thinkreadwrite

[thinkreadwrite]

my heart is bursting out of love.

love for the love i see in others

love for the love they happen to find

love for such a love to exist

one day this tender heart of mine will burst for me

it will swell over with joy of finding some comfort in another human,

any comfort.

have patience, angel boy

life can surprise you.

and it's days like this when i believe in the little surprises of life

the turns and twists one never expects until the car entirely swerves in an unknown direction.

why grieve in your minuscule shell of perpetual existential crisis,

fears and inhibitions,

when there's lifetimes of peculiar creatures that humans are, to unfold.

it can be beautiful, surprisingly beautiful.

have patience, angel boy

and i do.

i am patient and i can wait

for all those surprises to reveal themselves.

and meanwhile, my heart is open

for anyone who needs its safety and warmth

for anyone who wants to be listened to

for anyone.

because for all it's worth,

we're all just peculiar creatures called humans co-existing in a perpetual state of existential crisis

so why close yourself off in your grief when you can have a laugh about it with another over a drink?

probably cry, probably vent

because for all it's worth,

we're all just humans designed for flaws and capable of having every emotion.

so have patience, angel boy

maybe this little life is capable of pleasant possibilities.

[thinkreadwrite]

i lower my eyes unable to face,

trembling

as they prowl around and approach,

baring their teeth and grinning,

their evil eyes

easily concealing beneath them a side that only i have seen.

not willingly.

never did i ever want that willingly,

forever asking myself why i had to be subjected to that.

a shiver runs down my spine,

shaking me up and awake

throughout my million attempts at sleep

because they don't leave me in my dreams too.

the monsters.

they show up everywhere, all the time.

blood runs cold and air thins out as i freeze up

in just the same way.

again.

and again.

and again.

a reminder, a constant pain, a relentless wish to escape their menacing grip

in vain.

the monsters continue to prowl around,

then and now.

[thinkreadwrite]

i'm just flesh and bones and a bunch of bad memories in place of a brain bundled up together to call a person.

am i really a human

if i feel hollowed out from inside after people have scooped out every last shred of my self worth?

if the most my brain functions is to recall everything that i don't want to see again?

if i need to put things into my system to get it to do basic things like sleep?

if the only dreams i get is where i find myself pathetically begging mercy from -

enough. shut it. go back inside.

am i really a human if i can't allow myself thoughts

because thoughts involve extracting memories and memories

no.

you shouldn't talk about it.

am i not really just flesh and bones bundled up together

lurking around this earth to find some shred of humanness, of self worth, of dignity

back?

[thinkreadwrite]

familiarity sometimes takes priority over safety, security and comfort. atleast in your head. even if an environment has caused you too much hurt, you still yearn to go back to it in vulnerable moments merely because it has been the most familiar to you. it's just easier. there is a false comfort that the familiarity of it provides.

and sometimes, you see the things for which you feel the need to return to the familiar environment, being replicated by new people, new environments and there's a bittersweet, indescribable, crushing emotion that the little child in your heart feels : a mix of extreme joy for finding such comfort in a warmer environment and of immense pain for the part of you that constantly feels obligated to go back to uncomfortable, stressful and unsafe environments for the things that you could experience otherwise.

or sometimes, it's just forgiveness. the willingness to give more time, more chances, more space for people to get better. and finding better environments just gives you the hope that maybe the one you know could be better too. but most of the times, it's blind hope. it's desperation. it's trying in vain. and the most painful part is, you know that. but you still continue to be forgiving and hold on.

you hold on to familiarity.

and it keeps eating you away from inside because you're also aware of why you need to let go.

but you hold on.

[thinkreadwrite]

a trans man living in the "women's" residence

i live two lives,

or is it three? four? i have lost track,

depends on the person interacting with me.

i respond to three different names, two pronouns

too scared, too tired to correct the ones that's not me

but who's me?

it's always been more than one life that I have lived inside my head

one for others' idea of how i should be

one concealed within, the way i want to see me.

but is the idea of 'me' even clear to myself?

i live in the 'women's residence'

having to step out of my room everyday feeling i don't belong here

i keep my head down as i walk across the corridors to save myself from being perceived.

out of place, constantly.

but the eyes follow me everywhere, heads turn and i wish beyond anything to know what's going on behind those eyes

but then again, do i want to know?

i decided to walk out of the shower in boxers and a tank top today, get dressed in my room.

telling myself : it's okay.

but in the same corridor as mine I passed by multiple floor mates and a cis man.

don't know which one made me feel more dysphoric, but i kept my head down and walked past multiple pairs of eyes following me,

as always.

i don't feel like I belong here, no

but then when the warden stops me in the lobby, and asks me to show my ID (I passed too hard apparently)

I show.

