Rhys (Atticapathetic)

[atticapathetic-blog]

Him.

A Rant.

I'm jealous of Him. I'm jealous of them. The people who can transition without being abused. Without being hit with cords, plugs and fists and open hands that would've fucking held my hand only a few years prior- before I knew anything abut the world, about my world. I'm jealous of Him, because He has the money to bind, He has the family that accepts Him, He has the friends, He has the everything that I want. He is my world on every extent, but I'm only a silent bystander over-watching the progress He can make while I'm left alone. I yearn His appreciation, His knowledge on how to pass- but I can never amount. I'm jealous of my family- the ones who raised me through a screen. My blood is not my own- but I'd give it all for Him if He needed it. But I still envy Him, it's a hate that is not for Him, but for myself that I will never amount to His standards. I can never pass. I act and joke like I DON'T CARE but I'm sick of it; having to compare myself to Him. It's not His fault either, it's my own. I want to leave. I want to get out. I want to be my own but I don't know how. He tells me to find a way. But He doesn't understand. He's been able to live as a man since Middle School, I presume, He doesn't know what it's like to be beaten down just because you happen to be a bit different. I tell Him what happens. I told Him. I'm unhappy. And I don't know what I can do to become happy.

[atticapathetic-blog]

But I’m not okay

I’m happy- But I’m not. A blissful silence in the brainpan shakes my world and remembry like a box of dull rocks. I can smile- I can laugh I can love my life But by the time I’m under lonely covers of an empty twin bed I really realize that shit isn’t okay My friends are being fucked over and all the things I come to love seem to die. Kinda like a flower. Happy and alive on the bushel but once you cut the stem everything is cold, bare,  and just kind of fucking dreary.  But what’s it matter anyways?

[atticapathetic-blog]

I've never felt love like I have today. Where I feel so glad to know someone's alive and alright- I break into tears. He may have hurt himself yesterday and the thousands of days before but I know that the past doesn't define our future. The shittiest part is- we're 2 states apart.

Rhys (Me.)

[maisy-the-trans-mouse]

Trans people who don’t experience dysphoria are valid!

Trans people who experience low dysphoria are valid!

Trans people who experience mild dysphoria are valid!

Trans people who experience severe dysphoria are valid!

Trans people who experience fluid dysphoria are valid!

You are trans enough.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[atticapathetic-blog]

Wait- So if you’re TRANS WITHOUT DYSPHORIA doesn’t that ENTIRELY undermine the fact that being trans is to socially and physically change your form to what the mind developed as, rather than the body? This is fucking stupid, but the rest is okay. I’m NB myself, I have crippling dysphoria, but there are different ranges, but none is not a possibility since the obvious thing of: “Why would you change your body if you’re content with it?”

[atticapathetic-blog]

Agender and Transitioning

What’s it like being a boy? And being okay with it? Or a girl and being okay with it? I wonder. Is it fun? I’ve never really understood anything more than the pressure to be a cis afab, and the yearning to be something less. What’s it like to enjoy being called something like a girl? It’s absurd to me, as you see. I wanna be a boy to be masculine and cool, but I like eyeliner and those Harry Potter glasses that some girls wear because it frames their face in a really cute way, but at the exact same time, my mind can’t choose which? I don’t feel like either, but it doesn’t waver. It’s the same every day. Wearing packers made of socks and about a million sportsbras to finally see some type of physical change. It makes me oddly sick to see myself barely change. My work isn’t hard enough, so I’m gonna go and work on it. I’m going to hit that point where I’m not going to cry in the mirror when there’s a slight feminine feature that I don’t like. I don’t want to be misgendered anymore. I’m going to work my way on alone, since my family won’t help. I don’t want to be seen as an alien anymore. I want to spite my mean teachers who call the wrong name by looking completely unlike my girly name and just smirk and say: “It’s Rhys, Miss. Please correct yourself, as you look like a fool.” 

[atticapathetic-blog]

Why am I even alive?

