(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos

You sit there, pathetically, and let her words pour over you. Each of them burn and sting. They all listen to her and ignore you. But you deserve that. You're different. They know you're a different kind. So they let her talk differently to you, and they do too. The more they side with her, the more you feel like she's right. They tell you it's not that bad. The words can never hurt you. And you try not to let them in. You invent your own words to use. You let the tiny blades do the damage. They'll never notice. Why should they? You get used to the burning and the stinging and you forget. You go along with it. She's the one with the problem you tell others, and you know it isn't true. And they know it isn't true. But they go along, and you pretend. And you feel nothing. And you ignore. And you pretend. She leaves, and you pretend. You're still isolated and you're still different. And they still treat you different. And you ignore. And you forget. And you start to feel again. And you pretend. She comes back. And they forget. And you pretend. And she strikes again. And they ignore. And you pretend. And you try and go numb. And you try resiliance. And you remember. She goes for another, and they notice finally. And the support the other, but you're different. It's your fault. And you ignore. And the heat rises. And you're scolded. And you ignore. And you try to forget.


Tags:

Dear Mom Diaries
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos

Yesterday I tweeted (yes, I tweet.. @toryinglis if you're interested) something to my mom, only she didn't read it because she doesn't have twitter, nor does she know that I do, which is good and I'd like to keep it that way. It got me thinking about how many other people worldwide must do the same thing, so I've gathered a few of the most recent tweets to mothers. May I present: The Dear Mom Diaries, in 140 characters or less.

Dear mom I think about a bunch of random things as you waste your time yelling at me.

Dear Mom, just because the show I'm watching mentions suicide doesn't mean I shouldn't watch it.

dear mom... PLEASE GET ME AN @OCEANGROVEBAND t-shirt for my birthday :)

dear mom, i just bought chocolate today. be expecting some empty wrappers in the mail soon. hahaha. yes, payback for sure. :) hahaha =)

Dear mom, i love you but your ridiculous, in so many ways. & it bothers me :/ lexi.

Dear mom, stop being ridiculous or I will directly put my hands on your toothbrush because I know you don't like that

Dear mom, u better find my fucking nissan intelligent key for my truck, that shit cost $375 to replace, what's wrong with you??

Dear mom, No i will not wash the dishes nor wake up at 5am to get ready for school. Love. ME :)

Dear Mom...2day would've been a good day for those coloring books *lol*

Dear mom, news flash! NO ONE is perfect so stop trying to make me what you classify as "perfect"

Dear mom, stfu please. K thanks

Dear mom and dad, stop going away midweek

Dear mom. Can you stop picking up my room. I hate it. Leave it alone. Cuz ur just messing with my stuff and I'm gonna explode.

dear mom,please shushhh! ur so loud i don't wanna hear you talking to the tv -__-

Dear Mom, STOP calling my name every 2 mins before I change it and not tell you the new one. Kayy thanks

Dear mom fucking die


-------I realize how lame this really was after writing it out, but it's too late to change anything-------

(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos

I slipped by unnoticed, blended in with the scenery. I had unrequited love. I harbored resentment. I escaped thoughts. Easily forgotten. A question mark among the lines.
Then people noticed, stuck out like a sore thumb. Rejected at face value. Loved. Lingered. The questions answered for me.
Tried to slip by, wore camouflage. Hide love. Hide hate. Be unmemorable. Remain questionable.

It never happened. Still noticed, still rejected, still loved, still lingered. Still being figured out by everybody else.

No such thing as just existing. Ignore the curves, watch the soul. Forget the pitch, hear the message.



(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos
You tell me God loves me. You tell me that God will never turn his back on me, no matter what I do. No matter how sinful I am, God will take me back in his arms. You tell me about the sins, and that I will be forgiven. You tell me about those that God banished for eternity, but that God will forgive me. You tell me about the cities that we're destroyed by God because they were too sinful, and that God will forgive me. You tell me that I can do no wrong in God's eyes, he will forgive me.
I tell you that I am a homosexual. You tell me that I can never be forgiven.

I wrote this for creative writing (please comment, I need to know what to change)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos
Xe lay down on the soft grass and looked up at the stars. Xe was so far in the depths of xyrs mind xe almost didn't notice when another form lay next to xyrs. Xe looked at hir and was swimming in hir deep blue eyes. Xe smiled as hir eyes wandered up to the sky. Xe looked back up at the sky and they lay there until the sun came up. Xe looked back over to talk to hir, the only thing there was the shape hir body left in the grass. Xe felt it, still warm. Sitting up xe noticed the surroundings were much different during the day. The children running in the field, the elderly couple taking a stroll. Xe looked back up at the sky and figured that it was sometime mid-day. Xe knew it wouldn't be much longer until the sun set and hoped ze would come back again. Xe watched the other people until the sun went down. Xe lay in the grass, waiting for hir. Sure enough, ze lay down next to xyr. Xe turned to talk to hir, when hir finger pressed against xyr lips. Xe understood and they looked back up at the stars. Xe expected hir to be gone when the sun rose, and xe was right. Xe watched the same people do the same thing each day, and xe watched the stars with hir each night, and xe wouldn't have it any other way.
Xe had so many questions for hir, but xe knew they would go unanswered. One year had passed by and xe could recount each 365 nights xe spent staring at the stars with hir. Xe lay down this night, knowing that xe would ask one question. Xe wasn't sure if xyr vocal cords could even produce sound after a year without speaking at all, but xe knew that xe was going to try xyr hardest to get the message across. Xe stared at the sky waiting, until the sun rose. Xe sat up and stared in the distance as the children ran past, and the elderly couple walked around. Xe continued on like this for one month, when the sun set that nigh xe whispered “where are you?”. After no response, xe repeated that over and over again, getting louder each time. Xe cried out one last time before laying down and falling asleep.
Xe woke up in a hospital bed hooked up to a machine. The nurse said something to xyr, but xe did not really hear it. The nurse scurried out of the room and a doctor came in a few minutes later. Xe tried to pay attention to what the doctor had to say, but xe couldn't stop thinking about hir. All xe could string together from what the doctor said was that there was an accident and xe had been in a coma. Now xe was certain xe would never see hir again. Xe glanced around the hospital room and asked when xe could leave. The doctor informed xyr that xe would be out in a few days, and xe didn't mind, xe could never have hir anyways.
Xe was not phased by anything when xe left the hospital. Xe lay in bed and stared at the ceiling picturing the stars over head when xe got home. Occasionally xe would close xyr eyes and pretend to be with hir again, watching the stars. Xe could sense hir presence, but xe knew that ze wasn't there. Xe wandered around xyr apartment and flipped through some of the newspapers. Xe turned the page to the obituaries and saw hir face, and xe remembered the crash. Hir face was the last thing xe saw before xe went to that hill, and xe figured that xe was the last thing ze saw before ze slipped away.

