Monsterhigh-fanatic - Y R U Here???

if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao

Let us not forget our true Lord and savior

*Breaths is* BOY MY FEELS IF U EVER NEED TO TALK JUST MESSAGE ME

boy

wake up

undress

look down

the stress pours in my mind like water as it trickles down the drain, a pain the main percentage of the general population will never feel.

so how do i learn to deal with this, with this fat hanging off my chest and these curves in places where they’d never be on what’s considered a “real boy”.

but what’s a real boy anyway?

and if it’s not me, what am i?

a grey area, a there she-ah goes again, shopping from the men’s section and chopping off her hair, oh god, why can’t she just be a normal girl?

after all, my version of the piece of paper that they assign to every child does read female.

that and a name that makes me want to scream bloody murder because the pain it puts me through isn’t something anyone should gain if they want to stay sane.

but anyway, going back to my body

well, to put it simply, it robs me of my happiness and i cant tell you how many nights i’ve spent sobbing and screaming and hoping and believe me, if i could make it go away, i would.

but the truth is that i cant stand this voice and its highness, and this face and its roundness, and this chest and its fullness, and everything else about the human nest my xx chromosomes live inside to taunt me with the words of everyone who’s ever called me “she” to hurt me or even just because they saw me and thought i was a she, was a her, was a girl.

but really, i can’t blame them because i don’t portray a him, or a he, or a boy, or a me

so i’m just sitting here inside my house that i can no longer leave because of the fear that someone on the street will see me and read me as what i appear to be.

and i’m crying and shaking and writing some shitty piece about my aching to be called boyfriend by my s/o’s, son by my mother, please uncles. call me nephew, please siblings, call me brother.

i cant change my biology

but you can change the words you use and honestly, i’m fucking tired of pretending that i don’t care what you call me because i care so much that at this point i’m only half joking when i say i’m going to kill myself.

i mean, maybe i’m already dying because it feels like i’m choking on every “she” i’m forced to swallow and pretend that i’m not noticing.

so do me a favor.

remember only this if the words i’ve just spoken are already fading from your mind.

please be so kind as to call me boy.

wouldnt it be cool to just like not feel nervous about everything all the time

Welcome to Tumblr.

“ I A M A T U R T L E “

🐢🐢🐢

(This has apparently become a thing now so yeah NO REGRETS plus it’s my first experiment on washi tapes so yah)

Reblog if you believe that youtubers are genuine, hard working people who deserve their success

I’m trying to prove a point

This would 100% be me.

Bark bark bark woof woof