Got Mad While Watching The Atla Live Action And Just Decided To Rewatch The Cartoon.

Nevermind. It’s all good! I got the gender right today so everything is going to be alright

What do you mean I have to get up and go to class?

I just want to get high and watch movies with my friends.

And now you’re telling me I gotta contribute to society?

Fuck off!

I DID A PRESENTATION ON THIS!!!!

Lips - Janice

Brad/Janet - Human (fuck you, I know what I’m doing)

Riff Raff - Gonzo

Magenta - Camila the Chicken

Columbia - Miss. Piggy

Frank N Furter - Kermit the Frog

Rocky - Link Hogthrob

Eddie - Animal

Dr. Scott - Bunsen

Criminologist - Statler and Waldorf

I have thought extensively about this don’t even try me motherfuckers

What do you mean I have to get up and go to class?

I just want to get high and watch movies with my friends.

And now you’re telling me I gotta contribute to society?

Fuck off!

grabs your hand. you've had enough plot and exposition and character development lately im taking you to the beach episode

A Woman named Zoey

The other night, I met a woman named Zoey. It was the first time I had met someone who had my old name. It was jarring at first, but the more I think about it, the more poetic it becomes.

Zoey was a headstrong, smart, artistic, and funny little girl. She was adventurous and friendly. She used to approach other kids on the playground, introduce herself, and within minutes she would have a new best friend. Zoey used to be able to come up with a million ideas in one night and write them all down to explore in the morning. Zoey was hurt by people she trusted a lot and she forgave them because she didn’t want them to get hurt. She got hit over and over and still stood up. She was scared, but she had a big heart.

I’m not her anymore. I’m not Zoey. I haven’t been Zoey in a long time. I’ve been Joey, Eliott, Z, Grey, and Felix, but Zoey has become a stranger to me. The little girl who spent so much time being abandoned by the strangers she thought were her best friends, was abandoned by the person who should have loved her most. I spent a lot of time hating her. Hating her innocence, hating her femininity, hating her openness. 

But then the other night, I met a woman named Zoey. She was a trans woman, probably at the same time in her transition that I was. Only out for a few years, and still getting used to the new name. At first, it was uncomfortable saying the name out loud again. It felt foreign, like another language. But the more I think about it, the more I find comfort in it. I didn’t abandon her. I simply let her become a new person. 

I’ve only started to believe more in spirituality, and this was almost cosmic. Cause now there’s me and there’s Zoey. I got to see the person she’s become. She’s still smart, funny, and friendly. She’s still learning and growing. I don’t know much about the woman she’s become, but I know that she’s ok. She’s going to be ok.

transgender yearning

COOPER! COOP! THE PEOPLE DOWN AT THE BUREAU ARE ACCUSING YOU AND THE SHERIFF OF SOMETHING KNOWN AS DOOMED YAOI. YOURE FUJOING OUT THEYRE SAYING. NOW I STAND WITH YOU COOP I AM A BIT OF A FUJOSHI MYSELF BUT THEYRE NOT TOO HAPPY ABOUT THIS DOWN IN WASHINGTON.

we've done it again folks

The Act of Undressing

There is something so painfully and uniquely trans about the act of taking off your clothes. And I don’t even mean in a sexual manner. I mean, the feeling of going home after a long day and standing in your room getting ready for bed. I woke up this morning and just like any other day got ready. As I put on my outfit, my bracelets and necklaces, my vest, and my makeup, I slowly began to recognize the person I saw in the mirror. The dysphoria melted away and I became comfortable. There was a boy standing where I was standing.

I go out, have a pretty good day, go see my friends for a little bit and return home early so I can recharge my social battery. Suddenly, I’m standing in the bathroom again, just like I was this morning. I take off my chains, jewelry, and makeup. And as I do, I realize how much work I put in this morning to feel as masculine as I did. Now the carefully crafted boy was melting away into the old face and body. The person I no longer recognize as myself.

I take off my clothes alone in my room, and I’m suddenly very aware of my body. The body I hid under my clothes all day. It’s not mine anymore and it won’t be mine until I can change it.

it rules to be a transgender writer because writing trans themes is easy as fuck. it's easy as fuck dude. trans themes basically write themselves. change is the fundamental motor of storytelling. guess what else is all about change bitch