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ANYWAY my last bitch manager is rping a fictional character who "wouldn't take shit" on fb now, so at least i'm glad i had such a long-standing effect on her. poor baby doesn't have a tranny to abuse anymore. tranny didn't take extended mental abuse and sexual harassment with a smile. tranny told on me and i suffered the least amount of consequences i ever could for what i've done. boo fucking hoo.
be glad you still get to taint the air you breathe
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i feel like i'm losing my mind. in what fucking world is this ever an acceptable thing to do to someone? isolate them completely from a job, support, housing, dignity, bodily autonomy. why can't i do something? why can't i hurt back in the way that actually fucking matters? these people have everything, support, stability, family, they own their places to live. this alone makes them untouchable. and it's still too fucking little for them. a hideous monster of a bitch won't rest until the tranny dies huh? it's her conscious choice to make me think the same about her. at least it should be conscious.
tbh i fear the next time i'm given a chance for an interview, next time i get a job. i'm worried something's gonna happen to me again. it's been too much.
mental help requires access to basic healthcare (a job) or - and it's the safest route if you're trans, or a woman, really - money. i don't have either, so my only way of coping is to suck it up, "do it scared". the thing is i always have to do it scared while i think that i should have access to support that people who parrot this shit in the first place usually already do. "do it scared", "persist anyway". eat shit.
as much as i push on because i have to, the thought of a phone call from a potential job terrifies me. i want to skip all of it to already be hired, clued in, simply fucking doing my job, with little chance of someone harming me.
"hey trans girls if you wanna gain body fat you should just eat more"
fuck, thanks, i haven't thought of that
i don't think i'm gonna live to see people treating us any better, not with so many people believing this anti-feminist tmra trash and fighting over how hypervisible we are.
i'm so fucking tired. take it all away from me. i just wanna live as a person and not have to interact with people like this, and not think about how i'm trans and where it places me in the society each day i'm still there. let's switch places so you can fuck off.
sincerely, y'all are fucking pathetic. hopefully years from now, people will be laughing at you and be collectively ashamed to have ever given you any time of day or recognition. the dark age of the queer "community".
btw how is the shithole that is tumblr with all its bans of poc and tma userbase, still seemingly miles ahead of other platforms, is beyond me.
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using her as a dumping ground for thoughts and dropping shortly after she asked me again to stop and be friends, especially since she's become even more inconvenient after something happened to her, is fine. she should know her place. being petty about it and talking shit about a fictional character is where i draw the line. this fictional character is so misunderstood and overlooked after all... no one treats her seriously and she's demonized for each time she opens her mouth.
i wish her the best in whatever she's going through, that caused her to write such horrible things
I HATE DREAMING
the fucker's been drilling in this goddamn wall for the past six months and he just doesn't stop. it's a small fucking apartment, how incompetent do you have to be for it to take so long?
the best part about it is that i can't do shit because all my manchild of a landlord does is raising the rent and he can't be fucked to actually WORK for his money.
they do this each and every year, it's driving us crazy, but it's usually just for the summer season. and here we are at the end of October. please someone explain it to me and stop me from putting this power drill right up his ass.
i can't write, i can't watch anything, i can't sleep, i can't rest in my bedroom, and god forbid i have a job interview from home. all i hear is their child, his tools, HIM (and never his wife or the older child, because it's usually one and the same gender that's always fucking raised like that) and their dog. i know the names of their children, as well as their dog - that's how loud ThE mAn Of ThE hOuSe is.
it's a small apartment, not a fucking single-family home, ACT LIKE IT
