How am I supposed to do this?!

OKAY SO. 

I was having a lovely time with my insomnia, watching Nick Camryn videos because I’m a smol bean trying to reassure myself in life that I’ll one day look how I feel when I realise –

I’M GOING TO HAVE TO DO MY OWN TESTOSTERONE INJECTIONS. 

HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO STICK A NEEDLE IN MYSELF – FUCK NO. 

Let me assure you that I’m quite scared of blood, needles, anything that touches my ears, mouth, eyes kinda areas. I’m especially paranoid of dentists and – you guess it – needles!

HahahahahHAHA – FUCK. 

I am actually going to die from one of the one things I want most. Yay. Dammit. 

Theatre and shit

Theatre and photography are probably the one two things that are somewhat school related that I’ve ever really wanted to do (other than psychology and chemistry, but those don’t count *happy giggles*). I mean, sure, they aren’t really going to help me in my future career too much, but they sound fun as fuck! Especially theatre! 

I’ve realised perhaps because of my usual appearance of long blonde hair and glasses I won’t exactly get the roles I prefer – male roles, but the hope is always there. I mean, hell, when I have the non-laziness to do it I can somehow put that chewbacca amount of gold hair into a beanie and it look flat (which can be a pain to be honest). 

I suppose, I’m not going to get what I want for a long while. Three years isn’t really that long of a wait, considering other people and their situations, but part of me longs to be known as my proper gender in high school, you know? People always tell me to enjoy being young (mostly because I’m rather mature and a bit closed off at times), but that’s a bit hard when all you’re doing is waiting for you to be legally allowed to move away from your parents. I want to enjoy high school with jeans and flannel shirts, short hair, and binders. Talking to guys about my girlfriend and how adorable she is and shit like that, but here I am, blonde hair and all.

Fuck that shit though. I’m just as much guy as anyone else. I know I angrily rant on here, forgive me please. And maybe once I’m more independent and not afraid of my mother I’ll get my hair cut and wear what I want, but for now… I’m just here, and I’ll be okay.