happy a man if someone called him a "lovely gentleman?" for fuck's sake, i still remember this one time i was at a movie theater 2 years ago and a guy shouted that i looked like a rockstar because it was such a huge boost to my self-esteem.
if you ask a woman why she wears makeup, she will say "i don't do this for men." this is an outright lie. who do you think invented the idea that a woman isn't attractive unless she has big lips, defined cheekbones, and clear skin? their entire life revolves around beauty ideals created by men. women are the #1 enforcers of the patriarchy. they are the ones that put other girls down. they are the ones who created "toxic masculinity" by holding men to their impossible, ever-changing standards of what masculinity itself even means. they are the ultimate misogynists, mocking men for having stereotypically feminine traits and attacking their own kind for everything under the sun.
when your entire life revolves around your body, then that is all you are. a body.
current music: elliott smith - xo
current mood: numb
if you make a fool out of yourself every time you open your mouth, it's better to not speak at all. what's the point of having a voice if you're going to waste it on meaningless words?
i sat alone at brunch today. i started crying and no one noticed. i miss when people used to worry about me. the only thing worse than being mocked is being ignored. my whole life, i've craved attention and notoriety. i'll do anything to get it, positive or negative. it's the reason i created this site in the first place.
at lunch the black girl came up to me and asked me to hang out with her and her friends. i tried to tell her that i don't want to hang out with them but she practically forced me to. i guess i should appreciate her but i don't. she keeps embarassing me in front of the other kids.
today the pink-haired girl (apparently she's not an enby despite her striking resemblance to the "heckin' cute and valid" enby meme) was dressed like some kind of sexy secretary. she was wearing this top that showed off her cleavage, black stockings, and a plaid skirt with a pearl necklace and a choker. at one point she layed down on the ground and the others started playfully kicking her. you could see her thighs and part of her underwear. i guess it was supposed to be some sort of joke, but it didn't feel like a joke to me. i don't know why, but this whole situation really aroused me. i guess that perhaps it's best that i'm not a man, because if i was i would probably be hard as a rock at that moment. maybe this is the symptom of overexposure to pornography from a young age or maybe i want to fuck my mother or maybe i just need to get laid. i don't know. i really shouldn't be writing shit like this and posting on the internet but i will because i want to and this is the only thing i have in my entire fucking life that i can control and by god i'll do whatever i damn well please with it.
current music: negative xp - gamer
current mood: numb
i can't stop thinking about cutting. i try to avoid it as much as possible since it's painfully stereotypical "14 year old white girl who thinks she's depressed because chad dumped her" behavior but drinking just doesn't give me the same dopamine rush.
i'm still coming to terms with the fact that i
'll probably never have sex with a woman without paying for it. i'm gonna end up an escortcel. it's funny, one of the reasons that i repress is because no one wants to fuck a dickless manlet, but no one wants to fuck the cis lesbian version of me either. something about me is repulsive to girls. i'm kryptonite to women. it's like they can tell that i'm not one of them, at least mentally if not physically. i like to think that i don't have a completely shit personality. i probably come across as a bitter, cynical edgelord in my writings but in real life i'm very quiet and not outspoken at all.
current music: new order - power, corruption, and lies
current mood: numb
i am completely and utterly alone.
if i went to my parents right now and said "mom and dad, nothing makes me happy anymore. i have no friends, no passions, no ambitions. i have nothing in this world to live for", what do you think would happen? they would either try to convince me that i don't really feel the way i do because i smiled last saturday, or pat me on the back and say "hmmm, i'm sorry you feel that way. and i don't really blame them. how are you supposed to react when the monster you created seems hellbent on self-destruction?
i have no life outside of school. hell, i don't even have a life inside of school. the weekends are really no different from the weekdays at this point. i don't do anything besides study and write here in the little free time that i do have. "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy."
current music: orgy - candyass
current mood: neutral
on my endless (and futile) quest to find a friend group that actually likes me, i stumbled across a strange commune today. some sort of ungodly art hoe / tradwife mutant wearing a corset and a floral blouse, a greasy stoner, a black chick, and this redneck in a wifebeater with a bunch of tattoos of her dead family members. black girl immediately starts getting REALLY up in my face and following me around, asking me questions. it was honestly sort of refreshing to meet someone who can carry the conversation like that. and that's what i like about blacks, they're not afraid to ask the real questions. they don't censor themselves and they don't tiptoe around the hard truths. she starts telling me about how her siblings are going to hold a party and there's going to be drinking but they might not actually hold the party so she might hold it instead and how she's going to invite everyone, including me. i hope it happens (it won't). wow, my first party since i was a literal 7 year old getting pity birthday party invitations from the cool kids. the black girl seemed kind of detached from the rest of the group, they were just sort of doing their own thing. for some reason i asked them whether they hang out outside of school and white trash gives me this look like i'm the one that killed her dad and uncle and she says "yeah, but not with people we don't like." sheesh, i get the point.
