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some words you can only spell on autopilot. once you stop to think about it you've already lost the fight

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staying up until 1am with your friends is like. wow we’re so fucking cool we’re so fucking badass we should go on a road trip or become famous or maybe hang out here forever because i dont wanna be anywhere that isnt with you guys im so full of love and joy and a live fast die young mentality. and staying up until 1am by yourself is like. for the third time this year i am genuinely contemplating suicide. good thing i dont have the executive function to clean up my room

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There was a lot of stuff I was supposed to do today, but instead I've made this:

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An ode to androgyny

When I was 11, I cut my hair short. Ever since then, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m an imposter.

That was the opening line to my college admissions essay, too. Here it means something deeper than a lack of desire to lead my peers. That was the age at which I started becoming a real person, more than just a squishy-brained kid. And part of that process of becoming myself was the beginning of my worship of androgyny.

Androgyny has been like a religion to me for years. It is a great comfort, a perfect depiction of who I am, and something I absolutely cannot escape. The concept is intertwined with my organs and bones, which all get wretchedly twisted and tugged when I try to remove the thing. If I pretend it is not there, then there is nothing to replace that unseen void. In such times of denial, my body is empty, its parts twisting around a complete lack of something. All this to say, I am androgynous to my core, and that fact is important to me.

Many people think of gender expression as one big sliding scale, with androgyny in the middle. The thought is not offensive, and serves perfectly well for people who adopt a simpler relationship to their gender and have no need for more, but I feel that thought is misleading. Rather, gender expression is a million sliding scales that all make up one picture. And my brand of androgyny has been an exhausting show behind the scenes of adjusting these scales. Some of these scales move freely. Some are locked in place. Some seem to hop back and forth on their own, refusing to respond to any coaxing on my part. And I must do my best with the scales I can adjust.

Put more simply, I must frantically compensate for the parts of myself that are unmistakably and unchangeably feminine. My high voice, curves, small stature, and soft face all must be checked with a harsh performance of masculinity. Despite my desires to deviate, I feel compelled to keep my hair short, and to dress and act masculinely. Otherwise, people can’t actually see me. The see this girl whose eyes I’m hiding behind.

The thing is, I don’t want to play that part anymore. I’m feminine and expressive when I talk, and it makes me feel like me. My face looks nice framed by long hair, and that makes me feel like me. I look better adorned with feminine touches in my style, and it makes me feel like me. But I cannot run wild with those sliding scales and push them all to the left. Because my own body’s scales - tens of thousands of foreboding scales - are all superglued to the left.

There was a time I adjusted them all to the left. Further even than I wanted to go. It was with my ex, who I really knew I needed to break up with long ago. In that case, a mental separation from myself is how I coped with my poor decision to stay with him every day. If I made this such a very straight relationship, and made myself very much a girl, then it wasn’t really me wasting my life. It was that girl whose eyes I’m hiding behind, and hey that’s not so bad, what’s that got to do with me? I’m safe behind here. It’s not my life she’s ruining. I’m not the one making the mistake. The void in my body was useful, it gave me space to hide.

I don’t hide there anymore, and I don’t ignore the androgyny. But that means I have to sit here in front of the million sliding scales all the time, fixing them constantly so that I don’t get hollow again. But I really yearn to not be in this room with all the scales anymore. I don’t want to do the physics problem anymore. I ache for my base appearance to be undeniably masculine in some way, so that I can let the loose scales fall comfortably and be seen the way I need to be. I loathe the implication that a masculine woman is similar to a feminine man. They are opposites. All I can be right now is the former, but I need to be the latter. I ache for that level of comfort within myself. I need the freedom to express myself and still be seen as myself.

tl:dr I’m really Agender. But in the way that I actually don’t gaf about pronouns or being seen as a particular gender, so much as my gender expression and appearance. How vain of me. But that’s why I’m a T-boy. I know most people don’t have the capacity to see beyond the gender binary, and so I want to hop to the other side of it and thrive in their confusion.

