Month: January 2018

vi. Hopelessly Boobless

When I first started this transgender acceptance of myself, I felt totally excited, like a kid. It’s something I haven’t felt in a really long time, but I’m glad it happened. During this time, I found myself enjoying the adventure I had ahead of me. I watched all sorts of videos and began making my plans into a new life, and I had planned all this solely based on my overwhelming emotions.

I think reality hit me when I realized I couldn’t really do the HRT and stuff since it kills your potency as a male. Then I thought I would just do the rest, but fate it seems has stopped me in my tracks. The whole real issue is the fact I can’t get rid of my beard. I did laser hair removal on my entire body and up to my neck, but my face never happened because this girl, Allison, stopped me. It was my first appointment and I was laughing internally about my beard and b-day party dream. I told myself, if that’s real then something would stop me from lasering the hair off my face, and she did.

It wasn’t just only a professional courtesy, but also something she felt strongly about. This girl DID NOT want to do it. She literally spent 5 minutes talking me out of it, and because it’s me we’re talking about here, she won quite easily. No contest. I give myself some credit because I actually listened to what she said, and because she’s a girl, I thought about Jas. It put me into a position I needed to be in, and I’m glad it happened. I think mainly she opened up to me about this because we’ve had some rather deep conversations and whatnot, but it was probably for the better.

I think all of this is enough for Jas to take in on its own. Being a transgender is one thing, but actually doing it is another. I know she’s a regular kinda girl and stuff, and she’s straight and likes men, so I accepted that somewhere along the way, and pretty much just left out that little detail to keep this blog fun and educational, but also entertaining. So I want you to know Jas, I’m not gonna be strutting all wide-hipped with the two girls bouncing when you decide to come into this picture.

I’m doing that because it’s HUGELY important, and I couldn’t ever just go ahead and put all of that on you without actually knowing how you feel about it. I’m not sure if any of that actually matters to you, but I know there’s a good chance that it does. I would really, really love to do it, but doing what’s needed to ensure proper care is taken of your needs in life is my FIRST and FOREMOST priority. I’m also fairly sure that you can handle me not having leg hair and stuff, but from what I’ve been told, the face is a big deal. It changes the way you look permanently. So I didn’t do it.

If however it does turn out that I’m some kind of loony toon, well then I guess I’ll go ahead and do it. What would it matter by then anyway? I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t, but either way I shouldn’t even really think about that kinda thing. Ya know, and if I did, I’m not sure how my family would handle it. I know it would hurt my dad the most. He has been going on about how I’m the last male in the family and I need to pass on the family name and be man and find a woman and blah blah blah and I’m always like, “sorry dad I’m worthless, dickless, etc”.

Anyway, I know this isn’t much, but I felt like I should at least say it. I’m not going to do anything crazy until after my 33rd birthday. If I turn 33 and I still feel this fucking way, then I guess I’ll just end my maleness. It’s better than offing myself at least. I hate to understand the reasons why a transgender person would actually feel like this, but I totally do and there’s nothing I can do about it. Every woman in my life has only amplified this feeling, and the long term use of drugs and alcohol left me completely empty on the inside. Let it go long enough, and it’ll just eat you away from the inside out, and ya know, I’ve worked way to hard to turn my life around and just give it all up, but when I get really down on myself, this is how I end up feeling.

vii. The Final Ride

August 8th, 2016 — Brian’s Journal, “Jasby and Truck Dream”

I will never forget the moment I lost all hope. It was after I knew I wouldn’t be seeing Jasmine anymore. I laid down on the couch to take a nap after some much needed crying, and before I hit REM, I went into paralysis and floated away into a dark forest with massively tall red oaks. I was flying over a twisting and turning road through the darkness, and then I slowed down as I saw headlights from an oncoming truck. Then the cameras zoomed in as it approached and I saw two passengers in a black truck. I saw a guy with a darker skin complexion driving, and I saw Jasmine in the passenger seat. It was pitch black dark and a sharp turn came about, and the camera spun around the truck and went through the woods.