the more i talk to people, the less i actually want to. there are many people at my school who resemble me, at least on a surface level, but somehow i feel more alone than ever. i never thought i'd say this, but high school actually makes me miss middle school. i miss when people would say what they were really thinking to my face. i miss jeff. i miss his anger, i miss his determination. the last time i felt alive was in 2019. my life is like dragging around a corpse 24/7. puppeteering it, teaching it do dance and do tricks and wear funny little hats.
on an unrelated note, i received babby's first hate mail today. i'm kind of disappointed that it's not longer. i'm honestly surprised that i haven't got some manifesto about how i'm LITERALLY HITLER and i'm a HECKIN EVIL NAZI CHUD WHO IS PHYSICALLY KILLING LGBTQHIV LATINX PLUS-SIZE SEX WORKERS. instead it was just a simple "fuck you" from "webrings." i find it cute how wokies get all flustered when you present them with objective statistics and facts. they don't even bother to argue with you because they know they can't, they just resort to flinging high school level insults at you. i wonder exactly what it was that pissed him off. i looked at his webpage and it's just a bunch of a pictures of some latino kid who i assume must be his relative, so maybe he read my previous diary entry and got triggered by it. hey juanito, why don't you relax and eat a burrito? it's really not that serious.
current music: type o negative - october rust
current mood: neutral
green hair girl (i'm just gonna call her "lettuce" from now on) posted a picture to her instagram. it was a list of a bunch of guys at our school who have been accused of sexual harassment. to the surprise of absolutely fucking no one, it's a bunch of josé's and garcia's. i usually don't buy into the whole "believe all wahmen" shit but when literally all of the hispanic guys at my school dress like a rejected member of limp bizkit and deal drugs in broad daylight (and on school grounds) i'm inclined to. they definitely seem like the type to grope a drunk chick at a party. i swear to god, spics act more jogger-ish than actual joggers. what's the latino equivalent of a wigger? a spigger? blasting their fucking earrape mariachi "music" at 3:00 AM in the morning.
i finally sat with lettuce at lunch. as soon as she removed the face diaper the illusion was broken. alas, fooled again. not exactly the elegant trad goth gf i was hoping for. many such cases. sad!
current mood: creepy
i met this girl (well, technically an enby, but enbies are just attention seeking girls so whatever) at my school a few days ago and i've been thinking about her ever since. she's unaturally tall, has green and black hair, and always wears this over-the-top siouxsie sioux style eye makeup. i ran into her again today and we exchanged social media. i did a bit of stalking research and apparently she is really into ginger snaps and brian molko. i can work with this. all i need to do is get bitten by a werewolf and/or starve myself until i reach peak 90s alternative femmeboi and i'll be golden. i've already got the "substance abuse and bisexuality" part nailed down. this will probably never go anywhere, but hey, a man can dream.
in other news, my mom scheduled me an appointment at the doctor's and i went there for a checkup for the first time in at least a year. the doctor asked me about my last period and other thrilling questions about my ~wombxynhood~ in front of mom as i gazed into the distance with a thousand yard stare the likes of which only a vietnam vet could rival. eventually an old lady came along and jabbed me with a long overdue HPV vaccine (as if i'm some sort of sex god that needs to be protected from the dangers of excessive and prolonged exposure to poontang) and they sent me off home where i would continue to procrastinate about my schoolwork and share my woes on a mongolian seal clubbing forum.
current music: uncle acid and the deadbeats - blood lust
current mood: numb
i went to the bookstore today and i needed to take a piss. i saw this woman in the bathroom. i couldn’t see much of her face since she was wearing the muzzle but i remember that she didn’t have a nose. just two holes, like a skeleton. i don’t even know how that happens to someone. freak accident? birth defect? anyways, her daughter was with her. the woman was making these horrible unintelligible noises, like she was in unbearable pain. her daughter was escorting her around, trying to get her to wash her hands. she asked her why "she was being so emotional today." all i could think about was how much i wanted to put this poor creature out of her misery.
it’s honestly amazing the extent normies will go to just to hugbox defunct members of society. gucci recently hired a model with down's syndrome. it reminds me of a trans "woman" i saw on instagram. he’ll post a bathroom selfie (presumably in the lady’s room) of himself looking like a cross-dressing hooker on instagram, and all the comments are just people telling him how stunning and brave he is. the weirdest part is that the comments are almost always coming from women. i can almost hear the stifled laughter and smirks when i read them. "wow, you go girl! those fishnets look great on you! it’s not like you’re a 6 foot tall man with a visible cleft chin and a debilitating untreated mental illness!" i just don’t understand it. it seems so cruel, borderline mockery. they look at him the same way they view a circus animal. throwing treats at him, teaching him to do tricks and embarrass himself further. daniel johnston has a song about this. "you say i’m cute, you don’t know how much that hurts. you don't know how it feels to live in your own dirt, like a monkey in a zoo."
