transgressivehug

[transgressivehug]

i want to be a girl. i cant be respected for doing the things that make me most happy when im a girl. people will see me fitting into that role so well, ill be a better girl that i was ever a boy. i am currently shy and small and aesthetic oriented and passive and we'll just plain immature at times. i feel so useless as a boy, they don't want boys who are like me they want girls who are like me and i want to be a girl. gosh i want to be pretty and be normal for being pretty. i want to look nice and be okay when im not strong, i am weak and i just want to be okay this way. i can be loved as a girl but as a boy i am lesser.

i flip between the two but its more so that i flip from indifference to feelings of girlhood. it's rare but boy moments do come, sometimes for a couple days. i think id make a good girl, but i ought to gather my sprouts before i tell anyone for real.

[transgressivehug]

please dear god just don't look at me.

i dont like her enough, we are just people who can talk about work and class. i want a friend who embraces me without changing themselves to apply to me. i want someone who i can be in love with. i dont feel awkward around. theres a kind boy but i cant dig deep, i'm just not a nerd. what am i going to do for a whole month? im just going to stay home and flbe lonely i guess. why don't i like anime? or books? i want to. they are so cool. i only really end up liking music. i had a dream where i was in bed with the guy who tried to have sex with me. i wanted to have sex with him when inwas in my dream but as soon as i woke up i was grossed out. i didnt meet many people i was hopeful to befriend this semester. i regret that the most. emmy seems really cool and so does noah and that one girl with the blue hair. they don't really fit my style tho. they are all so chaotic and i suppose i am too but idk i feel like i should change just to meld better together. i hope that scumfuck piece of shit teacher peter doesn't intentionally make me fail. if he does ill fucking drop out and sell crack to his dumbass kids. or something im sort of slowing down on selling stuff on my depop. i guess it's probably best to just wait till ive sold some more stuff. sammi is such a lazy teacher. he also really wants you to buy ans out of date and expensive textbook. he basically set up the exam so you're fucked if you don't have the textbook. that shit is pay to win. most of yhe reason i go there is because it gives me access to parts and good equipment also its a sort of base line motivation too.

here's to hoping i can ace my presentation! and make friends!

[transgressivehug]

your brain makes up my world and its running out of memory so it just reuses data for faces, interactions and environments

braile books

neverending skyscrapers

talking to spirits

I realized I was dead three days ago when I no longer had incentive to drink water, sleep or talk to anyone.

the end of our days comes slowly where the framework of the universe starts to corrode but so do you, so you are mentally unable to differentiate new reality from old. people look different, less complex. more like a doll that speaks back in trite sayings, then repetitive symbols, then agreements solely then a restless humming sigh, growing and growing until all that you hear from others is sheer white noise.

you can wake up and find that there is no one else alive.

losing teeth

insides made of thread and being pulled out of me

night fog

some serious contemplation on depression and how it works. there is some sort of satisfaction from pain both physical and emotional. (we are naturally adjusted to pain in our natural environment as a product of hunting.) depression comes from a consistent enjoyment of this satisfaction

i dont want to sleep because ill snap back into the cycle. i will wake up to late and feel bad or i will wake up early and feel bad so instead i just stay awake and feel okay. ill eventually have to give in though, it will always happen.

eco terrorist

im with the woes of those without problems

ill fill that hole with sickly (redacted)

ill still feel sore when i leave the store

i cant talk to no one

my friends just wanna break me

check my phone and now see them leaving

clothes to patch up my bleeding

all i see is white light.

i only ""had wealth

now i am my real self

until then

what i know for certain

i just want to hurt them

i just want to hurt them

injuries from a friend

they just want to love

10 years but its just not enough

i want to be alone

and when i hear you cry on the phone

i want to be alone

when i see how i couldve gone

i want to be alone

when i hear silence then a sob like glass broke

i wish i could be alone.

hyper reality and post-truth

tooth gloss

végétale

one quarter of the screen being blinding huge and loud but beautiful like the sun and the rest being perfectly boring and mundane

night blindness

a tiny echo throughout the entire world that slowly grows in feedback to become deafening hiss then a massive rumble reflecting off of the sky like non stop thunder

a day where nothing important happened.

the news just went blank or showed a burning log or the anchors sat around twiddling their thumbs and painting their nails waiting for something to happen.

once when you are in your mid forties. while you are in your home. you will turn off the lights and reach around in the darkness for your familiar furniture but when you go to touch them your hand falls through the place of the object. you realize it isn't there. you search for another but cant find that one either. you notice that your vision isn't adjusting to the dark at all. it is just pure black. with nothing to grasp for or even feel besides the ground you start to walk around but nothing comes in front of you. the living room, kitchen, bedroom, basement you were just in has now become completely baron. you are able to run in any direction completely freely. eventually the ground you step on starts to add friction. even just tapping your feet in place gives your shoes/socks/feet some extra adhesion to the ground. this negatively affects your speed as you attempt to run further and further away from where your house once was. the adhesion ends up with you tearing bits and piece of the cold ground and tracking them onto your feet. it feels like you are stepping through gravel, then wet sand, then mud until walking becomes a chore and you must eventually stop running. once you stop you feel like you're almost being pulled back by a million small spider web strands hooked to your back. you sink into the ground and becomes the dirt. this is death.