I remember feeling ill like I wanted to vomit. I did not like this guy for some reason. I started shaking and trying to fight the dream to escape it, but it held me in. As I zipped through the forest, I approached the vehicle as it was coming around the bend for another glimpse. I could see the dawn setting and the light begin to rise on the horizon as I came back towards the truck. As the truck drew closer, I remember feeling like I was squinting to try and see really hard, and then as I floated through the vehicle, I saw myself driving the truck out of the woods with Jas in the passenger seat. Jasmine had this strange half-smile smirk on her face as she just stared off up into the sky, and as for me, well I barely recognized myself. I looked completely relieved, care-free and at ease.  It was by far the best dream I ever had. I will never forget the look on her face.

After I saw them drive off into a beautiful sunset, I began to wake, with my arms flopping and legs kicking and I came rolling off the couch hard. I looked up as I got up off the floor, and there was a cabin life magazine lying there. On the front cover, were the words, “Inspiration for the deep woods traveler”.

Two months later, I got chills all the way down my spine when I bought the truck of my dreams.


v. Breaking the Ice

My new shoes from DK are pretty fabulous. I’ve really been looking forward to dress up and have some fun, but life is pretty overwhelming at the moment. My work load for the next two weeks is pretty heavy, but I’m hoping after that I’ll be able to find some place special to express the things I’ve been needing to convey. All in due time, but for now I have some random things to throw down. I would consider this piece more like a cocktail. It’s got a mixer, a liquor and some fruit in it. Hopefully it all goes down easy.


I’ve been thinking about this topic a lot lately, so I decided to address it. I had a sleuth of visions in my bed this week and they really stand out above the rest. I saw a hand shake, a girl’s nose and lips, an open hand made of gold, and a girl’s hands folded like she was praying. I really felt touched by it, and after my last post, my short-term anxiety just up and vanished. It’s rather ironic that I use anxiety to make advances in spirituality, but honestly that’s how it works. The acronym of HOW is a great way to explain HOW relationships need to work in order to be successful in such endeavors.


If I’m picturing the things behind the scenes clearly and correctly, then I would only imagine that natural curiosity would arise. If you were suddenly convinced of a truth you’ve been battling with, then you would gradually begin to enter the stage of acceptance. With acceptance comes many things, but the most important thing to realize is that you’re not alone in this. Acceptance is always a two way street. It was exactly like this for me, but I had to figure it out on my own. It really becomes quite apparent when you find people that accept you for who you are, and not for who you pretend to be.

The first thing I did was wonder what it would be like and also what people would think. I struggled with the whole notion on epic proportions. Seriously, when I found myself walking into Joost vapor while Jas was surrounded by a bunch of kids, I felt absolutely sick to my stomach. My gut instinct’s reaction while contemplating the outcome was rejection followed by humiliation. She fulfilled the prophesy of my worried heart with ease. What can I say? She was right all along. She was way too young for me. Honestly, what the hell was I thinking?

When I ask myself, what’s that special number? What’s the youngest age you could probably go for? Well, I could probably get to know a girl that was at least 22. It would have to be pretty casual though, more like being really good friends. As far as commitment goes, well I know for a fact that I couldn’t get into anything really serious until she’s 23, but if she’s honest and open with me and still willing by the time she turns 24, well then, I would marry her in a heartbeat. At least from what I’ve gathered, that’s the plan here.

This girl probably worries about the future way too much. She probably feels a lot like I did and she probably went ahead and tried to take some shortcuts in life to try and blend in with the world, but she’s smart enough not to fall for that. Just as she told me how proud she was of me when I hit ten months of sobriety, I’ll tell her how proud I am of her for remaining strong during those following ten months she waited in anticipation for her plan’s in life to unfold.

I’m not a mathematician, but I saw “23m” while wondering how long it would be before I got to speak with the light of my life again, and I saw that. I knew 23 months would be a long time, but I kept my faith regardless. Sorry for being somewhat cryptic honey, but everything has its own perfect timing in life. Life’s plan is also full ironies, but we must do our best to accept them or else everything is just a simple meaningless coincidence, and I say fuck that. Besides, everything will look much more beautiful when the sparks fly and rockets are blasting into the night sky. It’s all perfect on the outside, but it’s vastly more important as to what’s changed on the inside.

