february 27th, 11:43 pm

I'm about to go to bed. I've been working on my computer for hours again. I didn't even get drunk or stoned. I just wanted to work on all this meaningless bullshit that's never going to matter. I mean, I know it 'makes me happy,' but still. why do I waste so much time on it? and I still never think my site looks good, or even just fine. whatever. it's fun to mess around with everything.

I woke up to put the order away at work, commuted in the rain. k was opening today. you know when you think you have a crush on someone but then they get a haircut and you're like oh. . .lololol. all that gorgeous gray-streaked messy hair. . .gone! poof! I finished the guns, germs, and steel audiobook today, and started a new one, which I saw p talking about it. it has to do with the CIA, secrecy, and the manson murders, all the good stuff. I went over the to grocery store next to my job and bought wednesday a hydroflask on a whim, just to surprise her. she needed a good, sturdy water bottle for her job anyways. she brought home a fuck ton of groceries with her mom, which I was extremely grateful for.

my body feels foreign, a lot of the times I shower only after getting really high. it feels better, yeah, but I also can't really see myself clearly. all the water in my eyes, all the distracting sensations. I looked at myself in the mirror for a while today. I've always been relatively hairy, but I think it's getting coarser. I put on an outfit that I thought would make me look good, but it just reminded me of how fucking stupid my body proportions are.

I don't feel good enough to look at when I try to preform some version of femininity, but it's not any better when I try presenting more masculine. I always look like I'm trying too hard (but I am.) I just want to look okay, for once in my life. not like some gross slob or greasy loser, which I'm desperately trying to hide from world. I'm always trying to hide from the world. I don't want anyone to know I'm at home. my porchlight is off.

I keep having daydreams about the Scenario, which is stemming into Scenarios. my name is a triangle. . .

february 26th, 10:53 pm

my eyes are so strained.

I meant to update last night but I got home and didn't have tons of fun. I got drunk and I forgot to eat anything beforehand, or even drink water between drinks, like an idiot. I fell asleep for three hours, and woke up for another two just to throw up, or lie down and groan. I had work today, but I just called out. I don't know, I wasn't even hung over when I woke up. I just didn't want to go in. I don't usually ever call out for no actual reason, but whatever.

it's been a quiet day all to myself. I feel like a nothing person again. I woke up around 8 am for good, after wednesday left for work. bagel bite meowed for a while, because he wanted me to get up with him. I did the dishes and left to go pick up my medication. I always like the walk from the apartment to the pharmacy. afterwards I bought breakfast, which was a glazed blueberry donut, a bagel, and cold brew. fancy cold brew, cold brew with OATMILK and BLUEBERRY flavoring. the flavoring wasn't a sweetener, either, so that made it interesting. I didn't hate it, but I don't know. . .I'll revisit that one in some time.

I had plans of researching the best bank to transfer to, according to my needs. once my tax return hits, I want to change banks for good. I'm still at the credit union of my hometown, so that's fucked. I lost my debit card once last year and I was out of a debit card for a month, trying to convince my bank from back home that I really did live in Baltimore now, so yes, please, send it to my actual, NEW address! I also figured that instead of paying off all my loans at once, I'm going to just pay of the one that accrues interest all the time, as opposed to the one that doesn't start until after you're unenrolled. that is, if I do go back to school. if not, fuck it. it's all gone.

and I also had plans to use the DSLR to scan my film negatives, but. . .! I took two edibles while walking to the pharmacy, and they hit right as I got home. I was on my computer, looking for the VLC file of the movie I had just decided to watch, when I remembered that I had a quick tweak I wanted to make to my 'test' home page, and then I spent eight fucking hours coding. I guess it also took me longer because I was cutting out and taking pieces of my old zines. at least I like the way my site looks now. . .for now.

sometime today I thought about the way bodies radiate warmth. how we feel lying on top of each other, resting on sides, laps, backs, pressed up against each other, the warm buzz between two foreheads two inches apart. I was going to get off, because, briefly, I thought my sex drive was back. instead, I lied down on my back and listened to that one album by frankie cosmos, the one that has sappho in it. . .my arms wrapped around. . .trying to keep it in. . .it's running out. . .my eyes hurt like fuck.

february 24th, 11:37 PM

I'm stoned right now, my tongue feels numb. almost heavy, but numb. I'm lying on my back on the couch, wednesday's gone to bed. my face is so warm. . .it's been a long day. I woke up and did almost all of my daily tasks, but it's okay because the last one I can do tomorrow, and it's not even that big of deal. I was going to bake strawberry shortcake with hot milk cake, to use up more of our whole (yuck) milk before it goes bad.

