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About Me....

um... who me? uh i guess i'm the lounge's resident tranny. old school bustie formerly known as butta.

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entry Sep 30 2010, 12:12 AM
that's what it says on my key chain. if you don't know, it's the slogan from the 70's for an old brand of cigarettes called virginal slims, marketed to women. every once in a while, i look down at it and smile. i've come a hell of a long way, even in the last year.

in the last year or two, i was depressed, suicidal, having panic attacks, bouts of agoraphobia, working as a welder, unemployed, gotten audited by unemployment--- twice. once for 6 months of records---in a relationship with mr. t, out of a relationship with mr. t.; friends with crush girl, who was-- and i don't use these words lightly-- an emotionally stadistic/manipulative cocktease, back in touch with with an old friend who helped me transition, hoping that old friend who was opening a bar would let me dj and train me to be a bartender. working my ass off for said friend for no money, since then i've jettisoned that friendship entirely(good riddance) , gotten jettisoned by crush girl ( again, good riddance), and am barely talking to mr. t. having a bad case of painter's block, painting, showing and selling my paintings, missing reviewing films, uninterested in watching movies, obsessed with movies and getting free movie passes, working for this city's huge film festival, thinking about film festival theater managing as a career... and who knows what all.

but now? i feel like the world is my oyster. not depressed, still unemployed, technically, but since june working 5 days out of 7 being a shop assistant at a tattoo shop, and in january i start my apprenticeship. being a tattoo artist has been a dream job for me for about roughly 15 years. one that i never thought would happen. yet here i am, pretty much over the agoraphobia (knocking on wood furiously), and i'm feeling better about who and what i am, more comfortable in my skin, and slowly...ever so slowly feeling not only as good as i did 4 or 5 years ago before i shattered my wrist. i feel like i'm finally back on track. i work with two women in a small shop that does amazing work, and i'm tremendously proud of. and today? today was a beautiful day of complements: the woman who does cosmetic tattoos said, "good morning, gt! you look beautiful... as always..." and another woman, told me repeatedly after i talked obliquely about having been a boy, told me i was so beautiful, and she had no idea i had been a boy. this is from a woman who grew up in hawaii and was familiar with mahu-- essentially hawaiian transexuals, who are often on female hormones before puberty. the mahu are for the most part, gorgeous in that hourglassed figured, exotic hawaiian mold. she said that the thing that usually gives mahu away is that they see like they are 'trying too hard' to be woman, they're too flamboyant, while genetic women, just are women. and that is the vibe she got me, my femininity was not a question, i just was.

you've come a looooooooooooooong way, baby.
a very long way, and you ought to be proud of yourself.

entry Dec 20 2009, 10:10 PM
ugh.

i hate that i am so held hostage by my insecurities. they say that transitioning is like a second adolescence, and it's true. add my issues with abandonment, and well, all i am is weak.

it's a funny thing, i've transitioned to the point that i pass really well, even with my 6'1" frame. i've been ignoring it for some time, but guys are constantly rubbernecking to look at me. when crush girl and i were hanging out, she was constantly pointing it out. but she's not alone, anytime i meet a girl and we start hanging out, she points it out. "did you see that guy checking you out?" nope. really, i had no idea. the first couple of weeks she was incredulous. how can you not notice?!

i can't, don't notice, because i'm more interested in women, firstly, second because for me, the first few years of transitioning are so terribly awkward. you have to get over what has been your greatest fear for most of your life: going out 'in girl mode.' and it's terrifying. especially if you don't have a car. getting on a bus is still a dodgy proposition for me because of the grief some highschool kids gave me early on. white kids just look and whisper. black kids? they call you out. loudly. they want you to hear them talking shit about you. it's worse if you're black too. they take your transitioning personally, as if it reflected badly on them. i used to think it was just the boys, too. but there is a flip that takes place. once you get a bit better at it, the guys quiet down, and the girls call you out. the funniest thing is they all say the same thing too, as if their union prohibited them from ad libing. "that's a man!" every time. if they are really bugged by you, they repeat it, making sure everyone hears.

but they are only the loudest. having to look at people's faces when you come into view can be extremely painful. how can you forget the looks of revulsion? to see people wince, try not to stare, or to look away... it's the same thing they do to the disfigured or handicapped. in a sense, transitioning is a form of social disfigurement or handicap. last year one of my oldest friends fell off the roof of his apartment, and is a quadriplegic. before the accident, we would talk maybe once a year, now, we talk weekly or every other week. it's the freak club.

i was walking crushgirl to her bus stop after a movie, last week, and a guy started hitting on me. she laughed, "you ought to just tell him you've got a dick." "sure, if i want to get beat up." she explained that she was joking, but she's made that joke before, and it's never funny. it's painful. honestly, the thing i hate most about that comment is that it reminds me of something else you try not to look at directly when you are a transexual: the brutal truth. if people know you are transexual, for 90% of the people you know, you are a freak. you are not a woman, you are not a man, you're other. no matter how much you might think otherwise. is it any wonder the thing most trans people want most is to pass? out of one closet, and we'd just die to go back into another.