This transformation and progress we yearn to develop is all meant to create safer waters for us to harbor in. Have you ever been told, “you are your own worst enemy?” If I were to go out and get smashed tomorrow and fall back into my own ways, it would compromise all the hard work I’ve done in life. If we ever thought to ourselves, “we’ll just skip the darkness and march into the brighter days ahead”, then we would probably make mistakes in lessons that we could’ve learned during the times where we should’ve been more patient. I don’t want to put a timeline on anything other than what’s at the forefront, and that’s the fact that you should do what your heart tells you, when you feel the time is right. If you can’t open yourself up to me face to face, then it is not the time. You’ll know it when it happens, trust me. It’ll be obvious.

What to Expect

Breaking the ice with me is going to be the easiest thing in the world to do. You get to undoubtedly spend the rest of your life making fun of me for wearing panties. You could go out of your way to be a feminine girly fairy creature and say things to me that would make any man become uncomfortable, and yet I will have no choice but to lie back and take it. It’ll be this way because I get turned on by it. Once a female discovers this ultimate vulnerability about me, she becomes empowered by it and realizes her ultimate power over me. This simple little exploit has caused me more grief than I care to remember, but it is the reason why the seasons keep changing in a world without your face in my life.

As for expectations in life, I will be totally honest with you about this. Don’t have any! When we build expectations in life and do not live up to them on our time, we create disappointment in our minds. You must do your best to accept the hand you’ve been given and take life’s hardships one day at a time. Every time I try and push myself too hard, I end up being counterproductive. I like to break down my long-term goals into little stepping stones and try to tackle the simpler things first. A “hello” or a “hand shake”, for example would be simple. You can’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders because we’re not strong enough to handle that, so the best thing to do is trust in the bigger picture and know that all things your heart desires will come to pass.

Gender Stuff

The coolest thing about me being a transgender person, is the fact that I’m actually more like a tomboy than an actual girly girl. I mean sure, I’m feminine, but I make up for that in the areas of having an analytical mind and an awesome tool collection. I took this gender role test and I was surprised at the results. I have all those qualities most women complain about men not having such as compassion, creativeness, and sensitivity. As for a male, I surprisingly have the things actually needed to be a man where it counts most in life, and that’s ambition and drive. Honestly, taking this silly little test made me feel really good about myself.

I have a lot of mixed emotions regarding the view of transgender people. I can’t stand to watch the drag queen shows on TV. I find those “women” to be kind of on the tacky side. And the ads I’ve been seeing for NY Queens or whatever, is downright obnoxious. I hate how media lets these people go out and flaunt fake plastic shit like this because that’s not how it is. I have a couple resources online I hang out in, and I can say these people have had terribly difficult lives. A lot of them are actually shy like me, and they’re really good people with big hearts. It just makes me sick to see this crap all over the TV. It doesn’t address any of the real issues. It focuses on controversial shit that makes us the laughing stock of the world and sells more commercials to the dumb-downed idiots known as Americans. It deeply insults me as a person knowing that 45% of people with transgender-related issues have admitted to attempting suicide. And what, watching a bunch of assholes glorify it on TV is supposed to make me feel better? It’s one huge cruel joke.


Okay, so I’ve had 3 girlfriends in my life, and yes that means I’ve only had sex with 3 women because I am not a skank and I’ve never ever been the sleeping around type, and I never will be!! I’ve actually turned a couple girls down that were ready to go simply because I’m an emotional person. If I am not in love, my pants do not come off. After they do come off however, the girl pretty much always knows that something is different about me than other men, and by that I mean I can’t really fuck her in the way she would normally expect. I’ve lived my entire life with this mentality that women are the ones in charge. So if you can understand what I’m saying here, there’s a lot more kissing involved than usual.

Then girls ask me if I’m gay and make fun of me and laugh and kiss me and stuff, and I totally like it. Of my three ex’s, one of them are not actually evil. It didn’t work out because she was too much of a lover and liked to cheat on me with other girls. I guess when she got drunk and tried to make out with my sister one night, well um, ya know I just couldn’t deal with that anymore, so I had to break up with her. Her name was Chelsea and she was really nice and good for me in a lot of ways, and other than trying to kiss my sister, I don’t have any complaints about her. And as far as my best friend, well I pretty much just sucked his dick a few times. Then one day he asked me if he could suck my dick, and I told him I had to go. For some reason it just seemed gay and didn’t interest me. Haven’t seen him since, but we still text each other sometimes. So ya that’s my damage, 3 girls and a guy that used to be straight until he met me so now he’s gay. Also, my best friend and my evil ex are also ex’s, so there’s also that little complication, but that’s not a story for tonight.