current music: filter - short bus
current mood: numb
it's amazing how one person can ruin my entire day without even trying. today, at lunch, a girl passed me by. she was very tall and lanky in the way that a supermodel is. she was wearing a velvet miniskirt with floral fishnets and these massive stiletto platforms. 5 guys followed closely behind her. the way she walked, you just knew she thought she was the queen of the world - and in a way, she was. she was sex, the very definiton of it. if you looked up the word in the dictionary, you'd see a picture of her. she practically had these men on a leash. they way they looked at her like they were dogs in heat. you could tell that she enjoyed tormenting them, dangling the possibility of a good fuck in front of their faces. a psychic dominatrix. i wonder what it's like to have that sort of power. it's the closest a human can get to godliness, besides the act of murder. i would give anything just for a taste of it, if only for one day.
in the distance, some fat chick and her weaboo friend where blasting linkin park's cringe-core classic "in the end" at full volume on their portable speaker. the music felt strangely appropriate. chester was right. i tried so hard, and got so far. but in the end, it doesn't even matter. because it makes no difference how much makeup i slather on or how many trendy clothes i buy (the funniest thing about the entire situation was that i was a wearing a very similar outfit to hers). i will never have "it."
current music: the smashing pumpkins - mellon collie and the infinite sadness
current mood: numb
second day back at school. i should’ve written an entry on the first day, but i was too lazy. i have befriended a green-haired they/them and a bunch of performative dykes (trendbians?). well, "befriended" is a strong word. "i don’t have friends. i have acquaintances."
these people are not my friends. they are friendly, but they are not my friends. they talk, but they do not talk to me. i share nothing in common with them. all my life i’ve hung out with the theater kids, but i never felt a kinship with them. i just sort of looked for the closest approximation of myself that i could find and clung onto it like my life depended on it. if i disappeared into thin air right now, they wouldn’t notice.
i am surrounded by lost souls. walk around the premises during lunchtime and look for all the kids sitting alone. no one ever notices them, because that’s what they are. lost. i would talk to them, but sometimes i think that maybe they weren’t meant to be found. sometimes i feel like i'm a small child or a dog, gifted the ability to see ghosts when nobody else can. if they are ghosts, then i'm a vampire. i managed to semi-successfully assimilate into mainstream society. i feed off of humans - i have no personality, i'm just mystery meat made out of bits and pieces of other people.
absence makes the heart grow fonder. covid clown world made me forget that the vast majority of people simply aren't worth the time. i need to remember that the loneliness that comes from alienation is just a knee jerk biological reaction. socializing is not a cure. the more time i spend with people, the lonelier i feel.
now that i think of it, the only time i actually felt at home in a group of people was 2 years ago. maybe 3. i don't fucking know. all i remember was that i was in ABD's car with him and a bunch of other people. there was this flamer twink in the front seat and when the aux cord was passed to him he immediately started playing lady gaga. he kept showing his grindr matches. there was this one guy who looked exactly like a darker version of him and he asked me whether or not he should go out with him. i said fuck it, sure, why not (despite wondering the entire time who was supposed to be the top). i don't even remember the others. i just remember that for that tiny little precious moment, i felt fine. i didn't know why, but it was enough for me.
god i miss xan barlos. i’d be a fucking trainwreck, in out of psych wards constantly, but at the end of the month it would all be worth it because i had something to look forward to. going out and getting completely shitfaced was the one thing that kept me going. and the sex. now i have nothing. i wonder if i'll ever make those kinds of connections again. i don't have high hopes, to be honest.
current music: david kauffman and eric caboor - songs from suicide bridge
current mood: numb
alone again in the city of love. young couples wander the streets, like spirits haunting me. they don't seem real. what's new?
'it's been hopeless for a long time, from the very beginning. you will never represent, raphael, a young girl's erotic dream. you have to resign yourself to the inevitable, such things are not for you. it’s already too late, in any case. the sexual failure you've known since your adolescence, raphael, the frustration that has followed you since the age of thirteen, will leave their indelible mark. even supposing that you might have women in the future - which in all frankness i doubt - this will not be enough; nothing will ever be enough. you will always be an orphan to those adolescent loves you never knew. in you the wound is already deep; it will get deeper and deeper. an atrocious, unremitting bitterness will end up gripping your heart. for you there will be neither redemption nor deliverance. that's how it is.'
i'm trying to quit imageboards. i'm not sure if it will help, honestly. once you see the sort of things that people are only willing to say anonymously, you can never unsee it. the worst aspects of humanity, all documented in one place. it's the truest face of the internet.
happy 4/20, i guess. better to be godlike and reviled than forgotten and beloved. there's something weirdly admirable about it. two well-off, promising young men with a bright future deciding to throw it all away because fuck that. fuck getting old and fat, fading into the sands of time with nothing but a bitch wife, a white picket fence, and a couple of kids who hate you to your name. they went out with a bang in the most literal sense of the term.
