#another useless post

[tokoyami-squad]

AHHHHHH

[bakugouisabitch]

​i know I’m just a sad, lonely, depressed fucker who contemplates the meaning of life far too often (to an unhealthy degree)…… but sometimes I’m in such a big mood to talk with you people, friends or just followers, about whatever the fuck is up, just chatting and joking with people, having proper pure fun with another person……. problem is I can’t start a conversation, and I can’t. like,, talk??

[purinna]

Am I the only one that gets the urge to go to Netherlands and walk around colored buildings.

[anotheruselessblogpost]

I’ve never liked having my picture taken.

Like, not because they’ve been bad pictures. I’m actually rather photogenic and would absolutely love having my picture taken.

If it didn’t mean seeing a stranger in my place.

I look wrong in photos, in mirrors. I look wrong and I sound wrong and it’s all just wrong.

Do not get me wrong. I appreciate the body I’m in. It’s as strong as I need it and as healthy as I could even ask for with all the shit I put it through.

But it’s not right.

It’s never been right.

I don’t like public restrooms anymore because of it. Not that I ever did like them, but now I dread it more. My hair is so drastically different, I’ve literally had people turn around and double check the sign when I’m using the one at work or any other public place.

I’ve thankfully never been harassed and maybe that’s because of the gender I was born into. Maybe it’s because I don’t give people a chance to. Maybe it’s because I avoid any sort of confrontation I can.

I know it’s not healthy to keep this mindset, to always be on edge and avoid people seeing me, but I don’t know how to handle it any differently. I don’t know what to think or how to feel. I can’t even give you a straight answer if I’m transgender or not.

All I know is that the body I’m in isn’t right. It looks wrong and I hate how every time someone wants a picture I duck out, or how I avoid looking in mirrors at home yet ogle at my own face when I catch my reflection elsewhere. 

I don’t know what to think anymore.

Maybe all of this is just useless.

It’s not like I’ll ever get the chance to change any of it anyways.

~Useless

[anotheruselessblogpost]

Ac just kicked on and scared the shit out of me. XD It's gonna take me a while to get used to the new and different sounds of the new system.

[anotheruselessblogpost]

The strangest thing:

Realizing how fucking loud the furnace really was once it's been replaced. 0-0

It's official; the landlord finally came through with the new furnace after too many years of the old one humming regardless if it was on or off. It's so fucking quiet in my home now, I can hear the ringing in my ears that is feedback from a day full of sound.

As much as it freaks me out, it's nice to know my ears will be getting relief from all the noise while I sleep.

[anotheruselessblogpost]

I like having a blog not properly attached to my main one. Mostly because I can talk about shit that’s bugging me without worrying someone I know seeing it and knowing it’s me.

Because I feel like a complete moron.

I read fanfic. It’s a rather common pastime a lot of folks on here do. Those of ya that don’t, feel free to continue reading but I don’t guarantee this’ll make any sense.

I’ve gotten the chance to speak to an author I follow on AO3 and I was thrown for a loop. That doesn’t happen to me, at least not often enough where I’m used to it. So, I did the idiotic babble for a good paragraph because I have yet to learn how not to before returning to the most normal that I am, which is surprisingly decent seeing as I’m not that normal.

It was going pretty well - paragraphs back and forth, long, hardy discussion - but then it hit a point that suddenly flared my insecurities.

I can’t call it anxiety even though it probably was because I don’t know if it was. I have nothing as a baseline to make such a call but whatever.

The conversation hit a point that appeared to be a touchy subject - and I say appeared because it was a text chat and I’m already horrible understanding the finer points of face-to-face conversations. I tried fixing it but I had nothing to rely on to know if I was correcting any misstep the conversation had taken.

And then their replies got really short.

Like, word count short.

They could have been distracted or doing something, I get it, but my broken ass self went right into “wrong”.

"You did wrong.“

"You did wrong and there is nothing you can do to fix it.”

And no matter what I told my brain, it remained focused on that one idea.

Now, the conversation ends well so I hadn’t fucked up royally but I still felt - and still feel - like I had been nothing more than a nuisance and another overenthusiastic fan.

Hooray for not being enough as a kid

~Useless

[anotheruselessblogpost]

The nice thing about a blog no one knows about is the freedom to post whatever crap one wishes to post.

Today, I shall post my oddity and writing.

I am odd.

This is fact.

I can't stop writing.

This is also fact.

Day in and day out my brain creates stories. Only a few ever make it to paper.

It is sad when I get emotional from my own writings.

Another fact.

It is even sadder that I crave for others to read and give me feedback on my writings. I need the attention like I need to breathe and it's sad.

Really sad.

And this is fact.

So, with that said, I'm going to go back and reread some of what I've written to fill the desire of someone reading my work.

~Useless