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?
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?