went on out to grab a cup of coffee
left my dreams behind
the california sun was all i had for breakfast
and it burned my mind
and i don't know how much longer
i can feel the way i feel and never cry
yeah, i don't know how much longer
i can kiss another day goodbye.
current mood: numb
i'm failing algebra class. mr. s started talking about how einstein flunked out of high school. i guess that was supposed to be some sort of pep talk. it didn't work.
i don't even want sex anymore. i just want to love and be loved. it's gotten to the point where i fall in love with people i've never met. i see a girl on the street and i start to think about what our life would have been like together. obsess over them for days. then i remember how they see me, and i feel ashamed. how they would feel if they knew that i was still thinking about them, when they'll never think about me again. if only in dreams, they will see my face. you never forget a face. i suppose that's enough for me.
when i am not alone
i sever silent moments
building bridges with meaningless words
and only feel the distance further
remember being happy in our silence
i wish that you were with me tonight.
current mood: numb
do you want to know why i desisted? i'll give you a hint. it's not because i wasn't trans. most of you lucky genderspecials have no idea what it's like to have your own father tell you to your face that you'll never pass. to be looked at with disgust from women, and pity from men. to be treated like a zoo animal that exists only for other's entertainment, poked and prodded at constantly, having complete strangers speculate about your genitals (i once had another kid kick me in the crotch to find out what i had 'down there').
i am the most feminine person i know and all i want in this world is to be a man. freud would've had a field day with me. as a white girl, i am one of the most protected and privileged groups on the planet. but i would throw it all away in an instant just for the tiniest taste of masculinity. to look down and see a flat chest and a smooth, sculpted, curveless body instead of my conetits and thunder thighs. to go from a piefaced piglet to a chad with chiseled, angular jawline. and most of all, to have a real and functioning dick that i could fuck with. to feel someone from the inside and remind them just how lucky they are to take my seed. but instead, i am left permanently blueballed.
i want the real thing. not a parody of it. i want it all. but it's impossible. i know it, every cell in my body knows it. thousands of years from now archaeologists will dig up what remains of my physical shell and say 'this skeleton was a female.' the whole basis of transgenderism is that you can 'feel' like a man or a woman. but what does that even entail? does adhering to gender stereotypes make you a man or a woman? no. i have never been in a male body, how could i possibly know how it feels like to be male? there is no 'feeling', only being and wanting. in my case, the latter. i am haunted by the ghost of the man that i will never be.
if i could go back in time and change one thing, i would prevent myself from being exposed to the train knee psyop. i could have never been a stacy, but at least my adolescence could've been more normal.
current music: 'affirmative apartheid' by vaginal jesus
current mood: amused
i'm not actually racist but i have to admit there is something strangely liberating about listening to a song titled 'beat rodney down' while being forced to write an essay about 'the hate u give' as part of the American public education system's unsuccessful white guilt indocrination program.
current music: '1975-1978' by baudouin oosterlynck
current mood: numb
the emptiness grows like a cancer inside me with each passing day. when you're drowning in a pool of black tar, no one can hear you scream. i am impure. i will never be clean again. everything i touch is dirtied by my filth. i can't love anyone because everything is a reminder that nothing lasts. everything that is beautiful in this world must be destroyed - it force me to acknowledge my own ugliness.
sometimes i try to surround myself with 'happy' things and it makes me feel sick. like i'm trying to meme myself into not being a pathetic loser. i'm not some new york hippie white chick who recites positive affirmations to herself in the morning. look, maybe that works for some people (no it doesn't), but not for me. that being said, nothing really makes me feel better anymore. wallowing in my own misery used to be cathartic, but now i have no more misery to wallow in. just endless fields of grey nothingness.
current music: 'slow burn' by old grey
man, this album is a throwback. in middle school i used to lock myself in empty storage rooms during lunch and listen to music so that no one would bother me. funny how people often think of emo as an ansgty preteen genre, but the older i get, the more the classics resonate with me. i'm even more pathetic than i was back then. i've just learned to hide it better. replaced gnarly red gashes with bottles of 2 buck chuck. no one ever notices i'm drunk because no one ever talks to me. you know, my parents think i got over the 'trans thing', that it was just a phase. it wasn't. i just tried really hard to stop thinking about it and didn't go away but it's in the back of my mind now, all the time. like radio static in my head.
all my life i grew up believing there was something wrong with me. but only relatively recently i realized that maybe it isn't me, it's them. sex, money, power, escape. that's what makes the world go round. once you learn this, you can navigate through this society with relative ease. but even so, i seem to have this aura of 'loner' that normies can smell from a mile away. even when i'm girlmoding, it's like people can sense how pathetic and insecure i am on the inside. maybe it's just the fact that i am a female who is unattractive and therefore worthless, a genetic deadend. all i know is that every time i try to reinvent myself, i fail. they always seem to see through the facade. throughout middle school i dressed like a greasy school shooter which is much truer to how i feel on the inside. now and i LARP as a BaDaSs GoFf GrRrL and it feels like i'm wearing a costume. well, i always feel like i'm wearing a costume because this meat cage literally is a costume, but pretending to be an 'alt chick' when i would do anything to bash some 'goth' OnlyFans slut's nonexistant brain in is a whole new level of fake.
