be.
03-08-2005, 07:30 AM
Yeah, that's me. Transsomethingoranother. I've been living it for three years this month, with no kinda help from the medical industrial complex yet, though I'm starting to think about it. Naked, I'm a boy -a skinny, slight boy, but a boy nonetheless -you can see it most between the legs, that boyness that I like better on boys than on me. My face is funny though, because depending on my expression and the comportment of my body it changes up a lot. When I'm just slobbin' around, running to the store and I haven't even had a shave, gentlemen will let tell the clerk they should help "her" first. It's funny. I laugh.
I'm twenty five and I have lots of friends. I live in the best neighborhood in Buffalo, y'know, with all the artsy-musicky types, who are most of my friends, as I am both artsy and musicky. Luckily no one ostracized me or anything when I started displaying much better taste in clothing and getting visibly annoyed with anyone who'd dare call me my old boy's name. I always moved a bit more gracefully and sensuous than a boy. Some people got weird sometimes, but fuck 'em because I have more power now. I have the power that comes from being a completely honest person. I am ascending to divinity.
Also, I'm killa. Killa like black ops, killa like sharp things. I can roundhouse kick a six foot head in four inch heels. Not that I'm militant or anything. Just saying, a lady's gotta know how to protect herself when she's got the balls to be a lady when she's got balls for real. Most of the time though the boys just wanna holla at me. I can't let them get too close though. Something's always giving me away. That's why I think about three simple things that'll make my life easier. I think it's just money that's in my way right now.
I'm going to school for textiles -costume design. I think my careers gonna be easier when I'm just accepted for who I want to be. I've done my time being accepted for who I am. It's been three years I've been making people look at me as a person instead of an oddity, three years being strong and working a high profile customer service job and dealing with the general public from the suburbs and the truck drivers from Maine (nothing against Maine, of course). Here I am now, sick of ruining my complexion shaving my face, and wanting to outgrow my 32A. Today was a "boy day". I have them every once in awhile. I give my face a break from the razor and just put on some damn pants and a shirt -voici, un garçon! I feel so much more though.
That's some of my story. Thanks for reading. Feel free to share.
I'm twenty five and I have lots of friends. I live in the best neighborhood in Buffalo, y'know, with all the artsy-musicky types, who are most of my friends, as I am both artsy and musicky. Luckily no one ostracized me or anything when I started displaying much better taste in clothing and getting visibly annoyed with anyone who'd dare call me my old boy's name. I always moved a bit more gracefully and sensuous than a boy. Some people got weird sometimes, but fuck 'em because I have more power now. I have the power that comes from being a completely honest person. I am ascending to divinity.
Also, I'm killa. Killa like black ops, killa like sharp things. I can roundhouse kick a six foot head in four inch heels. Not that I'm militant or anything. Just saying, a lady's gotta know how to protect herself when she's got the balls to be a lady when she's got balls for real. Most of the time though the boys just wanna holla at me. I can't let them get too close though. Something's always giving me away. That's why I think about three simple things that'll make my life easier. I think it's just money that's in my way right now.
I'm going to school for textiles -costume design. I think my careers gonna be easier when I'm just accepted for who I want to be. I've done my time being accepted for who I am. It's been three years I've been making people look at me as a person instead of an oddity, three years being strong and working a high profile customer service job and dealing with the general public from the suburbs and the truck drivers from Maine (nothing against Maine, of course). Here I am now, sick of ruining my complexion shaving my face, and wanting to outgrow my 32A. Today was a "boy day". I have them every once in awhile. I give my face a break from the razor and just put on some damn pants and a shirt -voici, un garçon! I feel so much more though.
That's some of my story. Thanks for reading. Feel free to share.