Why? Just- why? Why do I wake up at 6 AM in the morning to just soon roll over and want to stay at home? Where has my motivation gone? Where can I travel to get it back? What's the point of traveling to end a paradox? I need to gain motivation to get that exact thing back? It's impossible. Little prescription drugs are the frame to my depressing image, no longer closed to time. Worms and parasites bite at this state of mind, feeding off of it, only making it worse. Wake up. Why am I alive to just be in an endless loop? I wear several sportsbras and hoodies in the summer and winter just to feel okay with myself? I can't breathe. My organs are collapsing and so are the twigs that we call legs on the table that holds the heavy weight of my surroundings. I scream for help, but all there is- is a whisper of sound. I can't escape. My voice isn't loud enough anymore. The arm light of the overhang on the stove enlightens the angular hands of the blood and tears my past brought back on a silver pained trap. Why am I even alive anymore? Why? Why? Why, God why?

[atticapathetic-blog]

This might be the best thing I have ever seen.

[atticapathetic-blog]

Imagine (not a poem this time)

You know those sticky hand things that you’d get from a really shitty vending machine?

Imagine if you tried to throw it at the air, but it caught on like a piece of dust and you flew into the universe with that  Shooting Stars meme song just like blaring as you actually die of lack of oxygen?

Am I stupid for laughing my ass off at this?

[atticapathetic-blog]

Hide

I hide my body I hide my scars I hide everything that makes me alive In camera, I’m blank but behind the screen I smile I smile tatters of cloth and shattered glass I broke out once, but now I want to go back. This home This home sweet home No windows open No doors unlocked. I want to be hidden Then maybe, it’ll be a good enough illusion to fool myself.

[atticapathetic-blog]

My cat is laying on my legs, she’s keeping them warm, and Mary Lambert’s “She Keeps Me Warm” starts playing.... (IMAGE EDITED MY MEEE)

[atticapathetic-blog]

A nice little speed drawing I did on a whim today

[atticapathetic-blog]

I know I’m more of a ‘free-lance poetry’ tumblr user, but eh. I finished a piece of art that took 2 months to do. If you want to comment any of your tips, feel free to, I want to improve as an artist.

[atticapathetic-blog]

Talk to me (By AtticApathetic)

Why won't you  Why won't you Why wont you  talk to me?  talk to me?  Talk to me Talk to me.  I said:  TALK TO ME Am I going  I-N-S-A-N-E  This sick reflection of me It's too sadistic to be true? Mirrors  Mirrors  Look at me  The black screen is just a makeshift mirror. Turn on the computer so I don't have to see myself I am a disgrace.

[atticapathetic-blog]

Sorry

Holo. Rhys here. Mmkay, I’ll get this sad-ish post over with. I’m losing inspiration nowadays. I don’t know what’s wrong with my head, but I can’t write anything more than depressing things (as my followers OBVIOUSLY know) so it’s kind of weird to just be *blank* emotionally. It’s odd. I’m not as depressed, since Christmas started rolling around and rolled away. I’d say I want to go back to writing, but god knows I shouldn't be depressed just to find some stupid-ass validation online with poems. Also, random thingie: thank you to all the people cared to like and share my shit

[skittlingskittles]

My birthday gift to a friend, Rhys. :—)

[atticapathetic-blog]

**I know this is 3 days late, but why are you so flubbing greaaaaat

[atticapathetic-blog]

Overdose (original poem by yours truly)

If I were overdose. On those goddamn happy pills you gave me in confidence. Wouldn't that be fucking ironic? Wouldn't that be fucking great? I lead you like a lamb to the fucking slaughter, saying "I'm fine" "It's nothing" But now the sharks are circling, And I wish my blood would just roam free On the tile that you had been lying on before I was born, in pain. All for my birth. What a waste of breath. What a waste. What a fucking waste. This is the fucking price of your ignorance The life of your precious fucking "Daughter" What'cha gonna fucking do when there's blood on your hands now? What? Hide it? Call me the sick one? When you deliberately did this shit to me? Fuck you. I want to overdose. I've overdone from the oven. My mind is burning up. Those fucking happy pills... Are a fucking placebo.

[atticapathetic-blog]

Sleepsong

I want to sleep. But I can’t. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid Afraid I won’t wake up I say I want to die, But I’m scared of it. Maybe I can’t sleep because of the overwhelming light and dark of this screen? I can’t sleep. My head is swimming and all I can do is think. Think that the second I leave... People will hate me. Please don’t hate me? These excuses are catching up. Maybe I just need to ignore the signs and neon lights and just- Just sleep.