can you guess what comes in a close second? love. in this fucking lonely life we just want someone to understand, and love us... [le sigh] and it's made all the worse because of family and friends abandonment along the way. my life has been a revolving door, and i can't help but being clingy and insecure....

entry Nov 1 2009, 04:46 AM
i was thinking at work, hiding in the store room to keep my coworkers from hearing me sobbing, that all this time i thought my bones ached when i got in this state, because i was in pain, but i realize now, it was nothing of the sort. it was like a little beacon, guiding me to my end. it was this thing telling me i was getting closer, that my road was at an end, i was just reading it wrong.

i've decided that i'm going to take care of business. i've been putting off getting the tank for months because things seem to look better in the morning, but i get it now. they only seem better, it's an illusion. things don't actually get better, i'm just more willing to be distracted out of desperation. but i don't need that anymore. it's time to let go of what little is left. it is time to be free. i never should have been here. i never should have lived so long, i wasn't meant to survive, i'm not that strong. i can't take that much hurt, and there is so much fucking hurt. oh god all the hurt. it's almost unending, and its a constant like breathing, aand i want--- i need to stop. i need to put this hurt to an end, it's everywhere. it's in everything, i don't know how i lasted so long with all this pain. i don't. no one should have to live with their heart aching this much for so long. and for the life of me, i don't see why i do. i shouldn't have to keep crying myself to sleep. i shouldn't.

entry Nov 1 2009, 04:29 AM
am i really that awful? am i really so hideous a creature that no one wants me for a friend? that no one can see my value? i didn't used to think so but i am starting to think otherwise. i ask so little, i try not to inconvenience anyone, but it seems i as for entirely too much, and me taking even the tiniest amount of time is an imposition. is it no wonder i don't care for me?

entry Oct 18 2009, 03:39 AM
and she coos:

Little lamb, smile!

When I am through with you
There won't be anything left

Oh come back now where did you go?
no need to cower don't know
if i can even turn your light on
hello daisy, is that you hiding in the grass?
I've come to pluck you, To pluck you right in half.

When I am through with you
There won't be anything left

I come to the city alone i packed up my life and my
home
'cause i feel like a body at rest is a life in hell
so unpack my bags unpack my bags
kiss her on the mouth and she says
"smile little lamb"

When I am through with you
There won't be anything left...

"when i am through with you" by vla

i close my eyes, and smile...
at least she's clear about her intentions.


the last 2 months have felt like a death of 1000 cuts. oh, you feel good about yourself in that part of your life? well, we'll just see about that... i feel like i'm being slowly picked apart. the funny thing is i care less and less.... about pretty much anything. just like before i transitioned, i've figured out how to construct that facade. but at home, inside my head, it's a mess. i've been eating less and less, lost weight, and what little i do eat is out of duress. i'm used to ignoring hunger pains, but the migraines demand some sort of attention. i eat just enough to appease my body, but little more. i've almost stopped taking care of my apartment. not intentionally. don't get me wrong, it's not like i'm planning this, it's much more a passive thing. i just don't care anymore. i've stopped making an effort, because i really can't see things getting much better for any length of time. i've been dragging myself thru every day, not out of any sort of will to survive, i think that's been all but evicted from these premises. no, it's more out of habit. i think at the start of summer i had some sort of optimism, some sort of want to see if i could do something, to try, and slowly, methodically, i've had one leg after another kicked out from under me... any hope in my projects, any ideas get suffocated...

smile little lamb.

if there was a personal, emotional hell, this would be mine. in all honesty, i could not have designed it better. it's like a roller coaster, i get just enough height and speed to send me to that next drop. i ask you, if you were on this ride, one that hit upon everyone of your weaknesses, shredded every one of your hopes one by one, sadistically chewing you up, as if to make you squirm, would you not want out? would you not want off of that ride? would you not want it to end? so why would another path be desirable? why would i get on medication? so i won't struggle as much in my pain? so i won't care as much about the pain? the underlying problem isn't my depression, but rather my life. it will take a helluva lot more than a pill to fix it. you may worry about me, but trust me, wanting me on this planet is like wanting me in pain. i write these posts, again, not as some "cry for help," but for personal clarity, and for understanding when i'm gone. i've made my peace with the idea of killing myself, the question is, when. i don't have a date, as i've said before, it could be a month it could be years, i honestly cannot say. but when the momentum of dragging myself thru another day runs out, when i cannot endure any more of this agony, i will put an end to my pain. i would hope, reading these posts, you would see it was not whimsical. i would hope, understanding that, you would be happy for me. i would hope that you would see that it was what i needed to do. i would hope that you would realize i had nothing left.

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