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Born This Way, Heaven or Hell?

Take the most heterosexual male we can imagine, looking in the mirror he sees breasts and a vagina on his body looking through the only tiny windows in his prison cell, his eyes. Imagine what that would do to the most heterosexual male. It’s a life of misery, and one many try to kill themselves to escape. The bulling, and right out discrimination doesn’t help either. Hell I typically never leave my house, because I fear that I will run across the wicked person who hates girls like me and will execute me.

Democratic Propaganda

The media is the propaganda wing of the Democrat party, and after the embarrassment over no Russia collusion, the Mueller report, and the non-existent quid pro quo Ukraine, they will do anything to bring down the Trump administration, even if they have to destroy your finances. Along with trying to mess with our finances, I truly believe this is a tactic intentionally put in place by the Democrats, and their cronies, the media, to scare the population from getting out and voting.

Hijacked Identity

Very quickly I lost sight of the woman who was emerging, and she was hijacked willingly by a smooth talking, good-looking boy. I was forty years old at the time, and here was this young twenty-three year old strapping young man showing me interest. I was completely blinded, and swept up in the moment. I loved how he treated me, and loved the things he would say to me. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, and knew exactly how I needed to be treated.

Nice Friendly Visit

It’s funny how things happen, because if my friend had never messaged me, I would have been in the house all day talking to myself. My sister-in-law went to Arkansas when she got off work this morning, so she was gone. My sister and I aren’t talking so there wasn’t a chance she was going to pop by. It would have been a long lonely day, but instead my buddy was here with me, and we talked about EVERYTHING imaginable.

Dreams Of Being Trapped

boy with facial hair with red lipstick on applying blush
The ending of the dream is what hurts the most and has for many reasons. For as long as I can remember recognizing myself in a mirror, I have always looked at the reflection and asked myself, "who is this boy, guy, man, that I'm looking at"? The four years that I was with Nicholas I didn't do this. I felt validated for who I am. I thought he understood who I am. Now that he's gone I find myself looking in the mirror asking myself this again. It saddens me to hate the body god gave me. I've asked god a million times, why? It's even worse being enclosed in someone else's skin. No one will ever understand that feeling unless their transgender themselves.