warm tar spilling from the gaps in the ceiling and filling up the room one drip at a time

breathing in water and mashing our hands into one joint.

fairies

your fingers come to a point

bodies of light

FOAM

GLOTH

at the bottom of everything there is only your perception

bolt cutters to your achylies

killing everything i touch

the fear of falling backwards onto a nail

computer souls

transgressive hug

i spill over (thoughts)

yell in water

virtual reality - all senses doubled

siamese twin surgery

negative light & positive light

becoming both girl and boy

the universe as it is unperceived

untouched the by machines of cognition

there are two worlds

you are always in and will always will be in the unperceived world.

a circular room with a ever lasting ceiling filled with webs stretching from one side to the other. condensation filling up the threads and dripping down and down until you have drops at the floor hitting at the speed of your blood flow. the drips are thoughts in your head

unborn as verb

leg with green blue purple and yellow bruised flesh sinking into skin in patches on knee, shins and one freshly applied to top of foot. scabs attempting to dam streams of warm red wet. cuts from toe to thigh, shine and drips let to rest on skin as beads. the ankles bitten thoroughly.

i pick who i date and i get good grades.

i walk around this park alone and think wow thats all that there is to it all.

i know how to live.

the frog that breaks its own leg to use the bone stub as a weapon

media made by terrible people and which its worth comes from interpreting the author

dismantled radio towers in untouched forest

you are driving home late at night and you are going down a road that you've gone down for years but the scenery changes without you even noticing to a foreign town and you realize that your home and the people you know are gone without a trace

getting stuck in a loop with your mind never telling you to stop

shard of glass in my chest

the longer it stays

the sharper it becomes

bubbles form in my muscles

and pop

hide in public

voluntary solitary confinement

drip feed

born without a body

drink BPA

i live in my BPA

</3

BLINK

a continual struggle of perception.

wisp: translucent like a fish but with green blue or pink tint. delicate beings with long legs, human with a set of seed sprout green wings and young vines wrapping along them. small fish-like frowning mouth.

wisps play in among the threads and fuzz on the iris. fluttering inside pulls up pure light like a snow globe for those who grew up in hell. they love to feed from the black pupil, globs of jelly acidic and sweet.

light has two speeds. quick light being the same as ours and slow light roughly the speed of a an uncomfortable worm squirming around until it can find a recipient it can crawl into and die

transitioning into a girl naturally.

the feeling of a wine glass in the hand. opaque liquid that leaves no stain on the glass like shiny shiny mercury which tastes like lychee.

crystal makeup jars with single drops of hue so pure the vision in your eyes flips and overwrites into pure white iridescence.

sharp jewel décanters filled with alcohol which tastes of warm mint tea and nothing else.

the best art analogies are to cuisine and the best cuisine analogies are to sex.

the sound of winter wind screaming through naked tree branches. there are few moments when spirits can be pulled up through the ground and into the reaching fingers of the tree in order to tell the world their now everlasting suffering. they tell their story in sheer

seeing your own death.

relapsing forever.

what a fucking cope.

recoiled when i touched his hand.

the vestigial mind, only unlocked using meditation.

infantile, pathetic.

imaginary friend:

to see your parents cry.

their costumes fail.

you can never sleep the same.

the doe will shake off its afterbirth in a shiver.

you are two.

obédience to a stranger

she controls everything i do

i am unaware, this deep love ive sacrificed my understanding of. i am just a passenger in my own mind, she is the me which i have no bearing over but she is also the part of me who i have influence over, like my body, she controls my lungs and heart. she is wise and i trust her with my life thats why she controls my vitals and essentials. anxiety is a result of disagreement among her and i, she can struggle and control my body but it takes lots and lots of effort on her part.

this is the guiding reason as to why those who are sociable tend to be happy with themselves. they can understand how to communicate with themselves by talking to others.

being in love with someone else is just a way to embue another vessel with your inner opposite spirit, they can mimic your own soul.

every night you give up yourself fully to your partner

they do not need to be the opposite sex

death is becoming entirely your spirit, the side of you which is unconscious. she is connected (or at least can be) with the rest of the world. in death you are forced to become the rest of your spirit.

the only way to die without suffering is with the acceptance of your loved ones. they are part of you and

the second half is embodied in rest, and stagnation. the inner most desire. those who have no will power are those who have succumb to their second halves. their second half will at the highest stage try to completely devour you. you will kill yourself.

dreams are an attempt at communication from your second half. sleep in the conventional idea of science seems completely irrational. this is the most important reason for sleep.

milquetoast

a man in a suit his being is amorphous and pitch black.