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learning that addiction is a progressive narrowing of the range of things that make one happy was kinda life changing for me. i apply it to everything not even just addiction i am always checking to ask if i am narrowing my range of happiness or widening it

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I can't stress enough how much I miss StumbleUpon

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jokes to make after failure that aren’t self-deprecating:

I’m the best to ever do it

Nobody saw that (best if said loudly)

No one’s ever done it like me

I could be President/they should make me President

Behold, a mere fraction of my power!

The public wants to be me soooooo bad

I’m an expert in (thing you just failed at)

How could this have happened to god’s favorite princess?

Nothing ibuprofen and a glass of water cant fix

I’m being sabotaged

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I just finished this book “Open, Heaven” and it was incredible

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I cannot get over the creation of adam one it's so perfect

top surgery tats

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To the man I love(d).

For 4 years I lived with you. Over those years we became ourselves. At times I put you on a pedestal. At times I made you a symbol of everything I hated about that city, and I hated you along with the rest. At other times we laughed and cried and talked and sang.

The enormity of those four years of bloom collapsed on a single pin-head of disgust and shame. I shouldn’t have made a big deal, I shouldn’t have told so many people. I should have accepted that you’d stay just a friend forever. But if not now, when would this all come out? Because no matter what, it was bound to come out and spoil the fun. I think in every universe, we have this one-sided text conversation. White hot anger distilled into a cold calculated text that you don’t bother to respond to. In every universe, it’s suddenly very over, seemingly for a long time. So cold and embarrassing.

In every universe, you were meant to be my first love. In none of them is it reciprocated. Each and every version of me goes through this to learn a lesson.

I am still so confused over what this was to you. I mean I know it wasn’t what it was to me, that’s obviously not what I mean. I mean how do you not feel the weight of those four years? How is it not pushing you to say something, anything at all, to keep this dialogue going. Were we just acquaintances for 4 years? So many times we talked about how all the other people don’t get it. And you don’t get it either, that’s fine. But I know you think of me. I know there’s a little pock mark in your heart where I used to hang out. And that’s what you get. Fuck you. I miss you. Write me.

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— ABERROREX

[pt: aberrorex, end pt]

("ah-berrow-rex", from latin "abhorrere" and "aberrare")

a neogender that defies any definition; it is paradoxical, indescribable, and incomprehensible. like a sentence that rewrites itself every time you look at it, it is both there and not there, and may be an undefined, liminal presence. it doesn't just exist outside the binary, but exists outside definition itself.

you might identify with —

- paradoxes, contradictions, and things that cannot be fully understood

- concepts that dissolve or change upon being observed

- cosmic horror and eldritch beings in the sense of vastness beyond comprehension

- liminal spaces; existing in-between, outside, or beyond any defined state

- breaking free from structure, identity as something that shifts rather than solidifies

- the feeling of something too big to grasp, like the universe, black holes, and the deep ocean

- timelessness, formlessness, and the dissolution of boundaries

- glitches, distortions, things flickering in and out of existence

- anemoia, nostalgia for a place/time never experienced or has never even existed

AEXiN - aberrorex in nature

Aberroine - masculine/feminine equivalent

Anom (from anomaly) - man/woman equivalent

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♟️ 　Voidguy｡

A term for someone who’s Voidgender, and feels masculine and/or presents in a masculine way.

Coined by﹔ RabidFreak

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late last night I saw this post on some social media i don't remember, but it was like "your month your alt celebrity" and after almost shattering my finger scrolling to december mine was mikey way. ive never been an mcr fan but i like some of their music and a lot of people i know like them, so naturally i immediately looked up some edits and OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD?? hes so greasy and awkward and quiet and his glasses are SO dirty and his the most gorgeous person ever and the way i feel about him while inherently sexual, is oddly violent and somewhat motherly i don't know what to do with myself

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"transmascs can't say tranny" "transmascs can't say faggot" just say you think transmascs are all confused cishet girls who dont belong in the queer community. next youre gonna say we cant say "queer" anymore either