... What had started as the smallest part of a diatribe on self-pity became the start of something impossibly large. The idea metamorphosed from being so, so small, to the largest and greatest thing, of all the colors and all the sounds. I had survived -- I had remained, through all, strong enough to live and live by my principles. There was ( Read more... )

... Then, I felt coldest, sitting under that canopy in the Bronx. A woman came down the stairs, hurrying, frustrated -- "Did the last train leave already?" I didn't know, of course. I told her that. Another train might have come, or another might not have; it made no difference to me. I had no money. My cell phone was dead. My bag was between my ( Read more... )

... "Yes!," I screamed. "I do want a fucking prize! I want a fucking medal for having been put through that! I want to rip the ribbon from it and tie my hair back with it -- a whole fucking length of ribbon with RAPE written down the length, because I fucking beat it! I won! He lost! Yes, I do want a fucking prize!" ...

... And every year, winters have boiled down to surviving and begging for spring to come and crying when trees flower and turn green again. Autumns and winters have always been when I took my chances, as circumstances have forced, and the pattern would bear out; a fourth try, a segue into the days when I'll recount my tales with the "six years ago ( Read more... )

... To take my life always in excess and illness; to have too much and then none, and too much again. Oscillation became habit became comfort -- I was no longer living an interim life, but had become that which I'd always warded off as being impermanent. I was a wanderer -- I was a vagrant -- I was a living legend so consumed by her own story, the ( Read more... )

... I was forced to accept the situation. Success in Washington was not possible, then, as I was; I'd squandered the opportunity I was given, and I'd overstayed my charge. The idea of staying, still, frightened me -- in a way that death couldn't. To stay further was to follow a road that led someplace where there were no roads; to a terminus, to an ( Read more... )

... The guest speaker couldn't make it. In the short time I had, I'd mentally prepared a speech. There was a decent number of us, at face value -- it was the specifics that made it shaky. Standing present were the cabinet members of the club, myself, and the student council president. After the lighting, he would take a picture and depart; leaving ( Read more... )

... The 'ritual' had changed only as much as it had stayed the same. Like all things, it took its roots five years ago, but as something very different; it was just a ritual then, an infrequent and decorated indulgence. I was still just a closeted crossdresser with ambitions -- I was surrounded by practical problems, and the 'ritual' solved two of ( Read more... )

... And it shakes me to this day, just for that reason -- I don't know what happened. I don't know what they really did to me, that December day, that drove me into my room for eighteen days; what they did that drove me so far from reality that I forgot school, forgot friends and family, forgot everything and retreated to that dark and incalculable ( Read more... )

... The need to sleep clawed at me; the waking world was pins and needles, hot and cold. It was impossible to think about anything else. It was impossible to be happy, to not grit my teeth, to not be irritable to the point of explosion. After a few days of trying to track her down, Sara texted me -- I sprinted over to Bohn, and she swiped me in and ( Read more... )