Mlister's mud bin

Forewarning: I don't know what do with this sandbox. The following is stream of consciousness about dysphoria.

Don't look too closely.

It's funny how it sneaks up on you.

It's like a switch is flipped.

It's off, but it's a different kind of off.

I just want to ride the wave of lesbianess.

Sit here on the beach and let the waves of the ocean of femininity lapse over me.

God what am I :)

I say that with a bit of a bitter tone.

What am I supposed to do other than to be me and love me.

I don't want to speak. I was speaking just moments before (a girl's voice even), but suddenly I'm choked, mute.

I want to hold onto this feeling.

I'm afraid it's already slipping through my fingers. My feminine fingers.

My face is a bit hot.

"I don't want to speak and just have it disappear."

It comes out a quarter whisper.

I still feel my chest.

Maybe I shouldnt dwell on it.

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