current music: s/t by giles corey
current mood: depressed
i miss drinking. i would snag a drink right now, but my parents are home. i miss the fugue state it would put me into, temporarily numbing the dull but constant ache.
i think i'm gonna be one of those people that just go hog wild the second they move out of their parent's house because they weren't really allowed to do anything as a kid. i was homeschooled from the age of 6 or 7 until i was like 12 and socially stunted me. by the time i went back to school the damage was done, being isolated during my formative years turned me into a massive sperg.
i hate it when normies say shit like 'just hit the gym, just make some friends, just do x and y and z and you'll be happy.' some people are just fundamentally broken. no amount of exercise, healthy eating, social interaction, or sex can change genetics.
people assume i'm some sort of incel type online, but the funny thing is i think most people that know me would be shocked if they saw the sort of things i write here. i don't really talk about amything to anyone anymore. besides just surface level small talk. i spent too much of my life being an open book and i realized no one actually wants to hear about that shit, so i shut up. but now i've forgotten how to open up, completely. i don't even talk about my issues with my therapist anymore. how would i? just suddenly say 'hey, i haven't felt genuine happiness in years and i've wanted to kill myself since i was 9?'. i think all of the counselors and therapists i've had knew i was a lost cause deep down, even if they didn't say it to my face. of course they didn't. therapy is a scam. they just want your money. everything's about the money. i unironically feel more comfortable pouring out my heart and soul to random strangers on the internet than someone who is professionally licensed to listen to me whine. at least losers on 4chinz are more likely to respond instead of just sitting there and saying 'mhmm. and how does that make you feel?'. every time i've tried to talk to a therapist it feels like i'm talking into the ether. it's not their job to help me. it's their job to sit there and pretend to understand or be listening to whatever you have to say. in one ear and out the other.
current music: 'unknown pleasures' by joy division
current mood: depressed
they put me on SSRIs when i was 8. i exercise every day. my eating habits are normal. i make an effort to see my friends despite the kung flu. when the fuck does 'normal' happen? when does the sad end and the happy begin? at what point do i stop feeling like an alien who was exiled from their home planet and sent to earth as a punishment?
people are herd animals. i am a lone wolf. people have no empathy or morals until society starts telling them that they should. even if they did, it's overwhelmingly clear that the need to fit in overrides whatever natural inclination toward empathy humans have. nazi germany is a perfect example of this. you start telling people that happy merchants are responsible for all the evils in the world and soon enough, literal fucking children are throwing acid at happy merchants in the streets. the only thing that seperates humans from other animals is civilization - which means that civilization is the only thing that prevents humans from acting inhumane. that's that need to believe to stop themselves from going postal. what does that say about humanity?
it's not just that normies don't think for themselves - they don't think. like, at all. go ask a normie what they think about incest, for instance. no doubt, they will tell you that it's disgusting. but if you ask them why incest among consenting adults is bad, they won't give you an answer, because they can't. if you asked a normie what they thought about homosexuality 40 years ago, you'd likely get the same response. it's all about which direction the cultural pendulum is swinging at the time. same thing with beastiality. people always shit on that yourmoviesucks guy because "ewwww dogfucker" but i have yet to hear anyone actually refute his argument. animals get raped and tortured every day in farms and no one gives a shit because it all goes on behind closed doors. how is fucking an animal worse than killing it? it's a cultural perspective and not a rational one.
current mood: depressed
i can't cry anymore. i want to, but the tears just don't come out.
current music: 'american football' by american football
current mood: depressed
i discovered my middle school crush's soundcloud. i haven't heard her voice in so long. and the thought that i'll never hear it again destroys me. because that recording isn't her. it's a computer trying to replicate the sound of her.
the loneliness is unbearable. i haven't had sex in almost 2 years. i've forgotten what it's like to hold someone you love in your arms, to feel your heartbeart against theirs.
current mood: depressed
'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' but it feels like the more i try, the less likely i am to succeed.
current mood: depressed
i’ve come to realize that all of my heroes would probably hate me if they met me. everyone starts to distance themselves from me once they really get to know to me. i’ve had people cut off all contact with me only to find out weeks later that they were off running their mouths about me and how "toxic" i was. how i was depressing to be around. i can’t really blame them. and i can't imagine my views are popular with other zoomers. even if they did agree with them (and i think that deep down, most of them know i'm right, unless they're completely brainwashed) they would never admit it.
i’m petulant even by zoomer standards. everyone knows that the planet is burning and the american education system is merely a tool to turn our youth into good little worker bees and drones. but i don’t think many are ready to admit that communism/socialism would never work out in real life, or that corona is just a spicy version of the flu.
