the sun comes up -- I think about you

all I do is think of you

and I hate it so, so, so much.

just know -- 

you drive me crazy, with or without being there.

woman like a man (just like virginia woolf)

when I can't sleep (want to, but can't, will force myself not to) I write.  Go me.

I wonder what it would be like if I had been born a genderless human.  Or more androgynous than I am.  Because no matter what I wake up as, how I see myself in my mind and on paper, when I look in the mirror I see the face of a girl -- heart face and round eyes, blue ice and strange October features on a December baby.  "you are mine" (michaelson 10).   I hate waking up a boy because I feel it in my bones and skin.  I dont' have boy pants, so I wear whatever pants I find and band T-shirts with a high neckline, black with sleeves past the armpits so people don't see the lack of shaving.  I wear jean jackets and sneakers and feel my vocal range become husky and low.  I see girls in the street.  Today I was a person.  I wore a skirt and a band T-shirt.  I felt like a foreigner in my own body.  

I don't know why this is happening to me, but I'll go with it.  who knows?  it might shape me as a person.  every other fucked up thing has, after all.