𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙾𝚏

sometimes i forget people exist when i don't see them for a while

It’s like wondering if you’ll be noticed and not wanting to be looked at - at the same time. ‘Will they ever realize?’ I wonder. 'Please don’t try to.’ I beg. I remember the lump in my throat from when I was a child. It wanted to be louder. To be listened to and smiled at. And then when I grew into my teen years it wanted to be liked. To be fantasized over and kissed. Now here I am - young and yet withered so far… And I don’t know if I want to be perceived at all.

i just realize that im not a girlboss im just fcking deranged and hysterical.

I used to think about older men, even before Lesley. I had an imaginary sugar daddy; I had affairs in my head with actors and musicians thrice my age; I had intentional and prolonged eye-contact withy dad's friends. Whether I'm in control or losing it, I've always had a power thing, I think.

There's something so horrifying and putrid about my feminimity. Everytime I lean into it, I become a God. I can't just be pretty, I want to fuck, destroy, possess, be the center of attention, be the best. I want to cut others down with my tongue, persuade with my breasts, and lather myself in blood to soften my skin. I want to take a knife and pull myself apart at the seams, like a cheap pair of stockings yanking each vein out like a loose thread. I've never understood how to be feminine so every attempt I make is monstrous, bitter, jealous of the girls who are naturally petite and gorgeous, while I am just a fucking abomination of sweaty makeup, desire, and rage. I have no fucking clue who I am, and I am holding a lighter up to the wax of myself trying to reshape myself into something pretty and quaint. Instead I am just fleshy and pink, writhing and seething.

Theyre jsut like me fr