When it comes to sex, it’s totally not a complicated thing for me. I’m turned on by the same things as most men and women, except I tend to get a bit more elaborate in my ways because I have the sexuality of a man and woman combating each other day and night. It’s straight up exhausting to try and put a label on it. I feel that’s probably quite normal too since we all base our desires on our past experiences and innermost fantasies, but I’m a pretty regular person when it comes to that kind of thing. Though, I had a girl in the past bring up the possibility of a dildo and I went into thinking that could be fun using it on her, but to my surprise, she seemed to have been planning to use it on me. Girls are like God’s kinkiest of creations, and apparently I’m one of them. Luckily, I’ve been on the closeted side with my transgenderness, so honestly, that’s something that’s going to be a totally new experience for me and I can honestly be thankful for that because it’s something to look forward to.

Who, Who Who??

In closing, I would like to now state the obvious question at hand. Who is Jas? I’m honestly very curious. I know she’s a college girl and works for an electronic cigarette manufacturing company. I know she’s from Midland and is studying psychology, but all that stuff is just what’s on the surface. I have went above and beyond to share every little thing about myself. I’ve shared my secrets, my desires, my fears, my goals, my hopes and my dreams. I have finally let it all out today, and there’s nothing really left. There is no more Mystery of Brian Kennedy left on the table. The book is wide open and it’s time for me to get to know the one person that actually matters to me in life. I suppose that too is a Story for another day, but I look forward to it every single night before I fall asleep. It’s a feeling that never ever leaves my side. It’ll always be there until Mystery Girl decides she cannot bear it anymore and come into this thing with an open mind, a forgiving heart and honest intentions.

Well, I’m off to bed. Sweet dreams, good night and always remember to LOOK UP 🙂



iii. Red Cherries and Black Licorice

There’s a pretty good saying in life about the past and the future. I’ve heard it both in Alcoholics Anonymous and Buddhist philosophy. When you dwell in the past, you receive depression and when you worry about the future, you create anxiety. The idea here is to discover inner peace and live gracefully in the present moment. If only it were that easy, we would all be living blissfully. To overcome the past, you must reconcile with the parts tearing you up inside. The problem with the future is created when you’re unhappy with your past and stuck on making it all better.  This whole process of grief and healing brought me to a place where I would never want to return. I am much better off where I’m at right now than I will ever be; it’s a fact!

For me, the worst agonizing type of anxiety I have ever experienced takes place when I develop feelings of intimacy for the opposite sex. It wasn’t always like this for me, but after many tragic events broke me down into nothing, I eventually became so damaged inside that I couldn’t experience desire as it was naturally intended. I don’t wish to relive those feelings because they are downright dehumanizing, but I’ll never forget it. Some of the longest nights of my life were spent back in that place, and I used drugs and alcohol to chase them away, but when I sobered up, I got smarter about it.

I told myself I would wait until one year of sobriety before I would even consider the idea of falling for a female. I knew how absolutely fragile I was and the thought of possibly dying over it scared me. This is really a sad thing, but I cannot fall in love or even contemplate opening up emotionally without suffering absolute anguish and despair. Something that was intended to be pure and beautiful in life is simply a curse to me.

When I first took notice of this spiritual thing guiding me towards a potential love in my waking life, I grew very nervous. I remember the very first time I texted her on messenger while in class. The moment after it happened, the fear set in. I felt pressured to do so in some way so it evolved regardless of my own instincts. This is the part of the Story where I bring another from the past into the picture. Her name was Amanda and she was 9 years younger than me.


I met Amanda at a 2nd shift job I had. She was a Grand Valley girl and was the first female to try and awaken my intimate side after the tragedy with my ex. There’s not really much needed to tell the story I want to tell, but it led to where I needed to be. I can still recall all the sleepless nights. I remember the agony like a knife stabbing into my neck. I lost months of sleep and the anxiety pushed me too far. She was just too young and I really hesitated a lot with her. I tried telling her I was broken, but she was persistent. Then when I finally let my guard down and opened up, it was too late. The whole thing was full of mixed messages, games and secrets. I never got any good answers from any of it.

