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#moth monologue

I started writing a slow burn fanfic purely just for fun.

Tbh it’s hard to write about romantic tension when you’re really not that romantic and you’re not even sure how love feels like even though you’ve probably been in love before, you just (1) got shocked from all the feelings and (2) invalidated your own feelings until you totally forgot about them and her.

Now that I think about it, I am good at writing slow burn but it never gets romantic, unless someone gets their head out of their asses. Which is a process and is hardly ever romantic.

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My dad just revealed to me that we have one of those papers you can print something on and you can iron it on a shirt and you get a graphic tee basically.

SO now I’m in a dilemma about what to print. The topics are:

- snarky statements

- bands

- dad jokes

- gay statements (i live in a homophobic country so i have to be careful about this one)

- vintage

- cryptids

- just a cool design ig idk

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Personal reasons to get better:

  • I’ll have the courage to talk to those in need without the fear of ending up hurting them
  • I’ll know what I have to do, and I will act
  • I’ll get the education if I have the motivation
  • I’ll have something to give!!! I will pour from that damn cup!!!
  • I’ll be in an accepting, open mindset (nobody wants a Squidward-type therapist after all)
  • I’ll trust myself and what I do
  • I will live
  • Not just survive
  • Live
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Quick check-in bc why tf not

Currently Hungary is slowly introducing quarantine again. There’s already a curfew between 8pm and 5am and high schools and universities have switched to online teaching. So I moved back home because there’s really no point in renting an apartment just to listen to lectures from there lol

I finally got to dust off my bike! It’s november! And it’s cold as fuck here but I said yolo and rode down the hill as fast as I physically can and I didn’t break any bone in my body but my throat does hurt a bit now. Not from covid, but from the wind.

I had my first appointment with a psychiatrist regarding my anxiety. It was nice. I guess.

And maybe I really am a dumbass but it just occurred to me that I never really felt like a girl. Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to play with the boys, I wanted to take my shirt off when I get too hot (and I did, when I didn’t have tits yet), I wanted short hair. And when I got older, somehow it just felt… wrong. I felt wrong.

Then some shit happened that I’m not really keen on talking about but it completely took my mind off things like my body going through changes. I kind of just accepted that this is me now and I can’t change it, and I better adapt. But I always HATED it. I just didn’t care, I didn’t have room for this feeling too.

And now, after trying to be even more feminine, wearing a skirt, trying with makeup and shit, it still feels wrong. I feel like I’m forcing something that will never ever work, and even though I like how pretty makeup looks, I know it won’t ever look right on me. It will be unnatural.

And don’t get me started on those two bumps on my chest WHY are they there??

But maybe it’s just me being a butch lesbian. A boyish girl. Idfk. I’ve never been more confused in my life - figuring out I like girls was a “duh” moment compared to this shit.

I’m confused and it’s scary. I don’t need this. But it’s here. On my chest.

And it will always be here.

But at least I figured out the topic for my essay so I got that going for me. Wooo.

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Dyscalculia can really fuck up my perception of time. Like when someone says ‘we have to be there at 7’ and I’m pretty much all prepared by 4 and they’re like 'uhhhh we still have like 3 hours’. Oh is that so why didn’t anyone tell me 3 hours aren’t equal to 3 minutes smh

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I will go out to the garden and study for my anatomy exam, seeing the trees as the lungs, seeing the layers of the dirt as layers of the skin; watching plants grow from seeds and think about how a human comes into being; watching a spiderweb, how a single movement can rattle even the thinnest string and seeing neurons, unconsciously shaking our mind and body around; hearing the unstoppable rythm of time, seconds passing like birds in the sky and hearing the rhytm of my heart, stoppable, easy to manipulate, fragile - but ancient.

I will go out to the garden and step into myself. I will learn my body. It’s faults, it’s wonders, I will watch the clouds and watch the weather change and understand how many ways a mind can kill, but also how many pictures it can create.

I will learn how to help. I will learn how to be okay. We will all learn.

All in that little garden of ours.

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That weird feeling when you just finished crying; when you’re so emotionally drained that you can’t really see what you’re looking at and the world feels unreal and you feel out of place; and you want to do everything but your mouth feels dry and you realize you have no idea what that everything is; all you know is that you need it. Right now.

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