* I did not write this by the way, but i thank whoever did for their words*

Homophobia is disgusting and it ruins lives. Many of the things in this post are things i and many othere have gone through and continue to go through every day. Just because you do not see something does not mean it does not happen, this shit happens every day and we must join together to fight it. End homophobia.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

I am the woman who can't walk into a public restroom without being stared at.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the young man who was raped and murdered by two of my friends when they found out i was biologically female.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am the little girl who cries herself to sleep at night, because I am not allowed to wear a dress.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

I am the girl who constantly picks on the 'dyke' in our year, because I don't want my friends to know i'm a lesbian.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the boy who is scared to tell his father that he is bisexual, because he thinks all queers should be shot.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the boy who's parents don't understand why I have to be myself, when i could just pretend to be a girl.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the girl who cries herself to sleep every night, because she know she has to face the world the next day.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn't have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am too scared to tell my friends and family I am transsexual, because I might lose everything I have.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most: love.

So i have been off school for about 5 days now with the flu. I'm vegetarian so i'm particularly partial to them as well. Oh, the price of high morality. Worse event than that i have writers block. Now, if you are a writer yourself you will understand this is probably about the most annoying thing that possibly happen, except for maybe the complete destruction of the earth, and actaully in that case at least you wouldn't have anything to worry about again because you'd be dead, but i digress.

On the positive side i have found a fellow musician who i appear to be compatable with. His name is Jean Luc and he is the resident goth around school, a position that used to be filled by me, but i couldn't bother with all the make up. Besides he's better at it, i'm more of an anarchist punk myself. Anyway, he is a brillaint guitarist, much better than me at least and he can sing as well. We've also recruited my friend Sophie to play drums, and Jean Luc knows someone with a load of music equipment we could use, only downside is he is a homophobe. So long as no one lets on their queer we should not really have a probem however. Also found out i'm not the only openly queer person at school, Jean Luc self identifies as bi - curious, and he also has another friend that is bi and fairly open. I knew i wasn;t the only gay in the school, contrary to popular opinion. I know one person who is a closested bisexual, but he would never say anything about it. It does seem i'm the only queer girl in the school, however. Which is just peachy keen, makes me feel nice and special......not. It makes me feel isolated and like more of a social pariah than usual, but oh well, i'm used to it.

Recently,I have developed a new obsession for Avenue Q. Its this brillaint musical parody of sesame street, except instead of dealing with childhood problems, this one focuses on real issues adults face, while manging to be absoloutly hilarious. It has everything one could wish for in a play, songs, humour and a fair amount of cynicism. It also has a parady of Bert and Ernie called Rod and Nicky. Rod is an uptight closet gay who is in love with his slacker roomate Nicky. This is obviously a homage to the Bert and Ernie are gay rumours in the American media, no doubt a sad attempt by the christian right to shut down sesame street because it preaches a litle thing called tolerance which runs contrary to christian doctrine. I found the whole concept hilarious myself. They also have a a parody of the cookie monster called trecky monster who looks at porn on the internet all day long. Theatre really does not get any better than this.

Anyway, its time for me to go back to contemplating my misery and avoiding coursework. At least untill i come up with some new misery to coamplain about or some new quirky obsession to rave about.

My last journal was a bit of a downer, as usual. Anyway, i'm feeling a bit better now. My Mums home and she is making her presence known by ranting and screaming at every available oportunity.

So, anyone got any plans for TT?

It seems my problems always hit me the hardest on a Monday morning. Its like everything i usually manage to keep bottled up inside of me, just sort of explodes. Suffice to say its far from a pleasant experiance. I spent an hour curled up on my bed in a fetal position if you must know, crying my guts out. I don't usually like metaphors or similes personally, i'm far too logical, but i really do think that one is a good description.It does not just hurt emotionally, its like a real physical pain in my stomach, like this sort of bruise that never goes away.

My parents have just given me the old 'everyone has problems speech'. Classic that. I know other people have problems, in fact i'm often the one everyone talks to about them. I've had this speech from so many people over the years, usually teachers or other adults who have 'my best interests at heart'. The bottom line of it is i should just pull myself together and get on with it. The trouble is people don't seem to realise how often i do just that. Just put on a smile and push everything to one side, try and get on with my day, go through the motions. I have it down to a fine art. I don't think anybody realises how often i am pushing away troubled thoughts or fighting back tears. A lot of the time. I do this untill it builds up and hits me like a ton of bricks, thats another simile i like, usually on a Monday morning.

