HK Blog

Wave of depression overtook my mood while I was stacking chairs in the gym at work. Ace said he'll get me some fries from the Coney, he's a cool dude. I got cold feet again. I didn't talk to her. Inferiority started to overtake my initial upswing. I thought that maybe I would be wasting her time. She does really impressive stuff, higher profile work. She's a titan, and I just don't think I have any business trying to subtly ask out somebody who lives in another state, even if it's drivable. I'd just be wasting her time, that's what the prions are telling me right now. It's not because I don't think I'm interesting, no, it's not that. It's that I'm kind of poor and live with my parents, even though my sis and I are supposed to move out in November. I make $32k, and I'm below budget right now, rationing until payday on Friday. I'm not in a place financially or in my residence where I have any business trying to strike up any...

I have a tendency to be overly saccharine in my entries, a little too wrapped up in my own emotions. But I decided I'm not gonna stop doing that. I love it. I need to update you guys. I am still single, me and Birria Girl aren't a thing. We decided it'd be better to just stick together as friends and not make things complicated. I already mentioned this in an earlier post, I just wanted to clarify. Because I'm a twisted little bitch and I'm indulging too much in my crushes. The sickness is back, Adrielle fans. This time about a mutual, on Instagram... how embarrassing. Not very mature or realistic of me to think like that at all, but fuck, I'm exhausted of being so austere and responsible irl. Had a lot of boundaries that were pushed really hard in the last week and a half and honestly I'm open to anything, literally anything, absolutely anything. If she doesn't like me, that's fine, its whatever. I noticed she stopped liking my posts and stuff when ...

We're just friends. I think it is much better to be friends. We've talked a little, and I can see clearly now. It wouldn't work out, with her. I can't be with someone who doesn't understand my identity. I'm not an enigma, I'm a tin of oysters. I can be friends with someone who doesn't understand everything about me, but I will not give my heart to that disparity. And to understand isn't enough, either. Respect is in order. She's a good friend, and that is all. The impermanence starts to get to me, though. I have a thousand people on my mind, every day. I want so dearly to remember their faces, to never forget. I try to focus on the professional relationships, the familial relationships, platonic relationships. I've got to. You know how painful it is to want somebody, somebody so far outside tommorow. Somebody where I convince myself, I could never. I could never.

Today we're having a fun event for the kids, Zombies on Ice. I got my makeup on for it, I look silly. That's good, I guess. Yesterday I talked to Birria Girl, y'know. She was upset that I didn't tell her that I liked her back until just now. She thought I was still caught up on that one guy... I'm over him. She makes a lot of jokes about not liking bisexual guys, and I kinda laughed along bc I didn't want to ruin the friendship, even though I already told her I was trans. Even my non friendly coworkers know I'm trans. Everyone knows, I'm out of the closet. So what gives, man? What gives? But she was saying she liked me, is the problem. I feel conflicted between knowing that I've gotta have some self respect in not dating someone who isn't willing to support that part of me, and knowing that I might be throwing away a good thing, counting her out on her ability to care and adjust. I just didn't think I'd be involved in anything like this s...

I can't help but feel that something just shifted. Like I rubbed someone the wrong way, somehow. I don't know who... I don't know why... I just know that the unease is back. I abridged my blog by deleting a lot of posts from the past few months. I'm gonna re-upload them at my own risk. All this unkempt and ruggedness, it's not fun. I want it to stop. I want something to be nice for once. I want to be a lovable sort for a day or two. I haven't had any adventures lately. Just chronicles of the day-to-day, the long hairs of father time's beard weaved into anecdotes and stories. And half the time, the stories don't make sense. I don't make sense. Maybe I should resign myself to that station. Maybe I shouldn't try to be pretty anymore. But I'll never stop, because the feeling is too strong... I wasn't ever raised to shut up. I feel no need to fight my nature, today. I won't post this one for a few days, and I'll probably confuse my fol...

Good afternoon. Some more sobered journaling today. Today is the first day of the film club. We're starting the program with something real easy to watch, that everybody will like: Superman. I've designed this program to sort of indoctrinate the youth into being cinephiles, even if I myself would never call myself one. In the mean time, before all of that, I'm watching Fire Walk With Me at work again. Unfortunately I have become one of those people that get really annoying about Lynch. I will try to be brief, with just two sentences: FWWM should be in the national film registry. Unfortunately though, we are currently living under a fascist dictatorship, where good things don't happen. There's nothing to be sad about today. Everything is so lovely. Except... I haven't heard back from Remas in a few days. I pray she is okay. The most uncertain factor of my life right now, without question. I believe it is worth it regardless. Every day I check three things on my p...

Don't ever ask me why I stopped putting creamer in my coffee, I could never give a satisfactory answer. It was like a switch went off one day; I changed up on 'em. What a goofy little thing to be, right? It's entertaining to be that fickle. I got down the concept of the real shaker of the album, it's called Chicken Choice Judy (RIP Infinity Train). There's been enough feats of strength, enough of being sad, right? Only three tracks in a row of tears, so I'm not a real artist, I guess. The formalism in me creeps back like a virus, you could never shake that churchly Blackness out of me. I envy those in my community that don't ever have to make that part of their mindset, their upbringing. It seems almost alien to me, y'know. It's funny given that Dad is the really theological one, but it was him who decided to skip the assembly. It was Mom who needed the ritual, the Westsider in her. In this sense I'm thinking it's real "formalist" o...

