the36thbloggerofshaolin:

What does a girl get out of sucking my dick? What do I get out of eating pussy? It’s all about pleasing the other person and, contrary to popular belief, having your ass gorged upon feels rather splendid.
It’s an erogenous zone. And a good one at that. I’d much rather slurp on a bootyhole than nibble an earlobe.
It’s all about making a woman feel good. If that involves placing my tongue deep in the most sacred of holes, then I’m down from the get go. 

evieeliot:

I’ve been struggling with Trans identity for as long as I can remember.
Fighting against a clinical delusion is hard, and in the end I let it win because I knew facing the truth would lead to me taking my own life.
But I’ve realized that my life isn’t worth the pain my being Trans causes the world.
I’m done being an insult to both real men and women.
I realize some people just weren’t meant to be alive.

At least that’s what I’m afraid of.
It’s also what I’m trying to believe.
Because it’s easier to believe the worst about oneself.
I know I’ll never really believe that I’m a woman.
Not with all the hateful noise, or the indifferent confusion out there in the minds of cis people.
I will never be what I want so badly to be,

Real.

I want everyone to hate me, I want my words twisted by terfs and held up as yet more proof that I’m not real.
I want trans people and queers to hate me because I no longer believe in the fight, because I’m a traitor.
I want killing myself to be an easier choice than it is.
I want to extinguish the child who still wants to live.

Turning away from suicide is so very very hard.
Easier to just push onward until I reach the final goal.
Turning away means turning to face the shame.
The shame I feel for dragging everyone I love though the misery that knowing me brings, shame for being something so revolting as it is to be trans, shame for not being able to carry through on ending myself, shame for how awful I am to my myself, because turning back means perhaps I am worthy of love, and god I find that though unbearable.
Shame for being wrong.

If only
If only
If only

For all the world to hate me such that I knew one thing for sure, that in the moment of ending my own life, I might do one good deed.

Are we not here to learn? With all of the ups and downs and day-to-days things can get overwhelming. To let others dictate your fate or going so far as to ending your journey prematurely are options. But do know this: sharing your story, revealing vulnerabilities, being true to your inner truth or voice is more than most people accomplish in their long, boring, relatively eventless lives.

I’ve learned from you. I hope you continue to want to learn as well. 

I hope

I hope

I hope