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"You talk to me like you don't care. I care. So talk me better" I don't get it. You just want me to say what you want to hear not what I want to say. It's a different thing.

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I feel so tired of being sad, I hate that feeling that my heart it's smaller and smaller and I can't barely hold my tears in my eyes. I'm so sick of feeling lonely even when I'm around of so many people, I'm tired of feeling rejected every time someone tries to pull me closer. It's like I'm never gonna feel safe anymore, like everyone it's setting me up everytime I expose myself. Trying something new is more difficult and I'm just being more upset of myself. I used to be so confident, I used to feel safe, I used to be kind. I don't know when I became in the things I almost fear. I don't even know myself. Not anymore. Now, I'm just walking alone fighting with this feelings, with these fears and I just can. No anymore. I just wanna be ten again, when the world was fun and safe.

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That hole that appears in your chest when you realise that nobody cares a shit about you.

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Bisexual

It's funny when my mom says to me that homosexual people has a deficient problem because they love the same gender people. It's funny because she doesn't know I'm bisexual. What would she say if i told her? I mean I'll be the "sick one", right? She can't read my mind everytime I see something cute in a woman, she wouldn't see if I feel in love with a girl because she I'll see a friend not a girlfriend. That makes me sad. I mean, when it's a boy there are some rules in my house that I have to follow, and if the girl is the "trouble"? I can fuck her in my room and she'll never notice because she'll think I'm making stupid things. Am I really having a deficient problem? I don't think so, I think that love isn't a gender feeling, it's a "mind" feeling. I feel in love with someone not some body. I don't mind if this person has a dick or a pussy. I don't care. I just wanna love and be loved, but inside of my closet is everything dark, it's small... There are so many sterotypes that make me feel so bad. I don't like to be the one who doesn't care all the time. I don't wanna feekl there are more and more clothes. Imagine that one clothe is a year. There are some many T-shirts, jeans and jackets, more than 7500. I just wanna close my eyes and look at the world with colors, not only in black and white. I don't wanna die in y tiny little closet. Just wanna be free. Just wanna be me. Just me.

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Do not ever forget this.

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if you wanna understand why transmisogyny is so horrifying you have to understand the sorts of social and cultural patterns it takes to abuse someone until they will happily fulfill the role of the fetishized tokenized tranny bc any other option means isolation and death.

patriarchal society needs its sacrificial hypersexualized disgusting living sex-objects, and transmisogyny is how it tries to turn a human into that. i keep thinking abt this 4chan thread i read ~2013 shortly after i came out, in which a chaser talked about how he specifically liked dating trans women because “they have such low self-esteem that you can make them do anything”. he went on to talk about how he specifically looks for trans women with “dead, lifeless eyes” (aka dissociated from ptsd) because “they’re like a doll you can mold into whatever you want, then discard when you’re done, and there will always be more desperate for love”

that’s what transmisogyny is: a systematic pattern of abuse applied to a small sacrificial portion of the population to create a class of women with no claim to community or personhood, who will never be defended or avenged, who can be safely sunk into the attrition of patriarchy’s darker desires to protect the cis women, who after all could one day be mothers or some other kind of person. we are the class sacrificed to men’s violence and cis women’s violence. the socially unimportant. the weird and ugly. the punching bag. the blowup doll that talks. the mad artist that produces something great and then must burn out cause who could support that eccentric through life? the activist who makes huge steps for the better but stumbles on a community that would rather rape and abandon her than admit that it needs her. the queen of the dance who gets beaten with sticks as she’s leaving it and no one helps.

and its easy to do this, by painting the class as predatory, by making us hate and fear our own genitals, by indoctrinating us with an absurd amount of self-hatred, by giving us no out, no safe community, no one we can ever turn to. every cis person becomes a beartrap just waiting to swing shut and take out a chunk of flesh. and with fear and trauma we start to disappear from the world. we commit suicide, we overdose on heroin, we starve quitely in rooms playing videogames, or we become the tranny they want, deadeyed and always compliant and always ready to soak up blame. but whatever happens its the same: over time, we cease to exist. the person we are withdraws from the world until there is little to nothing left.

i don’t know how to stop it, but this has to stop. this is not something anyone ever should have to go through.

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Rebloguea esto si eres gay, lesbiana, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgenero o apoyas lo anterior.

[lxuisactiva]

Women March

“… the enemy is not lipstick but guilty itself, we deserve lipstick, if we want ir and free speach. We deserve to be sexual and serious if we please”