clown world didn’t start with 9/11 like many believe. it started the moment gender studies was introduced into schools. or rather, the seeds were planted. at this point it’s so deeply indoctrinated into society that it’s like a hereditary mutation. today’s youth
are the children of the children of the millenials, who are the children of the hippies (where it all started).
nothing gives me happiness anymore. nothing. i find myself staring at a screen for hours. scrolling, clicking. what am i looking for? what is the purpose of this ritual? i don’t know anymore. i guess at some point this used to give me a dopamine rush. it doesn’t anymore, but i keep doing it. maybe i think that someday whatever tiny amount of happiness it initially gave me will return, but i know it won’t. nothing does. everything i do, i do out of habit. whatever end goal i was once supposed to achieve by carrying out these actions no longer exists.
current music: 'erotik' by lifelover
current mood: depressed
i went to my favorite thrift store today and it was unironically one of the most painful experiences i’ve had in a long time. the store was packed with young people my age. all of them accompanied by a friend or boyfriend/girlfriend. they were mostly e-girl types, but there were a couple preppy ones. there were two jocks/frat boys and i heard them snicker as they passed me by. laugh at the fat, ugly girl trying to be cool. laugh at the wannabe. because that’s all i’ll ever be. a wannabe.
i make fun of e-thots a lot, but i think that deep down, i’m jealous of them. i want to have the sort of power they do. i wonder what that’s like, to be wanted. i want to be wanted. i pretend to be content with being an outcast. i even play it up. i’m sure most people assume i’m some edgy white male incel type just from reading the "rants" section of this website. but i’m not. this personality is just another cope in a sea of copes.
i don’t know why i ever go outside at this point, honestly. every time i see happy normies, it’s like pouring salt in an open wound. a reminder of my wasted youth.
i can hear my dad talking about 'bruce jenner mutilating himself' in the other room kek. he can be surprisingly based sometimes when he's not spouting NPC bullshit
current music: 'the queen is dead' by the smiths
current mood: depressed
seeing skinny people looking good in their clothes makes me want to hate crime myself. i just got this nice top today. i ordered this cute top in the mail today and i was just staring at myself in the mirror silently dying inside. you ever just find yourself staring at the mirror for like 20 minutes straight out of pure self-hatred? all of the clothes i want to wear were made for tiny asian girls. i couldn't pull off any of the styles i like.
i don't have the willpower to become an actual anorexic. i just restrict for a few days and then go back to binging. i do it half-heartedly, just like everything else.
i feel like buffalo bill whenever i try on girly clothes. like i'm wearing somebody elses skin.
current music: 'forever in your heart' by black dresses
current mood: depressed
i'm never going to be happy. nothing will make me happy. there isn't some serotonin fairy who's going to come along and leave a new brain under my pillow. i've noticed all of my 'body goals' were other people; people who looked nothing like myself. i'll wake up one day, see a person and think 'i want to look like that.' i model myself after them. then i see another person, and the cycle repeats again. i don't know what i want. i don't have an 'ideal body.' i just want to be somebody else.
current mood: neutral
masculinity is a desolate wasteland of suffering, expected self-sacrifice, entitlement, toxic competitivity, incredibly high expectations, disposability, arrogance and impertinence. this is why so many young white men are trooning out these days - who wouldn't take the opportunity to escape all that? especially when you're a desperate, easily manipulated autistic virgin and you've been groomed to believe that you can be an uwu cute anime girl. i don't get why this is so hard for /pol/tards to understand.
i think it's harder for gnc men than it is for women. 'just being a feminine guy' is a fate worse than death. ever since christianity became the dominant religion in the western world, gender non-conforming men have been shunned. woman cuts her hair short, no one bats an eye. guy wears a dress and everyone loses their minds.
when i was around 8 or 9 years old, my dad invited his friend neil (who, previously to his visit, he only knew from the internet and had never met irl) over to stay at our house. one day we all went out to dinner together. we were standing in the parking lot outside of the restaurant when i bent over to pick something up. neil took the opportunity to pinch my ass. he then laughed and said 'sorry, i'm immature.'
maybe it's petty that i'm still angry about something that pales in comparison to the experiences of many. but the thing that really sticks out to me about this memory in particular is not the action itself, but the reaction it garnered from my parents. both of them just laughed it off. they saw what happened, and they laughed. they never confronted him about it, and we never spoke of it ever again.
perhaps this memory sticks with me because that was the day i realized humans don't actually care about other people, and women are no exception. women will easily betray one of their own kind if it means they gain something from it - in this case, if either of my parents spoke up, they could risk losing the friendship with neil. they cared more about preserving their social life then they do about protecting their own child. my own mother, who was supposed to protect me, who always told me to speak up if someone was ever being sexually innapropriate with me, stayed quiet when it actually happened. 'we all believe we'd run into the burning building...but until we feel that heat, we can never know.'
the japanese say you have three faces. the first face, you show to the world. the second face, you show to your close friends, and your family. the third face, you never show anyone. it is the truest reflection of who you are.