I decided I'm going to use my tax return money to pay off my student loans. I am conflicted, though, because I don't know if those even matter. especially since I'll probably just rack up more debt trying to go back to school. I'm afraid it could be better to just use the money to fix all my dental problems. but on top of everything else. . .all I want to do with the money is get more tattoos. you know, to work some more on my babies sleeve. I think next I should do a cabbage patch doll.

I finally faced it head on. I decided to try and actually develop film. I don't know why I've been avoiding it for so long. it could be that I was just afraid of fucking up really bad and getting discouraged entirely. I just watched a bunch of videos on how to do it, and there were so many conflicting instructions, but I just wrote what I could figure out from all of the videos on a piece of paper. I somehow did it alright. I think, I don't know. I didn't do well with the drying part, which I assumed to be the easiest part. it can't collect dust or too much moisture or whatever. I know the roll I developed different has many marks on it, lolol.

it eventually dried, and holy shit, I actually developed the negatives--not well, notably--but still, I guess I did it. I cut them into individual frames, and tried previewing one building a makeshift lightbox and using my phone camera. I realized that I had developed the roll I didn't want to develop as my first ever roll, just in case I fucked up really bad. it was the last one I took, when we went to the tennis courts the other day. I took two edibles and walked over with wednesday.

I had my camera and I tried to feel confident taking pictures of things. when I got really high, it was much easier--I didn't really worry as much. my friends were so beautiful, skating, laughing, hula-hooping. I really, really hope that I didn't mess up this film. it's on the same level as the roll that I took when I visited maggie in yonkers on their birthday, two years ago. there's a picture of me smoking weed behind some weird bush at sarah lawrence.

sometimes when I'm really stoned, I have these strange ideas. . .strange feelings. . .slow movement. . .every time I sit down, I think about it. testosterone is really doing a number on me. I want to know what it's like, still. just on my mind

9:30 AM

horoscope for today reads: 'there is a reason people are drawn to you. . .' which is very strange, because I feel, if anything, I push people away. not even like, in a 'oh no, I'm so depressed but I don't want to take anyone's help,' (trust me, I know, everyone who knows me closely has told me at some point that that is my character flaw, lololol) more in a, you could ask me about my day and all I will do is say 'fine,' because I don't like talking directly about myself. why would I engage in that when we could talk about something else? I know my end is going to come from my insecurity and self-hatred. my girlfriend, my therapist, and my closest friend, maggie, all have told me that as much as I hate myself and want to not bother anyone around me, it's ultimately harmful to the people I want to protect, and it's self destructive. oh god, is it self destructive. so I grind my teeth, try to make eye contact when I talk, and try not to bang my head into the table when I say more than three sentences at a time. I want to be a good person. I want to be good.

1:36 AM

it's late, isn't it? I meant to write an entry before bed, but wednesday and I had the silly idea of cuddling under all of our blankets at 8:30 pm, thinking we wouldn't fall asleep. a very foolish presumption. but you know how you have that instinct in your brain that wakes you up randomly from like 12-3 on nights you fell asleep without meaning to? it happened to wednesday, and then she's saying to me, jo do you have an alarm for work tomorrow? and I'm like oh no! do you?? she did, and I started to freak out a bit, god, but then I realized I don't have work tomorrow.