(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos
I was walking home with one of my friends the other night, debating whether or not wearing a hat in winter will keep you warm. He was saying that it was the only way to actually keep warm, and I was saying that you can stay warm without a hat. He said "Stereotypically, girls need to be right." So I asked him what made him say that "You always want to be right, just like the other girls." I asked him how wanting to be right was different from any other human being, were men somehow excluded from wanting to be right? He said "I don't know, it's just usually girls want to be right." I asked him how I was anything like a stereotypical girl. I've never truly acted like a girl, and I don't want to be defined by a x or y chromosome (or lack of). He did not know the difference between sex and gender. I started to explain that sex is what you are born into, and gender is what you feel like. He asked if giraffe could be your gender, if his gender could be stone because that's what he "feels like". I started explaining to him that gender is not interchangeable with species, and that one can be stone-butch, or stone-femme but if he is referring to the polished rock, then no, gender is not interchangeable with well..whatever you categorize stone as. I explained that one can be genderqueer, essentially above all genders. He refused to believe me, and asked me how I knew this. I said that I look up things that I'm interested in, and things that I feel I relate with. I also told him (in sad hopes that he would take the hint) that everyone should learn these things to avoid narrowmindedness. He decided that it was the opportune time to ask if I knew these things because I am one of those people. I said that my gender (or lack their-of) had nothing to do with it. So he asked if I thought I was narrow-minded. I lied and said that I really just wanted to expand my mind ever so slightly. I wish I had made some success in showing the world that people like me, the people that don't quite fit into a nice little box on the paper, that no matter what someone views you as, it just doesn't fit, that we really we really exist.

I really wish I could have told him.

(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos
I want to get closer to you, but I'm afraid it will just push you away more.

(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos


I miss the way it feels to not have to worry about people wanting to call you, because they know you'll never call them back.
I miss the way the small blades feel etching their way through the skin, the relief that came after it.
I miss the way that the panic created such emotion, it felt so exhilarating after going through the motions.
I miss the way she acted, it was the only thing really worth living for anymore.
I miss the way staring at the feeling and not thinking anything made time pass by, it made things more bearable.
I miss the way she talked and the way she would look into your soul, finding the answers so you didn't have to.
I miss the way nearly sleepless nights and very early mornings felt, it meant an excuse to feel so dead inside.
I miss the way nobody noticed the scratches, because now that they know, it makes it hard to start up again.
I miss the way fighting felt, because it really channels energy and emotion.
I miss the way the gym floor felt, a C- has never been easier to achieve.
I miss the way bulimia felt, the burning throat was worth it.
I miss the way anorexia felt, mom should really go back to working longer hours.
I miss the way non-existent hunger felt, food never went wasted, because not much of it was needed.
I miss the way it felt to come home every day swearing it was your last, it always made the next morning a regret.
I miss the way lying to a professional felt, because they can't call your bluff.

I like that time is moving as fast as I want it too, but sometimes I really miss the way it was last year.


(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos

Just thought I'd give anyone who reads this a little taste of what story I'm working on at the moment:

"Passing her by on the sidewalk I moved as far to the edge of it as possible because she was holding a "God Hates Fags" sign, she moved as far to the edge of her side because I'm an obvious queer. Something was different about her though, she didn't have the same look in her eyes as the others did. She looked almost frightened, like she was holding back, like she was one of us."

I know, not much, but if I gave you more it would give it all away. Let me know what'cha think. Also, if you are so inclined to read my fanfiction: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1797819/shell_of_a_human


(no subject)
hyperboleandahalf sociallyawkward alone
los_desbos

"I'm sorry that you're struggling with the body God gave you." I don't think I've hated someone bringing God into gender dysphoria more.

"You can't change who you are, and you certainly can't change at sixteen." I don't think I've hated her more.

"You've got to buy a bra, or at least one of those tanks that holds you in." I don't think I've hated being born with breasts more.

"Is this why you're getting fatter and not sticking to your diet, are you trying to be more of a block shape?" I don't think I've hated her judging my weight more.

"I've heard of some girls doing that." I don't think I've hated the improper use of gender regarding transsexuals more.

Why is it mothers who say the things that hurt us most?


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