i am aware people already see me as a bitter and jaded person, but i have so much bottled up anger that no one has ever seen, not even myself. all that toxic masculinity and so-called 'edge' is just the tip of the iceberg. just another mask. i've spent so much time wearing different masks, creating all these characters for myself to play that i've forgotten who i actually am.
the headaches are back, and worse than ever. i could barely do anything before, and now it's worse.
i'm starting to think i'm not really trans, and this all just yet another coping mechanism. maybe i don't want to be a man, i want to return to the innocence of my youth, a time before i felt constantly sexualised. i felt sexualised by men from such a young age, having my appearance scrutinized. in a way, ugly men actually have it better than ugly women, because when you're a woman, you are told your entire life that your sex appeal determines your worth as a person. at least ugly men can make a name for themselves in other ways. this is why there are no ugly female celebrities. try to think of one, you can't. ugly woman are invisible.
i feel like my sexuality is no longer my own. it's been stolen from me. i was sexually harrassed before i even became aware of my own sexuality.
i can't run away from the pain anymore. but i don't know what to do. i've been running away from it my whole life.
current music: 'scott 4' by scott walker
current mood: numb
no one told me it would be like this. sure, they give you all the lectures. they tell you about bullying and bad grades, drug-fueled house parties and cheerleaders with bulimia. they tell you about the dangers of unprotected sex and AIDS and teen pregnancy. but what are you supposed to do when none of these things happen to you? or rather, when you're never put in a situation where you would even be exposed to these things? what about the losers, the non-people with non-lives? we're doomed to navigate our non-adolescence the same way we've navigated our entire lives - alone. they wander the earth, a shadow of a shadow, never knowing what it's like to be the center of attention, to be loved or wanted or even seen at all.
nothing could possibly prepare you for the ennui. the constant fatigue that comes with repreating the same tired routine every morning, and going to bed knowing that you have accomplished nothing. the nights you spend awake, staring at the cracks in the wall, imagining what could've been. you were warned about drugs and peer pressure, but there is no DARE for loneliness, and you would kill for any friends at all. hell, if your peers pressure you into doing the same drugs as them, doesn't that mean they see you as 'one of them?' do you know how many people dream of having that kind of companionship? it's a privilege.
there's something admirable about the way normies just trudge through life, completely unaware of their surroundings, and of the fact that they are going to die. ignorance is bliss...how i wish i could be ignorant. i can't see anything beautiful without being reminded of how it's going to die someday. i can't imagine what it must be like to live without fear. fear of responsibility, fear of growing up, fear of being alone, fear of never being enough - and of course, the constant fear that comes with being aware of our impending doom.
i think i got diddled as a kid, but the thing is i don't remember anything about my childhood and my parents deny that anything ever happened. there was my dad's creepy friend who was sexually innapropriate with me, but that doesn't count. i'm not particularly fond of my parents, but i don't think they would lie about something as life-changing as this. yet i displayed a lot of the signs in this picture when i was younger, and even now.
when i was around 8 or 9 (i don't remember the exact age, as i said before i don't remember my childhood) i suddenly developed an irrational fear of men, especially hispanic men for some reason, as well as teenage boys. not very PC of me, i know. i mostly got over the fear of men, but i still sometimes have a minor panic attack when i see teenage boys on the street, especially ones that remind me of my school bullies. this was also the age when many of my mental health issues started to manifest - including my dysphoria.
i'm so sick of starving myself constantly and not losing any weight. i deny myself of one of the only pleasures i have in life, and for what? nothing. this has to be from the medication. i'm going to taper off prozac and see if it helps.
well, something good actually happened for once. i made $35 bucks a really odd fetish video for some weirdo. yep, that's ya boi, classy as always. i wasn't naked so it wasn't CP (plus, i lied and told him i was 18). i still need more money, but this is a milestone nonetheless.
i can hear my mother talking to my math teacher in the other room. she talks about me as if i'm a retarded child who needs everything explained to me. i don't know why they're talking, but i can assume it's about homework. the fucking twat gives out these homework assignments the length of your average proust novel every day and then gets mad when i don't do them. even when i do the work, he always complains that i'm not putting in any effort. nothing is ever enough for him. the worst part is that my parents love this guy, every time they talk i hear them sucking his dick over what a great teacher he is for putting so much pressure on me. you thought asian parents were bad, wait till you see jewish parents.
current mood: numb
3:00 AM on a scool night and i'm wide awake. typical.
i can't stop thinking about that 'you will never be a woman' copypasta. it haunts me. obviously i'm not mtf, but still applies to me. even passing train knees will never be seen as 'real women', or vice versa if ftm. we are a third gender; fetish objects at best; subhuman freaks at worst.
i'll never forget the day i had to go to school to pick up something for a project, and i was standing in a line of other guys my age. they just knew. too polite to say anything to my face, but they knew. my tiny skull, my feminine facial planes, my dwarfish height, my wide hips. why did i ever think i had a chance? it was over before it even began. sure if you put me next of a group of girls, i could pass for their gay best friend, but put me next to a group of cis males and i'd stick out like a sore thumb. the most i could ever hope for is a tubby manlet.
