Delphine, a work in progress @DelphineUnseen@queer.party

Everything I post is written in good faith.

If I'm being snarky or sarcastic, it's toward the powerful and bigoted.

If you think I'm calling you out, it's 99.999% likely that I am not and I just wrote something lame without realizing it.

We don't have to be the same or even particularly similar for me to like you.

I will never try to make you feel guilty for feeling down.

I do wish I could step out of time every once in a while just to catch my breath.

Theoretically sleep serves a similar purpose, but all my cares follow me there.

And then I laugh too because they're right, it's not me at all.

One of my top transition goals is to someday show someone a picture of myself pre-transition, and have them ask, "Who's that guy?" and then when I say it's me, they laugh out loud because they don't believe me.

Since everything is being turned into movies now, why not "Commodore 64: The Movie."

I mean, that's a great name for a movie, right?

You know the saying, "you've made your bed, now you have to sleep in it"?

Does that mean if you don't make your bed you can sleep wherever you like?

Updating my license yesterday following my move, and I've finally reached the point where all my identity docs have my correct name and gender. It was a breeze.

Only problem is, I also had to register my car, for which I'm still paying the loan. Bought the car under my former name. Thus, I had to introduce my name change court order to prove that the car is mine, and suddenly the clerk is referring to me as "he" and then avoiding pronouns at all costs.

All 4 of my siblings stopped speaking to me after I came out to them as transgender. 3 of the 4 also stopped visiting my grandfather when he was diagnosed with dementia. Lovely people, eh?

When I exited the elevator, I knew in my bones that something was wrong. There was a musty smell in the air, the lights were dim, and it appeared that there was a layer of dust on everything.

Then over an intercom, a song began to play, distorted, the speed and pitch fluctuating madly:

"I love you...

You love me...

We're...

A...

Haaap...

py...

fam...

il... ly..."

So, back when I thought I was a cishet dude, I never could have imagined that one day my wife and I would be comparing notes on guys we think are cute. 😂

Imagine being proud of a country.

"Yay, some old (& probably racist) dudes drew some lines on a map, and I made that my identity! Woohoo!"

wtf?

I am a ship of Theseus.

I still have a 4G phone because I don't like paying extra for features I'll never use.

Why would you choose to be easy like Sunday morning when you could choose to be easy like Friday night?

I don't take a ton of selfies, simply because I get upset if I think I look good and then the photo looks like crud. So I have to be in a frame of mind where I know I could absorb seeing a lousy photo before I even take the picture.