I have an issue.
One of many.
I have a problem of deciphering dreams from reality. No one understands when I say that. It's always "How can you not tell what your dream was? It's a dream." Yes, it was a dream, but that doesn't make it any less real that every day life. I live in this dream world all the time. I don't know how to describe it, but it's me. I will imagine these complex situations before I go to bed and it'll seem so real, and transfer into my actual dreams. When I wake up, I feel as though some of the things have happened. I'm always worried about the things that I will come out of my mouth, because I'm afraid they happened in my dream world. Don't get me wrong, I love my dream world. Dream me is kick ass. She takes charge and doesn't let things get to her. She always is in control and she is so damn sexy. I love dream me - but she scares me at the same time. My whole made up world scares me. No one knows about it, no one knows what goes on in it, no one actually knows what I go through. I want to connect with people, but they physically cannot. They can't reach into my dream world and interact with me. It's half of my life. Half of my life that no one knows what goes on, or rather no one asks me what goes on.
...
I need to make an adjustment to my perfect husband.
He will understand my odd behaviors, and embrace the shit out of them.
In other news, I missed out on an aids party at the Gay 90's. This week's danger: foam party. Narrowly avoided that one. I do not see how that party would be fun, I wouldn't be able to see, and when we left the club, we'd all be dying in the below freezing weather. No. No thank you.
I want my boobs now. I want to be thin now. I want to take charge of my life now.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Thursday, November 22, 2012
blurb
boys are my drug. and I am addicted. all I want to do is stroke their beautiful bodies. if I could just lay in bed all day with a half-naked, attractive man - that would be the life. please and thank you.
that's all I needed to say.
for now.
that's all I needed to say.
for now.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
That's Fucking Amazing
Here's my real blog post, Molbuns. The one where I explain what's been going on in my life for the past few weeks. It's been a whirlwind.
You know that feeling when you aren't sure if something is true, and then you tell it to a few people, and then when they repeat it back to you it sounds realer and realer each time? I had this hunch...and I told you a little about this hunch, Molly. The hunch was that maybe, perhaps, I would be happier if I were a girl, and I hunched it because suddenly one day I felt utterly defeated, like the universe sat on me and farted. I wanted to wear high heels, damn it, and I wanted to brush my long hair and to have a skinny waist to dance with and for god's sake I wanted to have the kind of sex you don't see in movies, where two people are so drunk on each other's happiness that it doesn't even matter if they ever fall in love they just fall on the floor and wake up at noon smiling.
Anyway...so I told this in not so many words to you, and then my Adam, and I also asked Jessica about it (who, by the way, is a freaking expert) and then I started going to a psychiatrist. Yeah. That happened. And I said I'm not happy in this city because I can't explore my gender identity, there's no way in hell they'll let me walk down the street as anything other than what my dick dictates (I have to be a boy), and so I need to get far AWAY from here. I told them that. Last night I went to the dean of students, in her apartment, and we sat on her couches and I told her...and the first thing she told me was, "That's fucking amazing." I have never in my life felt so fabulously vindicated. I don't know where I'm headed, but I know I'm not headed there alone...
You know that feeling when you aren't sure if something is true, and then you tell it to a few people, and then when they repeat it back to you it sounds realer and realer each time? I had this hunch...and I told you a little about this hunch, Molly. The hunch was that maybe, perhaps, I would be happier if I were a girl, and I hunched it because suddenly one day I felt utterly defeated, like the universe sat on me and farted. I wanted to wear high heels, damn it, and I wanted to brush my long hair and to have a skinny waist to dance with and for god's sake I wanted to have the kind of sex you don't see in movies, where two people are so drunk on each other's happiness that it doesn't even matter if they ever fall in love they just fall on the floor and wake up at noon smiling.
Anyway...so I told this in not so many words to you, and then my Adam, and I also asked Jessica about it (who, by the way, is a freaking expert) and then I started going to a psychiatrist. Yeah. That happened. And I said I'm not happy in this city because I can't explore my gender identity, there's no way in hell they'll let me walk down the street as anything other than what my dick dictates (I have to be a boy), and so I need to get far AWAY from here. I told them that. Last night I went to the dean of students, in her apartment, and we sat on her couches and I told her...and the first thing she told me was, "That's fucking amazing." I have never in my life felt so fabulously vindicated. I don't know where I'm headed, but I know I'm not headed there alone...
