Sitting here tryna figure something…this life is all the shakes, makes me wanna milky my way back to the center of the trannyverse… but then I realise I’m already here.
I have been feeling like I’m on startrek. The crew of the Enterprise is tryna hold the ship together as the stars fly by.
Buy me another life and return the one I always had to the store.
What for? Do you have the receipt?
Before and before and before again, it has always been the same. I am going to BE, for a change. I looked back on the past so much that now when I am finally going forward I don’t actually know who I am, was, am going to be… will I be pretty, will I be Rich, here’s what I said to me…
“Be UR self… no more ish-mess. U missed the kiss goodbye but don’t worry.”
I don’t want to be that way anymore. I’m not bothered that I will never see me again because I no longer fit into that skin. I grew up. Now instead, I can only see me. Four days and suddenly I realise that this anxiety I have been feeling is what you feel when you step through the threshold of the old, the past is no longer there with all its fear. I hear me telling myself to worry, but I know to my core that there is nothing to worry about. Now I am somewhere else and it is reallly really good. Really good.
This life is perfect, and now so unfamiliar, this feeling of falling down the stairs collapsed is in my bones, but I eat the marrow and feed the new alive.
I pace back and forth and understand that there is no fight, no more flight from the beast of beating drums, strum the chord that harmonises for the first time. I sang this song the other day, and I heard my voice cracking the shattered shards of misfortunate upbringings, singing my heart out of its clenched fenced in facade. It’s sometimes hard to believe in no worries. Sorry, I apologise. The disguise is gone.
I walk forward and smile.
Sociology of Difference by Zuleyka Zevallos
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A queer writer of queer things.
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