Yes, I'm <insert deadname> actually.

Yes, I live here.

Yes, I'm who you think I am. Sorry I don't look like most others who live here. Sorry I don't look like the idea of you.

Ha

Why, do I turn around and respond to "ma'am"

And then why, when someone asks me my name

I have to think for two seconds before deciding

"Hi, I'm <insert chosen name>"

who am i really?

a trans man who wants to pass as a cis man

a trans man too tired to make the effort to pass as a cis man

a trans man too afraid, too tired to go around telling people he's trans when he doesn't dress to pass as a cis man

a trans man who's just too tired. too scared.

so he gives in.

he goes through the women's line in the metro security check

the women's washroom

the women's residence

the women's coach

it's just easier than the crumbling anxiety of being 'clocked'.

it's just easier and he's too tired

and so after everything,

he's still living multiple lives.

because the boy inside still feels out of place. constantly.

what is 'me' even

if the idea of me is always defined, influenced, constructed by the social?

no idea. too tired to think about that, can i just have my coffee please and thank you.

at the end of the day,

he just continues living multiple lives.

he

him

she

her

ma'am?

i don't care, whatever the fuck you want bro, i need to sleep.

[thinkreadwrite]

poetry. it scares me. because if i start writing, i won't be able to stop them from pouring out : the words.

the words i would never dare speak, i'm not strong enough, but they are there, always. accumulating for years and years, waiting as if on cue. the moment i pick up my phone, my thumbs move across the keyboard swiftly, involuntarily, on their own. the moment i let myself write, i won't have to think about it, because the words are piled up, pressing against the walls of my head (that are now growing weaker every passing day as the weight doesn't seem to lessen) threatening to burst out.

the effort : is to keep them inside. safe, stay there don't come out. shush, they shouldn't hear you, don't make a sound.

pain, terrible pain, i can never not notice it. don't scream out, it's okay. is it? is it- yes, it is. now, quiet. enough words. go back inside.

and I shut the door and bolt it.

[thinkreadwrite]

a walk around the dark field with fitting music in my newly discovered headphones, an unexpected deep conversation with a stranger and voicing out conflicts in my head, erupting laughter as an anecdote is brought up, something that was once serious but now it's just silly and suddenly, suddenly a state of blissful drunkenness consumes my raging anxiety. Crushes it into a little ball and puts it away in one corner, just for tonight. Suddenly, I crave warmth and affection. I let people crush me into hugs and hold on longer. Tonight, I allow myself to be clingy and aggressively affectionate. I allow myself to crave physical comfort without instinctively flinching away or crumbling down with anxiety and extreme vigilance. I'll let my guard down, muscles relax and shoulders sink. Just for tonight.

[thinkreadwrite]

crowded metro coaches, head leaning against the glass as the city flashes past, I keep thinking how the concept of a home is unknown to me, a broken distorted stained concept. Has always been. But in this moment of being surrounded by the din of public transport, an overwhelming number of commuting strangers, each probably heading to some fragile concept of a home or a mysterious place withholding some obligation. In this singular moment of transit, in this state of hovering between places of responsibility, I find solace.

[thinkreadwrite]

All he needs is to be convinced once.

[thinkreadwrite]

the hyenas.

#a little life #hanya yanagihara

[thinkreadwrite]

2 moods:

I CANNOT BE KNOWN!!!! 🤪😈🤪

i cannot be known… :(

[thinkreadwrite]

you have a wound that will never heal? me too! actually it's gradually widening and expanding, consuming more of me with each passing day [props my chin in my hands and smiles at you] at what point do you think i'll become the wound itself and not simply the bearer?

[thinkreadwrite]

never beating the nervous prey animal allegations

[thinkreadwrite]

[thinkreadwrite]

why would I need enemies when I already have my brain doing a great job at that

[thinkreadwrite]

good morning i hope everyone has their favorite drink today and I hope that it tastes exceptionally delicious and comforting

[thinkreadwrite]