How can I say it without saying it? That feeling nearly killed me. I still remember waking up feeling all concussed when I realized what I had done. I drank a pint of whiskey, maybe a fifth and a 12 pack of beer, then I chugged a bottle of NyQuil and went for a drive. I had nowhere to be and I was fucked up to the point of no return, and I knew it, but I just didn’t care. I took the back roads and was driving at a suicidal speed. I knew what could happen, but I didn’t care. When I woke up and discovered there wasn’t a scratch on me and saw how mangled the car was, it was like a sign from God. I still remember the dream about running from the police. The way the light bent in the dark from the headlights of the cars. It felt like the dance of immortality. The power and the strength I had, was unbelievable. Then to experience those exact same feelings in the middle of the night with K9’s and patrol cars scouting the area, well it was alarming.

Here’s the irony in it all. Two weeks before I rolled my car, I was sitting at my desk during break time at work telling Amanda about this exact dream. She gave me a very serious look and she said, “I don’t care what anyone says about this kinda stuff, but that MEANS something. You need to figure it out because someone’s trying to tell you something.”  Then a few days after our conversation, I fell asleep one night and had a dream about Amanda. I was chasing her in circles around a black truck, and she was laughing and just playing with me. Then I fell down and got hurt. A week later, she put a huge hole in my heart and I fucking totaled my car over it because I was emotionally incapable of dealing with these feelings. It was a reckless date with fate.


After a short duration with the feelings I had for Jasmine, it was like reliving the hell all over again. This time though, I had no booze or pot. I was pushing towards a total relapse, but something kept me from doing that. This time was different. Jasmine straight up hated me and she told me. Other than being really nice and kinda flirty this one time, she really went out of her way to express how much she completely detested me as a person. The things she said downright fucking offended me as a person, and not to mention, she had like no hesitance in just freaking laying it on me. She didn’t even feel bad. She didn’t even really know me as a person well enough to develop the comfort to say such things in that fashion, but she did it anyway. I may have troubled myself brutally trying to figure it out, but one thing was crystal clear: she felt completely comfortable with shoving me right off a cliff. She was judge, jury and executioner. Never in my 32 years of existence have I ever received such words from a female unless her and I were already sleeping together. It fucking blew my mind.

Anyway, there is nothing in the world that could ever makeup for the entire year of sleep I lost over Jasmine Bechtel. She fucked with my head on a whole new level. I would convince myself that I loved her one day, then tell myself I hated her the next. They say that the devil is in the details of all of this. It was a pretty cunning idea to sabotage the one person that was solemnly keeping it all together for me. I was shattered into a million broken ass little pieces. After enough time with brutalizing anxiety and terrorizing episodes of manic depression, your mind just ends up breaking down. I was so fucked up on the inside, that I ended up losing my job over it. I got laid off because I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t perform a simple task without forgetting what I was doing. I had people asking me constantly, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Brian, are you okay? Do you need to go home?”


Whew. Okay, now I just took a deep breath and thanked God that I’m here in the present. I will never go into the full black details of this shit stain in the confines of time simply because it makes me want to die.

The depression and the anxiety come with the setbacks regarding YOUR PATH IN LIFE. The anxiety occurs during the parts where you’re not progressing spiritually as a person, so the past just keeps haunting you as a reminder to go forth. Sometimes it feels easier just to do your own thing and tell yourself that your happy alone, but isolation is never the answer. There’s a million things that lead you astray and the further you wander off, the worse the anxiety becomes. I know because I had the anxiety over “my Princess”, for a solid year straight. It became very intrusive and interrupting of my life, and my will to commit suicide was never stronger than during this time in my life. It was like the Great Wall of China blocking my path. I was trapped and had nowhere to go.

The cure I needed to move forward was locked inside of me. Once I discovered it, I took some time to figure things out. The anxiety was still there though. Then one night I had a dream about the Grand Valley clock and it said 6:45pm. The following day, I see Jasmine at Meijer. I spend my time trying to put the pieces together, then about four days later I was pulling in to GV to go to AA, and it was like 6:30pm. I parked where I would see that clock and I just sat there. I had this text on my phone I was gonna send her and then I remembered the random fucking photos I posted on my old blog that previous weekend. I pulled up my phone, modified it a bit and pasted in my text message into the blog post. Then I heard the bells chime and I looked up at the clock and it said 6:45, so I sent the text and never looked back. I was so scared of what she might do that I literally turned my phone off for two hours.