I stumbled out of bed and took my medicine, and sat with bagel bite in the kitchen and decided not to go to sleep for a while.

february 22nd, 10:47 pm

today my horoscope read: "let yourself melt."

this was an I am a nothing person day. I woke up around eight, it was snowing outside. wednesday went to the store to pick up some groceries for us. I had a breakfast of a mug of earl grey tea with oatmilk and carrotcake cupcake I baked the other day. later on, I made apple cinnamon oatmeal with walnuts in it, and peanut butter banana toast with honey. they're all foods I ate a lot when I was younger.

when I was with my first girlfriend, we would have dates at the edge of our town, where all the boat docks were. there were two parks, one more private than the other, I thought. I would make us peanut butter banana sandwiches with honey. as an adult, I find that using sourdough is a game changer. I can feel the lazy, orange warmth from the late july sun at the end of the day, at the end of the 'mile.' the mile is just the sleazy tourist spot in my hometown that is just a stretching mile of seafood restaurants, fish markets, dusty gift shops and bars. tons of people I went to school with had jobs there, and there was these two really popular ice cream parlors every one liked. we took our prom pictures at the end of the mile. I lived pretty close to the mile when I still lived at my childhood home, it was a two minute walk. late at night I would take walks in the still silence, slinking down the empty sidewalks. the water at the end was in a perpetual lull, pulling itself side to side, god, fuck I can hear the gentle swishing. the water would be black at night, the illumination of the big lamps dulled in its reflection. I would run back in the morning, sometimes, and push my body over the railing just slightly, enough to feel my toes start to tingle. there was always so much wind.

my best dates there were always the late afternoon ones in the summertime. I'd wake up early that day still, knowing I had a date. I would sit in my kitchen, eating cereal, probably, on tumblr for sure. I remember how warm the sun would feel on my skin, those pin drop quiet mornings I would spend alone, drinking whatever was left in the coffee pot for me by my dad. I'd probably sit outside, and try to read, I remember the maca in the back of our house, my grandmother's, I'd rock on it and listen to the constant chirping and buzzing of bugs in the grass. it'd be time to get ready, and holy shit, I'd get so nervous. I would put on whatever would make me look the 'coolest,' probably something like my keith haring t-shirt with my red all stars--typical. lololololol. we'd hold hands and giggle all the way to the park, probably complaining about how far it was (when it really wasn't far at all.) we'd kiss everywhere in that park, on the grass, behind the trees, in the miniscule bathroom, behind the boat, on the swings, on the bench, and the most special place, the shore. the shore is where you bring a blanket and hope to get to third base before the tide catches up to you guys. nothing like making out next to a horseshoe crab's skeleton.

I've been thinking so much about new york lately. I miss the city, and I miss my hometown, and everyone I love scattered in between. I wish I could go visit soon, but it'll probably be a while before I can actually consider it. I'm slowly trying to pull myself after from constantly questioning and denying that I have a new home here in baltimore, not just an apartment or a house. a home. and the people who live here and know me aren't my aquaintances. they're my. . .friends.

there's something about that warmth that I miss. the sweet, orange one that would engulf you in a thick haze, smearing itself all over everything, dripping like honey. my pocket memory golden hours. the windows in this apartment aren't the greatest for rooms full of sunlight, but that's okay. I don't really need it, but one day again, it'd be nice to live in such a nice space. a space where I can 'let myself melt.' melt. . .melt into what? into my bed, like I always am (probably not.)

a dream I had last night has left me with strange thoughts all day. I slept for so much of today, too. I want my period to be over, I think its making me have weird hormone reactions or whatever, maybe its the t, maybe its both, maybe its not of them, and I'm actually going to die from being so dramatic. my dream made me think of my bad idea, my really bad, stupid idea, it's not that bad but. . .you know when you don't want to let yourself get into something because you know you're going to prove yourself right by being wrong or messing up and embarassing yourself? what could be so embarassing about honeycomb, like honey drips, between my lips drips out the sweet, sweet, sweet soft, warmth, languid touch, hands melting into skin melting into hand melting into neck melting into my body enveloped by the sun, I feel so warm, so warm.

february 21st, 10:01 pm

I woke up in the back of my mind again. opening went fine, I opened with m today. it was too cold to even catch the bus, but I still made it. it was pretty slow, as it always is lately. we were technically short-staffed today, but it really made no difference. I got to leave around twelve, which was nice, especially since most of the ice on the sidewalks had finally melted away. (don't you wish) every day is like sunday, as morissey once sung (ew.)

I finished the required reading for book club this week, but p was still too hung-over to join today. the book isn't hard to read at all, but I'm finding it harder to read at some points because you just get so uncomfortably furious. there is a never-ending list of absolute gut-wrenching atrocities attributed to this hellish country. the world's biggest terrorist organization. I'll probably upload an outline of my notes and final thoughts on here sometime, once we finish. I have yet to finish my sister outsider page, though. I'm biting off so much, maybe I shouldn't even chew. let's just swallow whole.

