My throat has been feeling funny, and I can't tell if it is because I am fighting germs, or if my voice is starting to drop. Its been kinda scratchy and low all day, and I feel like I need to talk more quietly to avoid my voice from cracking.
Its exciting, and perplexing to think about where this ride will end up. Like the surprise in the Crackerjack box, I wonder what gifts that I've been wishing for will be granted through the tip of that 23 gauge. My little brother's voice is really low now, but my dad is a tenor in his chinese community choir. Its partly genetics, and its partly lifestyle, and I've sure as hell smoked loads, and downed many a flask of whiskey in my time.
I feel I may not be able to hide my inner crossdressing queer boy faggotry much longer (physically, anyway - i mean, who am i trying to kid?). The thought of it scares me a little, and I still haven't made sense of how I'm going to explain this to my family and 'straight' job co-workers. Will I still be able to pay my rent once I start doing sex work as a FTM boy? I'm really good at procrastinating about things I don't want to deal with. But like any good procrastinator, I've learned to land on my feet when it matters the most, full force, when things come crashing to the ground.
Waiting for change to come. And I don't fucking mean Obama.