What Do I Look Like To You?
I truly don't know. What does your brain think about me when you see my mask, my tits, my hair, my tattoos. What do you think when you hear my voice, my name? What do you think when you smell my perfume?
Do I pass? Does my dress confuse you? Am I too tall, my voice too deep?
I know I am gorgeous. Deeply beautiful. Regal, statuesque. For gods' sake, my tits are the size of my head and my thighs are thick as fuck.
Are you attracted to me? I have no fucking idea. For all my power and skill I still have no idea how you people work.
I'm sure I appear quite normal. Your perfectly average well-spoken young trans girl. Is my mimicry effective?
Are you familiar with the Photuris genus of firefly? The females of this genus are famous for aggressive mimicry. They mimic the blinking patterns of female of other firefly species and then, when a male firefly lands, expecting to mate, the Photuris female eats him.
I don't really care how you see me. That's the thing that this all comes down to.
I'm not being very coherent; I'd apologize but you're never going to read this.
I will paint my eyes and adorn my skin. I will drape myself in silk and cloak myself in the cologne of empire. I will reform myself into something powerful, something golden and true and sharp. And you will never see it
For you, I will play along, play the role that I have created for myself. Actress and writer and director.
So tell me, oh figment of mine: What do I look like to you?