I took more of the edible, then layered it, isn't that amazing? I did exactly what I didn't want to do again last night. but I just can't fucking sit in my own head for so long. I managed to read all sixty pages with annotations and actually coded for a few hours for the first time in weeks, so I suppose it is not a loss. but I'm just annoyed at myself, what the fuck is wrong with me, I literally told myself I would cut back for one fucking day. I'll try again tomorrow, but I probably won't, I'll eventually run out of edibles and wait a while to buy them again. I guess I'm too far gone to deny that I'm a stoner (again ???) and I just smoke a lot of weed every day now.

t is changing my menstruation cycle. it's changed a lot, which I think means sooner or later it'll finally just stop. I haven't really paid much attention to my junk recently, since my sex drive took a deep plunge, but I finally realized that it has grown some more. two months in and I have a dick, isn't that so much fun. sometimes I wonder if I should put a content warning that I'm about to talk about my junk or sex or drugs or whatever else that's kinda TMI but I guess this is my journal, and it's just apart of the natural flow of recollections I go over when I write.

last week I felt so gross physically, sometimes I feel so ugly I get upset deep down that I have to subject people to having to look at me or hear me speak. it was nearing that level, mostly anytime I had to interact with anyone. does everyone envision how people percieve them (and in what ways they find you attractive?) god, the way I feel about myself had done an incredible one eighty.

I needed to be sexy, or pretty, in that divine, soft, mysterious, feminine way. which for so long, I tried really hard to stray from, especially since I alreaady knew that was a performance I didn't really wish to engage with. to preform a type of beauty that had an underlying meaning of being sexually attractive enough for every one else, or more importantly, men. lololol. until I finally did engage, it ended up real bad, and it destroyed the way I looked at myself. I think I already talked about this weeks ago. who knows?

I don't want to be seen like that, I guess. I always have, but before, I never really accepted that I could feel confident in myself, and my oww attractiveness, without forcing myself to be more traditionally feminine. I thought that if I tried to present any other way, I shouldn't expect for people to still find me attractive, because I couldn't "pull it off." god, what kind of fucked up thinking was I doing all the time? it all sounds so trivial now.

and that's not even touching on the fact that I actively thought about what'll make me the most attractive to everyone--which, I promise, isn't how I think most of the time now. now all i think about is god please no one fucking think about me i think too much about other people though i try to reach out and make myself feel present but it never really works i am falling through the mirror falling through my arms over the bridge under the roof over the moon under the sun god god god god fucking damn it god fuck god fuck god fuck fuck fuck

february 20th, 11:16 pm

I'm running down the sidewalk frozen with a thin, hard layer of sleet right on top. my shoes slip and slide and slip and side and I don't care. every time I feel like I am going to fall, I just don't. my nose is dripping from the exertion of energy and the cold, whipping winter wind. I'm laughing, I think, at least, I can feel my mouth opening, my lips grinning, and the back of my throat move. but I can't hear anything, all I can hear is the slight crunch of the ice beneath my feet, the ice that has made feel me invicinble. I step down one more time, and then, I have never felt anything again.

today I showed up to work around seven. it didn't really matter anyways, we're so slow in the mornings. I was so fucking pissed getting to work because I did have to run across frozen snow (with my worn down doc marten maryjanes) to catch the bus that was way too fucking early. isn't it funny that the bus that is usually always late, especially on weekends, ESPECIALLY during snow/iced out roads, and yet, almost left me behind, despite me showing up five minutes early? must've been a good day for the driver.

today I worked from seven to one thirty, although it was supposed to be twelve. originally four thirty to ten forty five even, but the order didn't come in today. I covered for my coworker c because she had 'nightskiing' to do in pennsylvania, so. whatever. I've been writing on the cups lately, it's just fun. my coworkers started doing it, too. the customers like it, but they better not like it too much. we'll get tired eventually, lol. my favorite thing to write is "you're a star!" and then incorporate a star in there somehow. my favorite is turning the 'a' into a star, when I'm writing it in all caps.

