Where to start, where to start… Y’know, I hate having to “start things up” like this. It gets repetitive, having to explain the jist of who i am. What’s the point of writing this then if I’m just explaining myself? sigh.
So here I am, for everyone to see. (By everyone I mean the one or two people reading my first post. Heheh, they most likely aren’t going to see this…)
I’m listening to Lo-Fi hip-hop, as usual. It’s a helpful way to cope with my stress, or what i think is stress. It may be some underlying problem that’s digging inside of me, going deeper and deeper everyday. You’ll never know! Whatever it is, the music calms it down a bit.
I like drifting off when I listen to it. I don’t know where, but it feels good…
I’ve found myself crying to it before, many times actually. It brings back memories. Whether they’re good, or anything but, really depends on the song specifically. There are times I cry normally, if I injure myself I would consider that normal crying. Then there are the times where it’s not crying, it’s me having a complete mental breakdown.
At this point I’m just trailing off.
I just want- I just want a lot of things right now. Things I can’t have. Or maybe it’s just one thing. To accept myself. I can’t. My mind will not let me. I feel like myself, but I can’t accept it. The way I present myself to people doesn’t match up to the way I feel about myself.
It’s the worst feeling. Having people just assume your gender subconsciously because that’s what you look like, and nothing else. Like this, “Hey there, random human being that just stared at me while passing me in the hallway! You probably don’t know what I identify as, but I look like a boy. So why don’t you assume I’m a boy? Why don’t I just go up to you, and make your life a little bit easier by just straight up lying to you that I am the gender I appear to be? Huh? YOU HAPPY NOW?”
Sometimes I just hate it when people look at me. Even for a second, because I don’t know what they’re thinking about me. This person sitting next to me could’ve looked at me and could’ve thought anything about me! How old are they? Are they going to talk to me?
What’s their gender?