controversy



listen, i am not cis.
that does not entitle anyone to assign me a gender. i am afraid to tell people that i am taking testosterone because ciswomen bully me about being “too” masculine. But that’s not new, because i am consistently read as a woman, people police my id. The idea that a woman would embody masculinity is disgusting and not allowed. Masculinity is not inherently problematic unless it embodies patriarchy. Controversial I know. 

Just let me enjoy motorcycles, dance at punk shows, have a mullet, be outgoing, climb stuff, cry in public, struggle with survival, admire gay cowboys, wear lipstick, support my friends, take boxing lessons, callout men when they harass me and my friends, wear dresses and tights, change my pronoun, [don’t] have sex, have hairy legs, shave my armpitts, brodown, femmeup, be an introvert and shoot Testosterone. 

I hate pronouns and identities for myself and respect everyone elses pronouns & identities. Just stop policing mine. It’s fucking boring and annoyingly still hurts. 

*i am not talking about transwomen because i am not a transwomen but i am talking about transmisogeny when transwomen aren’t allowed to have masculine attributes either. 

fuck you patriarchy. 

Title Fight - "Head In The Ceiling Fan" - YouTube

..If you see me can you tell me I’m real. Living makes even less sense

HEY! GENDER POLICE!

You are defyingly boring…

anyone who labels without consent is on the hitlist…

forgiven but never forgotten…

and forever yawning.

RECKLESS RECKMORE

GET YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER DUDER

if you had a bike you’d be fine. you’d be going to fast to think about how much of an asshole your best friend is. going so fast that all the truth of your words that hit him in his face wouldn’t make you feel shame. You’d only feel speed. So fast that your body disappears with the asphalt. i’d only have the beautiful terror of crashing into something, anything. the sweet sting of cuts, bruises, roadrash, memory loss. i’m in control of this wreckage of trying to be a damn “good” human being. 

fuck all the ambiguous conflicts. fuck not being able to confront them. fuck all the hellbent lies. fuck this body i hate but people think is hot. fuck being supportive to people who annoy the shit out of you. fuck people who want you to open up more. fuck me for wanting people to open up to me. fuck straight people. fuck this apartment. fuck people who don’t dance at punk shows. fuck your logic. fuck all you gawkers on the street. fuck people for thinking i’m intimidating. fuck my dislocated legs. fuck your smarts. fuck your privileged notion of being entitled to the “ideal” radical loving relationship. fuck not being a fuck up.

it’s your own fucking fault

fuck your judgments of me getting recked

it’s me or you.