😌I forgot to eat breakfast! I'm saving up, baby! I'm saving up! I'm burnin' up, baby! I'm burnin' up! This bra is unfortunately too small. I need small cups for a wheelbarrow chest, you know. Not something to ki about unfortunately. And unfortunately, I am coming into myself again, after I had an opportunity to hang out. It is with a heavy heart I admit that I might be one of those people. I need to hang out with my friends, or I will literally die. It is the most important thing in the fucking world. What they never tell you about Michigan is that everybody is really nonchalant, it sucks for me specifically. It's great when it's like, other people I don't care about, but it sucks when it's my circle. If I can get food in my stomach, I might be able to actually write with diction. This is the opposite of drunk me; if I have nothing in my system, I turn into a Walgreens Pharmacy Drive-Thru attendant. Maintaining my self-worth is something I find ...

I'm writing with exactly one person in mind today. I'm processing some very bitter and wrathful emotions. I want to believe that the things I think in my head are not what defines me, but its hard to be anywhere but inside my head when every single day I am completely isolated. The following is just psychotic Nothings. Whatever. I'm sick and fucking tired of trying to be nonchalant. Fuck it, fuck it! I'm not chic enough for you! I'm not aesthetic! I'm not white enough! Too scary, too aggressive! I'm not what you wished I was, is that it? God I can't fucking stand you. I know your contention. You do believe I'm just a man playing pretend, don't you? The way I write, the way I talk... it's not convincing enough for you? You don't think a real trans woman should be like that. You don't like that I'm alone now. They're not here to soften my presence anymore. You know exactly who I'm talking about. All that abuse, all those t...

Wait... no. I thought about it. Embrace, embrace, embrace. Embracing the knocking in the walls. Embracing everything that makes me bizarre. Embracing what drove them away. I'm doing it scared, I'm doing it scared. Hell yeah, I'm doing it scared. It seems like that pocket got stitched up a little. Im texting everyone . Everyone! We're staying online! Actually, I have no idea. So I wrote that like 10 hours ago. I'm now experiencing a new emotion. I haven't felt like this since I first started Journalism in High School. It's a sort of black comedy of the mind. I'm angry in a way that I can only describe as being so angry that it starts to feel kind of funny. It's accented by a sort of clarity that I'm usually not supposed to have about things and people. It’s uncomfortable to be around and I've been told that it is sometimes downright unsettling, but honestly there is no way to talk about this without sounding like an edge lord weirdo, so I'...

Just a few days ago it felt like nothing good could happen, nothing hopeful could come. Just yesterday I was convinced an age of night was impending. For two years, we have witnessed a holocaust unfold before our very eyes. In understanding the atrocities unfolding on the other side of the world, we came to understand ourselves. In understanding what has happened, we have seen, in real time, the best and the worst of us. In these last two years, every person has revealed who they really are, whether they meant to or not. A new ceasefire is here. Even if just for a moment, there can be relief. There can be love. We must continue to support the families, the citizens of Palestine. We must continue to work towards a free Palestine. The work is not over, but the sky is still blue. The ocean stretches out, and to sit afront of the wake... it is everything and more. We can feel color again. There is nothing in my mind today, I feel so relieved. Remas and Manal got back to me, they're all...

06/09/25 Today is June 9th, 2025. It is my first day of work at this new job. I am completing a cybersecurity online seminar as part of the many modules needed to complete the on-boarding. I have not eaten any food today. I feel sickly and weak. I've felt worried and ashamed throughout the start of this day, and I am afraid this will carry into the rest of my day. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm on my break and I'm looking at the sky. It's always so beautiful outside when I feel like ass. It's a good joke. The more I get acquainted with the gig, the easier it feels. I think I'll be okay. I understand it now. It's not too bad. I just wish I could go higher. Maybe I'm never gonna rise above this. I'd like to think I'll be wrong about that one day. I think my vision is getting blurrier, I can't see as well as I used to. I don't know what the future is gonna look like anymore. I feel so disgusting today. I'm glad I fini...

Today's entry took a shape I wasn't expecting. Might be the heaviest one I've published on this blog so far, so fair warning: This blog post might be stress inducing to read. If this entry reaches you at a bad or uncertain time, by all means, set aside my website for another day. I hope everyone is doing well. I hope we can all be what we need to be today Everything that needs to happen, needs to happen today. So, anyways... Not entirely sure about what I might be becoming, y'know. I don't know if I've ever known myself to be a slut, but I guess it's something I've learned about myself. It seems like my friends still sort of love me anyways, I want to be grateful for that. I've come to understand some things about myself, y'know. If I like someone, I'm a little too eager to spend money on them, really spoil them... but I only make 32k. Not a responsible way to go about romance. I sent the Incubus $70, because some forms of generosity conceal ...