That was 9 months ago…. and I have to say that I am fucking thankful. The anxiety fucking left me. I got a better job, and I got a raise and I’ve been doing the best work I’ve ever done. I’ve been moving forward as a person and moving towards being at peace in the moment. This all happened because I did what the dreams instructed me to do. I know for a fact if I had to go through that pitch black hellish anxiety for any more given time than I had already done, I would have just simply put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

I’m fucking alive because of a spiritual intervention, dude… so if you ever feel that darkness just creep into your life when you’re down, just fucking know it’s there to challenge you. It’s there to stop you from being happy. It wants to keep you in that place you’ve been dying to escape from. And it’s pretty fucking cunning. It will do anything to try and blame the darkness on someone else other than yourself. That’s how it defeats women, but as for men, it makes us blame ourselves. Wouldn’t that have been tragic?

There’s a reaper standing in between us. It blocks our path in life. It wants us to fail. It wants us to give up and hate each other and push the blame elsewhere, but the truth is that we BOTH made mistakes. Our mistakes in life is what makes us human, and our forgiveness of our mistakes is what makes us divine. Embrace the pressure of this message because you’re gonna need it if you ever want to leap forward into the moment that’s been created solemnly for us. I won’t let anyone in the world get in between us. And if I have to pray every night and beg and plead, I will. I will do so because I keep my promises and I don’t surrender to anything but the light. I know black licorice tastes like shit but sometimes you gotta eat a shit sandwich so you know what shit tastes like, that way when you bite into a sweet little cherry, you’ll actually appreciate the blessings you’ve received in life. Then you’ll know the difference between death and life. I say this only because you rejected the one person that will unconditionally love you for the rest of your life, whether in sickness and despair, grief and sorrow, alive or dead.



It took me a long time to write this post because I don’t really how to put something like this into words. The scope of the spiritual implications in life is risky business. We live in a world where science and religion are combative with each other and they should be coinciding with one another. They go hand in hand. Psychology and spirituality could really be the same thing if you just read between the lines. The ancients used nature to depict character and foreshadow concepts of morality in a world that is constantly changing, but yet never evolving and that’s because nature itself always remains the same.

The book of Revelation delivers an entirely pure psychoanalysis to the reader, but the reader is not fully aware of this. The symbols and actions all depict a time of turmoil and a great conflict in the world around you. That is why I read the book of Revelation about 63 different times. My apocalypse has already happened inside of my mind. I learned the scope of my limitations. I accepted my poisons in life and I threw them away. It is “Good Fruit” that the Spirit is looking for. I saw these two cherries on a cherry tree and in front of them was a hand with scissors, preparing to cut them off. A pair of cherries like this must be ripening to become desirable enough to require delicacy before they are harvested. Just think about all the time and care that has gone into this, and how the moment when they are plucked will be done and over within the twinkle of an eye. Life is precious and life is short. Don’t take any of it for granted, Jasmine. Love is the only cure for life and you are my medicine.




ii. Gender Relapse

When I spell it out like that, it seems pretty bad. I had this strange dream thing awhile back when I saw myself looking girly and drinking a cocktail. I thought to myself, “there’s no way in fuck that’s gonna happen”. Little did I know, it was a metaphor about denying myself for who I am. A momentary denial of identity crisis. I suppose it’s a natural occurrence though, as I’ve read many gender confused people have had these episodes. I sure can relate to the whole going back and forth, but walking into Cabela’s with the intention to purchase a pair of a man’s man pants brought me down to a whole new level.

I was pissed off to begin with over the fact that my dad got me a Cabela’s gift card. How charade is that? It was a downright embarrassing experience for me. While walking around the store, I felt a staggering glare of red neck eyes gouging me out. “What is this fem little bitch doing here”, they thought among themselves. I felt pretty weird shopping there, like I was almost unwelcome. It was even more unsettling to actually get in line at the fitting room, which was right between the women’s and men’s clothing.

