When I Was A Boy-child I Had A Friend Who Was A Tomboy And I Remember Wondering (jealously) Why There

(not my image, i don’t remember where i got it from but it felt appropriate here)

starting a collection #blackmold

a meeting of creatures…

Corporate World.

half of nothing is too much

up late thinking about my babadook costume i made in 2022

i still wear it every halloween while making gradual improvements and adjustments, this is the same costume halloween night 2024, with improved fingers and a repainted mask :-D

Hate trans male stereotypes with all my heart, but very much love the distinct subset of us who are big into Fight Club. Because hell yeah. The Narrator is Literally Me Bro. In my head Fight Club is a story about dysphoria, the repressed masculinity and anger that comes with it, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. It's accidental trans cinema. Also I like men.

i have neither a good imagination nor aphantasia, but a secret third thing

What would you do

What would you do if you showed up for a date with me, and instead of a guy like I said in my dating profile, I was a small injured deer?

And you asked me why I didn't say I was a small injured deer in my profile, and I said I was worried you would hate me for being so small and injured?

And then I got a salad and slowly nibbled on it, flapping my ears while you told me about warhammer 40 thousand. And then when it came time to split the bill, I told you I had no money because I'm a creature of a forest, but that I would pay you for my portion in song?

And so I sat up on my hind legs, and sang the most beautiful sonata you've ever heard in your life. I sang of the valleys and the rivers. In the first part of the song, you could hear my voice waver from the pain of my injury. But then it crescendoed with fire and determination, as if in the middle of that very song I decided that I must keep living no matter what happens, and that you must keep living too?

Then, when you came back to your senses from being entranced by the beauty of the song, there were tears streaming down your face? I was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind only a single autumn leaf on the table? You looked down at your hands, and in your hands was a small note with your childhood dream you had long forgotten on it, written by your own hand?

What would you do?

Would you be mad?