Obituary for a Bygone Self

 My voice was taken away from me, and then my face, and my body and sexuality as well. The person I had always hoped to be is gone, forever, and there is nothing I can do to bring her back. My life is post-apocalyptic; my entire world ended 14 years ago now. I am forever in a state of living death. I can never look in the mirror and see me; I can never have sex as me; I can never receive a kiss on my own face, or a cuddle against my own body. No relationship I ever have, platonic or romantic, will ever truly feel real to me. I will never know what it is like to exist in my true body -- something that 99% of people get to experience by virtue of how they were born. I am dead. I am not just dead; I was murdered. May I rest in peace, and may the society that murdered me be punished so severely that it dies along with me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Class Hatred in the Trans Community

Image
  Class Hatred in the Trans Community   As the crisis of capitalism escalates ever further, things get worse: the quality of manufacturing and services, imperialist war and genocide, the price of food, the surveillance state, our behaviour towards one another. An idealist might say that it is foolish, perhaps even offensive, to compare these things – but a materialist sees all of these things as connected. Everything is getting worse; it is because of the exploitation of the proletariat by the bourgeoisie, and it is getting very difficult for the average person to ignore that. I’ve been consciously trans for around 13 years, and during that time I have seen an evolution in the way trans people talk to one another. The trans community, online and offline, has undoubtedly changed – the words we use, the places we go (cyber or real), the meaning of ‘trans’. These past couple years, I have noticed two things. First, I have noticed an explosion in a kind of language people call ‘/...
Read more

Is There A Future for Dysphoric Trans Women?

Image
For several years now, I have suffered periods of total hopelessness. I often lose weeks at a time to this feeling that my life can never get better. Hopelessness has become my default state of being; but, in those sublime few days in a given month where I can move through the world without being brought to tears, I am able to see a future where I am liberated. The hopelessness does not come from nowhere. I am a trans person. What is a trans person, or transgender, person? Dictionary definitions point to transgender being a feeling: “ transgender :  of, relating to, or being a person whose gender identity differs from the sex the person was identified as having at birth “ gender identity  :  a person's internal sense of being male, female, some combination of male and female, or neither male nor female” (Merriam-Webster) Perhaps  transgender , then, must refer to a variety of feelings. A trans person could be someone who was born with a penis, but wishes to be...
Read more

Clarification: Action & Morality

Image
  I can see that my 'Class Hatred' essay has been receiving some attention. I am heartened by the largely positive response to my work on xitter, and I feel encouraged to keep writing. I write mostly for myself; as I have stated previously, I am passively suicidal. Death hangs over me at all times, and I sometimes wonder if I will be strong enough to keep on living. Leaving my work up on here (and on physical paper) strengthens my sense of embodiment, which is something that male puberty has largely deprived me of. Writing makes my existence feel less ephemeral. Even if I don't make it, I know that I won't be forgotten. Seeing the reactions on xitter, I wanted to clarify specifically what I think people ought to take away from my essay. I went to great lengths to make my writing airtight, addressing every possible counter-argument to make uncharitable rebuttals difficult. The fact that I have not received any criticism founded on close reading (i.e. direct quotation of ...
Read more