I got my period as a lovely little delight in the middle of my shift. it made sense, I guess. this whole past week I've spent feeling so fat, and ugly, and insecure, especially about my face. I had broken out a bit, but I chalked it up to testosterone. but, no. it's the other set of hormones, the ones that control when they let me know I'm not pregnant (thanks.) but since then, I've felt better. whenever I realize that I've been feeling shit, but then realizing it's due to my period, most of my worries dissolve. it's the goddamn rationality.

I worked with k today. don't know how the crush is going now, maybe dying out. I'm probably just getting bored. she plays stardew valley on her phone, I do think that's adorable. I told her I liked her hair today, and I did think about touching it. I didn't tell her that part, but imagine if I did. I imagine it's soft, but maybe a little greasy from always being under her hat. I do like hair.

started doing the 'old man' bit with her without noticing. I learned it from being with him. I felt so grossed out at myself when I realized. she's older than him, too. "you really think I'm that old," she laughed when I joked with her. "gee, thanks." in my head, I thought, yeah, I do, but that's not an issue for me. it doesn't actually feel as bad as it was with him because, I'm never going to seriously pursue it, I doubt she's ever thought about me like that for a brief moment, and it's just never going to actually ever happen because I know it won't and it can't and it won't and yeah, well, maybe, except not.

that last sentence didn't make much sense, did it? I guess I did also forgot to include that my attraction isn't fabricated from coercion whilst ~*~under the influence~*~ . . .I often think about that. every time I have had sex with a man, or even any other sexual contact, it's been due to coercion. this guy in high school I used to be friends with texted me over the summer, actually. he apologized to me, apparently he suddenly realized that he did something fucked up to me when we were fifteen. I said it was no problem, I didn't really remember. but I totally did. the other men who I've had sex with don't even know. . .

I don't even think they think what they did was fucked up. I mean, I guess they did conclude that I wanted it. it was always just let's talk about this thing you actually won't be able to say anything about because I'm talking so much, pause, you're really cute, kissing, forceful kissing, hands down my torso, hips, thighs, ass, tits, neck, back of head, take your shirt off, what about those pants, do you have a condom, I'm out, oh you found one, okay, oh you feel so good, are you ok? are you ok? I'm so good. I'm sooo good.

sex with men was awful. dubious consent aside, it just sucked. this is coming from a person who really likes sex, and all different kinds of it, and who really loves to switch. so honestly, it is a little hard to disappoint me, but I guess I truly am a lesbian. sometimes I don't even know what that word holds for me. there are some nonbinary people I find myself attracted to, but I don't think they'd want to be with someone who considers themself a lesbian. that makes sense though, like that distinction. I wasn't going to lie, I was curious to see if t really activated that boy attraction that a lot of transmascs seem to get when they go on t, but ehhh. it's most definitely just the confidence boost, as the reddit forum boards hypothesized.

there's also no feeling like the feeling of being with another trans person (yeah I'm finally using that word for myself, screw it, I'm literally transitioning.) or gender non-conforming, what have you. there's this weird unspoken understanding, the different way your body moves and reacts and acts and feels and presses against. safe, even. like you can say what you really feel, even if it's super hard. for me, it just feels like less of an active performance, and more of just doing, not worrying how you're going to really look (does my mouth look stupid around this ****?) t4t relationships are real nice. I can't say I'm t4t until I stop crushing on forty year old cis lesbians. gnc4gnc is more like it.

I got home today and I ate half of these insane edibles I made yesterday. well not half of it all, but half of one of the cupcakes. I made a dozen cardamom carrot cake cream cheese cupcakes with kief in the oil. they work well, which I'm very happy to know. I was very worried they would suck, especially since I actually did not make them for myself. they were a special batch for robi, cus he's sweet. but they did come out rather potent. I also ate another edible on top of that one, though, just the medical gummies, though. strawberry.

don't know what the hell I was thinking. to knock myself out? to numb it all? to feel like I put my body is cloud, just to wake up a few hours later, with a slightly strained headache? I don't know. lately, I just keep wanting to get higher and higher and higher. I should probably stop. I will try not to smoke any weed tomorrow, or at least not use edibles, or whatever. this isn't a problem, I think. I have all my eggs in the basket, or enough eggs, or just a few, or god fucking daaamnit. I'm just so depressed, man. I'm so fucking sad.

my cat likes to get me to spoon him while he goes to sleep. what more could I ask for out of this cruel, miserable existence?

february 18th, 10:30 pm

. . .sometimes. . .I am quiet because I have been enveloped by all this brain fog. . .

as always, my beloved, I'm listening to fiona apple. I couldn't stop listening to her cover of I want you. I feel like I'm falling into her voice. I love the way her voice grates against my ears. I'm having such strange thoughts, lately, you know. all over the place, everywhere. I wish I could stay all put together.