Once I got into the fitting room and actually slithered my way into the God-awful coarse and grainy textured atrocity known as men’s pants, it became quite apparent that this was a lost cause. I tore them off my legs like they were made out of molten lava and chucked them brutally into the huge pile of shit lying on the floor, then I walked my ass out of there and simply said, “fuck this shit, I’m going home”. The pants were so uncomfortable and they looked horrible on me. They felt so baggy and disgusting, I contemplated bringing them over to the camping section and soaking them with lighter fluid so I could burn them in the store.

This moment has honestly been building. I’ve become aware of the people around me, and I’ve also heard of what some people say behind my back. Fairy seems to be the most popular choice of words with people these days. I know a few people that call me that now. The first time my dad said it, I laughed it off and said “Awww thanks dad, fairies are sooo magical.” It’s just a bit upsetting when other people you’ve previously thought were cool with you, also use it. Either way, I’ve convinced myself as a man myself that that’s just what men do. They talk about women crudely as well, and I’ve listened to it all my life. Guys call people names because they’re guys, whatever. They are always being demeaning because it makes them feel more manly inside as they lack true security in their own nature.

Guy at work: “Oh hey Brian, are you gonna go to Forever 21 this weekend and shop for girl’s jeans”?

Me: “No, I don’t really care for the jeans there.

I always act as if it’s a normal conversation for me, and I’ve started to notice that the strategy works. They say shit like this because they want me to get emotional about it and overreact, so I’ve become a thief of thunder.

Boss at work: “Don’t only women typically get their nose pierced, Brian?”

Me: “Tupac Shakur…. Lenny Kravitz”

Boss: “Say no more.”

Oh and my favorite is when I walked into the break room after lunch, and some fat douche bag mumbles out, “Here she comes!”

That pissed me off enough to pretty much delete my facebook account entirely. I know fucking people look each other up on that shit, so I’m done with it now.

What’s not cool is when someone you don’t even know starts shit. It was my like my 2nd day of class for Electrical 05, and this guy and his buddy kept using the word “faggot”. They kept talking about this faggot like non-stop and it was pretty obvious, childish and super annoying as well. Every goddamn time they talked about something, they would use the word faggot. I turned right around after awhile and just stared at him hard and cold for like a solid minute. After that, he stopped using the word faggot.

So um ya, I had this dream last night about a Goose taking shelter in its tent, then someone came in and hit it in the neck with a golf club. I felt this huge wave of emotion over it, and I started crying. I went out into the woods looking for it, and after some searching, I was relieved to find it. It was hurt, but it didn’t die. It got away with a wound. Honestly, that about sums it for me too. This shit fucking hurts. I’m not sure whether I’m just gonna run and hide or come back in full force and become the Greatest Magical Fairy to fly high over these black shit-headed clouds that seem to be all over the fucking place.

I guess I am just a fucking gay goose with a broken neck cuz I wear chic jeans and don’t fuck girls because they hate me. Goddamit, that sounds a like a horrible life. Fuck, I wouldn’t wish it upon my own worst enemy. I already suffer 24/7, so why do people gotta re-stab open my old wounds over and over again??????

iii. Enter the Midnight Queen

The clock struck quarter to, and the bells chimed. A nerve struck my heart and I knew the Time was near. We can’t be late and we cannot fuck this up. Every single last piece needs to come together so the puzzle may be complete. There are things that need to be addressed and mysteries that need solving. There are questions that need answers and doors that need opened. Will you find the right key to open it, or get lost in the fuzzy haze of pumpkin patches along the way?

Velvet Crushin’ Duster Coat
Stars In Your Eyes Body-Stocking
Midnight Queen Pin-Studded Heels

Remember Cinderella’s hot ass slippers? She’ll be wearing them at midnight with stars around her body and her toes pressing the metal. There is no way in hell I’m going to be a fag anymore, and Sleeping Beauty knows just how to solve Cinderella’s little problem. It’ll be the sweetest party of them all, but first thing’s first. She needs to wake the fuck up, and I have the perfect solution for that. It’s a little something called a Spiritual Awakening. Something like this seems pretty epic, so I changed my mind about the shoes at the last minute. I’m going to put on a dress, tights and heels, then take some hot ass photos. After all, this is pretty goddamn important being that it’s the first photo shoot of the same year that a Princess enters her passage into becoming a Queen.

2018 <– LOOK UP, doll face 🙂Unless of course, you just don’t have the balls.
^^This chic’s got balls. What’s your excuse, honey?