Forgive Me, Blog
I had almost forgotten about this blog, until Condor said he was making a new blog post. I thought to myself "HOLY BALLS. I haven't written anything since this summer!" ... maybe? I don't know.
Why does life keep changing? I don't think I have had one piece in my life that I have been able to say "that has stayed the exact same way since .. whenever" Life is hard. Life doesn't make exceptions. Life is a bitch.
What I actually want to talk about in this blog is my future outlook:
Living in a quaint home with a fabulous husband. One that is strong inside and out. Who can pick me up when I am down. One who will also help me with bills, not just the paying part, but the figuring out how to go about and pay them. One who will hang Christmas lights outside with me in the winter, or scare the living daylights out of preteen hooligans on Halloween. One that will bake with me in our underwear for fun, or lounge on the couch watching Adult Swim at two in the morning. One that when the lights go out and I scream bloody murder will grab my hand and tell me things will be fine - that he's here for me. One that will go in with me to buy a puppy. Someone I can grow old with and not care that my skin is sagging, or my hearing is going, or that I can no longer lift heavy things. My next door neighbors will be Connor and Loreena. Across the street from me will be Rosie, and behind Katarina, so we will share backyards. My sister will be somewhere in the neighborhood, but not right next to me, or we would get the police called on us for the crazy shenanigans we would be caught doing - either that or for screaming at each other through our windows. I will be an occupational therapist, helping people return to their every day lives. My husband and I will host nerf wars at our house. And when the time comes, and all my friends are married with kids (yes, even you Connor. you better have kids, because I'm not sure I want any, but if I do - you have to too) I will have my first kid as well, and he or she will play in the streets and all throughout the neighborhood with my best friend's children. I will be thin. I know for a fact I won't have the breasts that I want, but I know I will be thin, because that's what I want. And not the thin society tells me, but the thin where I feel comfortable in my own skin. I want this life. This is my future.
And my future is bright. I just need to find a way to complete all of this. But I know one thing for sure, Connor will always be by my side, every step of the way.
Why does life keep changing? I don't think I have had one piece in my life that I have been able to say "that has stayed the exact same way since .. whenever" Life is hard. Life doesn't make exceptions. Life is a bitch.
What I actually want to talk about in this blog is my future outlook:
Living in a quaint home with a fabulous husband. One that is strong inside and out. Who can pick me up when I am down. One who will also help me with bills, not just the paying part, but the figuring out how to go about and pay them. One who will hang Christmas lights outside with me in the winter, or scare the living daylights out of preteen hooligans on Halloween. One that will bake with me in our underwear for fun, or lounge on the couch watching Adult Swim at two in the morning. One that when the lights go out and I scream bloody murder will grab my hand and tell me things will be fine - that he's here for me. One that will go in with me to buy a puppy. Someone I can grow old with and not care that my skin is sagging, or my hearing is going, or that I can no longer lift heavy things. My next door neighbors will be Connor and Loreena. Across the street from me will be Rosie, and behind Katarina, so we will share backyards. My sister will be somewhere in the neighborhood, but not right next to me, or we would get the police called on us for the crazy shenanigans we would be caught doing - either that or for screaming at each other through our windows. I will be an occupational therapist, helping people return to their every day lives. My husband and I will host nerf wars at our house. And when the time comes, and all my friends are married with kids (yes, even you Connor. you better have kids, because I'm not sure I want any, but if I do - you have to too) I will have my first kid as well, and he or she will play in the streets and all throughout the neighborhood with my best friend's children. I will be thin. I know for a fact I won't have the breasts that I want, but I know I will be thin, because that's what I want. And not the thin society tells me, but the thin where I feel comfortable in my own skin. I want this life. This is my future.
And my future is bright. I just need to find a way to complete all of this. But I know one thing for sure, Connor will always be by my side, every step of the way.
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