I keep on wanting things I shouldn't really want. some are bad, some are probably not good ideas. but I still imagine and I wonder and I see the shadows, and feel the pressure, and smell the shift. is it so bad that I want to know what it's like to go back to that fogged-up bus in march-april-whatever to tell myself then what I know now! did you know testosterone is making me realize people I was initially irked by are people I'm attracted to? what does it mean when my initial response to attraction is to dig it under forced contempt?

using strap-ons is different for me now, I think. lets say is another effect of t. I've been making my way through gregg araki films, I think totally fucked up is one of my new favorite movies. I'm going to watch it again soon, I'll probably make wednesday see it with me. the boyfriend of the guy who kills himself in the end? he has exactly what kind of energy I want to give off. that sounds awful

it's been a long day of driving under a uniformly grey sky. you're making silly jokes, I'm barely listening. I have my hand up your skirt, I can feel your soft skin, so warm, you're laughing, gasping. I wonder why I think about this so often.

feburary 17th, 10:08 pm

I imagine myself lately withering like a leaf off a stem.

it was my day off today, and I had the apartment to myself. I woke up around eight thirty, and had gotten up by nine. wednesday fed bagel bite before leaving for work today. he was still pretty noisy, but he's just a talkative kitty. I noticed an ache in my shoulder blade, probably from constant binding and/or constant horrible posture. it's still here. I did all the daily chores at once. I swept, did the dishes, wipe down all the counters, put away the laundry, washed all of our dirty masks, and boiled the washclothes to sanitize them. I even cleaned resin out of our bong. I feel like I'm breaking apart at the seams, everywhere, all the time.

I took an edible and smoked a lot of weed and still I did not feel enough. I walked to a tea shop and could barely feel my face, probably from the cold. I have no idea how I forced words out of my mouth. I got a tin of looseleaf earl grey, a matcha oatmilk latte, and a blueberry pastry. everything was out of focus for a while. I walk around with my hands over my eyes, just so I can purposefully fall and hurt myself real bad. I feel like I stalk around every corner, looking out at everyone with shaken, fear-stricken eyes. it's so evident in everything I do. I'm so paranoid I'm putting on a preformance that bothers everyone I know. I want to know what version of myself is okay for me to be. I can't make anyone I talk to understand what I mean. I feel so crazy lately.

I want to smoke again real bad. I look out unto the balcony when it gets to be a bit much. I haven't smoked a cigarette all winter. maybe I'll have just one, just one. I can't figure all this surgery shit out anymore. who cares if I have to bind forever? my back and shoulders and ribs already ache all the time, what's the use? and there's no use in binding if I just sleep all day, anyways.

dear diary, my bullshit adult angst has a body count. one, which is mine. I've died of self embarrassment, experienced by my future self when she rereads this entry and knocks herself out for sounding so fucking stupid.

feburary 15th, 11:04 pm

as fiona apple sings. . .I don't cry when I'm sad, anymore, no, no. . .

the man I'm currently on the internet phone with just laughed and said, "when did you first have gender non-congruent feelings? haha, gender non-congruent. wouldn't that be a fantastic name for a band?" it would be. gender non-congruent degenerate fucks being freaks with their transgenderism and deviant hormone therapies.

it's so far up

feburary 12th, 10:30 pm

currently writing this entry as bleach is burning my scalp. I'm used to it, though. I've done this so many over and over the past year and half.

I keep writing entries every other day, instead of daily, which is not my intention. I want to write daily entries, but I guess I'm still following one of my resolutions, which is to write daily. in fact, lets go through all my resolutions and see if I've worked on them, seeing as we're a whole month into the year. (the bleach is really burning now. it's on my scalp, because I only have an inch of hair on my head right now. GAAAAAAAH)

I'd like to return home.