a dire fawn

no cyborg of roboincubator born shall harm space macbeth

Jul 30
just-bleached hair forever imho

just-bleached hair forever imho


how do people even have long thick wavy hair without it becoming a gross-looking pile. i would have short hair if it didn’t show off my square-ass jawline. i need hair help. fuck


theory: ‘get fucked, faggot’ is the most severe possible response to transphobic harassment.

'get fucked' is like a million times funnier than 'fuck yourself' and the second part turns around the situation immediately and more directly than any other word

i mean, it’s complicated to weaponize slurs wielded at you for self-defense purposes and like, it’s probably not the safest thing to say in every situation. i said it to someone the other day and it was maybe the first time i’d ever thrown that word at someone and it felt kind of weird and i’m still experimenting with it i guess


note to self: stop looking up facial surgery procedures and start looking up ways to kill a man and get away with it


i’m not a femme because that word just means pretty stylish cis or maybe sort of genderqueer to me (obv not 100% of the time and i love lots of femmes, esp trans/poc/disabled femmes, but that’s what the term’s come to mean to me), and i’m not butch because, i mean, have you met me? i’ve talked about it before: lately the whole system feels totally irrelevant to me at best and sometimes like a way to make cis folks feel more interesting at worst (‘femme is a gender!’)

i just want to be extremely tall with enormous boots. make me a punk tumblr fanart of an anime character


every six months or so i’m like, i hate all my clothes, and i don’t know whether it’s because i’m living in a capitalist culture or because it’s a proxy for hating my body. probably both. i alternate between wanting to wear shit that actually shows the outline of my body and things that make me disappear, that are safe and nonthreatening. for years before i transitioned i wore jackets and shirts and ties like, all the time and maybe i want to try that again at least once in a while? fuck, i don’t know. 


Jul 29

when i used to talk about how i wished my tits were bigger my ex would sigh and get this sad look and just be like, well, i just worry that you’re buying into this equation of womanhood with breasts. and i can’t believe i ever even dignified that or stayed in that relationship beyond the point where it became obvious that they thought i was some kind of fucking dupe.

but fuck i still would like bigger tits? like, a lot? and it’s something i still feel some shame around but one of the biggest concerns i had when i started e years ago was that i’d just end up looking like a dude with tits and obv that was informed by a lot of internalized transmisogyny but it didn’t really happen, because i don’t really have a whole lot to speak of, even now. so getting to that point of saying: yes, i want obvious tits, i want cleavage, i want that shit, was like, kind of a minor victory for me? and idk if we acknowledge that kind of thing often enough.

and i guess bigger picture i’m tired of hovering around androgyny just because it feels safe (physically and emotionally). yeah i grew my hair out and yeah i wear skirts sometimes but i hate how scary the smallest step away from that — dark eye makeup, a dress, a bra that fits — still feels. i’m not ‘femme’ but i’m not ‘andro’ either. i just want to feel comfortable looking how i want to look, unapologetically rather than hiding under piles of clothes.


i want a dozen tattoos and bras and gross shitty hair except not shitty in the way it is now


WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME ABOUT THE TUBE EXTENDER MASCARA


Jul 28

this songza playlist is basically just the music i listened to back in high school from when bands of four boys with guitars still really spoke to me and i spent weekends listening to the fucking strokes and feeling sorry for myself and now i’m thinking about the girlfriend i was with for a month in senior year who i was too afraid to touch and only kissed once before she broke up with me, a trembling long-haired mess of a kid so shut off that i could only pretend to feel anything by proxy, through the kind of performed, self-conscious, grandiose shitty ‘romantic’ lyrics of white boy assholes from new york city.


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