it's little moments of truth like these that make me wonder if i should just go back in the closet. 'repress so you don't look like the ftm version of a hon', they say. 'if you transition, you'll become one of the 41%.' but all signs point to the rope. repress or not, i know exactly how this will end. besides, the idea of being buried in a dress viscerally disgusts me. i might just enbymaxx on t as a cope. presenting male gives me imposter syndrome.
current mood: numb
current music: 'deathconscioussness' by have a nice life
hearing adults complain about their lives is pure suicide fuel, especially when it's coming from the same people constantly sperging about how 'it gets better.' if by 'getting better', you mean 'going from wasting almost all of your free time studying shit you'll never use in real life and simultaneously being used as a punching bag for genetically superior males to wageslaving for a corporation that doesn't give a shit about you or people like you while being forced to kiss the ass of your sociopathic boss so that you don't get fired from your dead-end job', then sure, it gets better.
it doesn't matter who you are, if you're not at the top of the social pyramid, you're at the bottom. for people like you, life will always be a pointless rat race for you. you gave up on your childhood dreams a long time ago, so now all you have left are pathethic little goals. get promoted, get the raise. you tell yourself that once you accomplish these goals, they will give your life some semblance of meaning, or rather an illusion of it. but they won't. nothing will.
look around you. this is what it's going to be like when you're 30. this is what it's going to be like when you're 50. this is what it's going to be like until the day you die. you can cope by calling me an edgelord or an angsty teenager, but it won't change the fact that in your heart, you know i'm right.
current mood: numb
i remember almost nothing about my childhood before puberty (the onset of my dysphoria). apparently it's common for victims of abuse to block out their childhood memories, but i was never abused, just bullied.
it started really early so i missed out on a lot of normal socialization which caused me to become even more of a weird kid. it seemed like there was just this consensus that i was beneath everyone else (which i internalized). even when other kids weren't going out of there way to ostracize me, i could just tell. i can feel it my fucking bones, i'm not like them. alone. surrounded by people, but always alone.
i think my alienation was part of what caused me to gravitate towards alternative subculture as i got older. if i reclaimed being a freak, they couldn't use that word to hurt me anymore. it was a kind of alienation that i could control. being alternative/'goth' was probably the first identity i developed outside of just being 'the weird kid.' there's something strangely empowering about having people fear you, especially when you've been pitied for so long.
current mood: depressed
current music: 'cause of death: life' by happy days
i let it slip around my parents that i have a paypal account. they said i had to let them change my password or they would report my acc to the paypal people and it would be deleted alltogether. now i have to make another paypal account and start all over again if i want to buy hrt. honestly at this point i would rather just rope.
this feeling, it never goes away. i try to drown it in alcohol, i try to cut it out like a tumor. and yes, i fucking talked to someone, so stop asking me, okay? i'm on a cocktail of psychiatric medications at all times and i have 3 different therapists. so yeah, i fucking tried. but it's become a part of me. it's always there, it's like my shadow.
all i want for christmas is to be a real man
i am terrified that i am exactly like a combination of elliot rodger and bojack horseman.
the more i read about elliot, the more i see myself in him, and that scares the shit out of me. the thing was, he wasn't even ugly. he was just a massive fucking autist. like me, he was simultaneously a narcissistic entitled prick and a self-hating hapa. ER would've been better off if he actually just embraced his asian side. his problem was deluding himself to think he was 'white enough', not realizing that half asian men like him are treated like full asian ones with the one drop rule. had he embraced his fate, he would have been in a better position to address the dilemmas of being an asian male in a dominant white male society.
the thing is, even if ER did get laid, it wouldn't have cured his hatred and jealousy. he was an unhappy narcissistic cunt, he'd just continue to find more things about his life to bitch about. women/sex were just trophies to him, a symbol of social status. and that's what keeps me up at night. the possiblity that even if i did have everything i ever wanted, i would still find something to bitch about.
current mood: numb
current music: 'deathconscioussness' by have a nice life
you know, i was gonna cut back on the drinking because i'm trying to lose weight but today i got this message from my math teacher and i was just like 'fuck it drinking time' lmao
the way my tolerance for alcohol has increased so dramatically in such a short period of time is kind of crazy. i can't have anything in moderation. it's always been like this. if i'm self-harming, it has to be these huge gashes. when i had an eating disorder, i lost a huge amount of weight in like a month. i used to be disgusted by the taste of alchohol, now i can literally chug it like a fucking frat boy.
my mom walked in my room and saw the wine because my dumb ass forgot to put it away. fml
i hate my fucking math teacher, he just called me out in front of the whole class. i'm so glad i won't be alive to deal with this shit in a few years.
one of my earliest memories is my PE teacher sitting me in front of the entire class and saying that i was an example of what