#queerbutch

It was a drag show downtown. I was so mesmerized. I enjoyed simply watching and observing. The energy was insatiable.

When the bouncer asked for my ID, they complimented my tree of life necklace. I smiled at them through my eyes and with my face. A real smile, not something forced. And I thanked them for noticing.

I’m learning to like people again. What a rush every single personality is.

I’d almost forgotten, in my solitude, that queer spaces like that existed.

Face Update.

Influx of acne as expected. Hunger has not increased, but is definitely more noticeable.

My downstairs is a little sore and more red than usual, but nothing alarming.

All in all, I’m happy.

And you know what? Some people hate to see genuine happiness. All they know is textbook emotion.

Wednesday. July 9th, 2025.

This Saturday, I received a care package from an individual who shall remain anonymous. Within the package was two months supply of testosterone gel for the purposes of hormone replacement therapy. More might be coming, but if this it, God let it strike me like lightning.

I started the doses Monday, trepidation in my heart Saturday night and all through Sunday. It’s strange to have something so valuable within your possession.

I’ve been on t-gel before, for three months in 2021. (or was it 2020? covid-era seemed inter-dimensional)

The changes then were minimal but significant. My voice dropped an octave or two, my chin hair thickened and so did patches of body hair. My libido levels were up and so was my energy. My monthly cycle slowed but did not disappear.

Completely Androgynous. I suppose that’s what I’m hoping to achieve.