Why me? Am i not a good enough person or something? There is a few things along those lines that i am just dying to ask the creator or whoever, when i finally get around to dying. I'm sure a lot of people ask this, but i'd really love to know. As a wiccan i generally believe in a system of karma, which is supposed to mean good deeds get repaid in good karma. I'd love to know what happened to mine. I am by no means perfect, but i think i deserve more than i am getting. Being a teenager is always difficult, but with my additional problems it just becomes unbearable. I would give so much just to be a normal teenager.

I both love sleep and i despise it . Sleep is so often the only place i can get peace of mind. Its the only time my mind sort of shuts down. Sometimes though, i think sleep i the time when my brain is most awake. I can't really describe it. Its like when i'm awake my thoughts are all muddled and unclear, always hopping from one thing to another. When i am sleeping, i sometimes have these dreams. I can't remember exactly what they are, but it like my minds trying to tell me something. I know that dreams are how people process and deal with difficult thoughts. I think maybe my mind is trying to tell me something. Another thing i love about dreams is, you see yourself the way you actually are, not as others percieve you.

I dream a lot about mirrors, but the person i see staring back at me is not the one i am used to seeing when i look in the mirror, but more familiar to me. Then i wake up and see my reflection, and its like who is this person? This can't be me, can it? This person stares back at me, I examine the reflection critically, trying to find something familiar. Short brown hair, round face, freckles, of celtic descent probably. Not exactly pretty, but not ugly either. Strange shaped nose, nice lips. 5'6 1/2, slim, broad around the shoulders. Well endowed in the chest area, hidden slightly under baggy clothes. Trousers fit poorly, hips just beginnig to widen and take on an hourglass shape. Calf muscles fairly well toned, enjoys the occasional run, a little extra weight on the thighs and buttocks. I lift my hand up in front of my eyes, small, slim fingers, feminine, musicians hands. Deceptivly strong and nimble from hours of practicing on the guitar. I touch my face, skin soft, peachy fuzz. I raise my eyebrow slightly, a trick i learned as a young child. I open my mouth, 'hello' i say . The voice is high pitched, small, weak. Not the voice i hear in my thoughts. A young woman, adolescant girl, reluctantly growing into a woman. Me, Myself.

A small laugh usually escape my lips at this point. So this is how others see you, is it? Funny to see yourself as others must percieve you, fucking hilarious. I look my reflection in the eye. A hint of recognition there. Grey eyes flecked with yellow, a hazel ring aorund the middle. Framed by thick rimmed black glasses. I take of the glasses, and those eyes are what i recognise. Those eyes never change. Its true what they say, eyes are the pathway to your soul.

I thought again about ending my misery. I wonder what happens when you die. I wish so often i could just sort of dissolve into a million little particles and just sort of become the sky or the wind or the sea. And just kind of exist, a part of this world, but not really a living, tangible thing.

I know however, that i won't commit suicide. Every time i think about, i realise just how much i would hurt everyone, my friends, my family. I'm not just living for others however, i want the chance to show the world what is inside my heart and soul, and make a difference to somebodies life, even if only in the most miniscule and unimportant way. For that reason life is worth living, and i will continue to live, and to fight. I will win against every challenge that comes my way. I will fight and i will win.

I used to think that tears, or in fact any emotion were a sign of weakness. I'd been hurt and rejected, so i shut myself away inside myself. Its what i need to do to survive, i cannot finction in any other way. However, i now know that emotions are not a weakness. They make us human, and only the strongest humans can express emotion openly. Its the hardest thing, for me at least. To open up, even to the people i love, leaves me vulnerable to ridicule and rejection. I am not the strong person i seem to be, things don't just bounce of me, though i put on a great show. Its always felt like there is this invisable wall between me and the rest of the world, and i'm just starting to tear it down, brick by brick. Then maybe i could finally have the strength to be who i truly am and show the people i love more of myself. I know the wall will be there when i need it, to protect me in this world where i am so often hated and on the outside. The trouble is, when you lock your soul away from the world, you can never truly experiance all that life has to offer. I believe that you soul is a living thing, seperate from you body. If you lock you soul away from the light, it will like a plant eventually whither away and die. Then you get to the point were you are not really living, so much as existing. We all have choices, and no matter how painful it may be at times, no matter how many barriers i face, i want to live.

Life exists to screw me over.

My one bank holiday and i have an entire house to clean and pack, and the prospect of being thrown out looming over my families head.

On top of that I could'nt go camping with my friends due to 'bad weather forecast', predicting gale force winds and rain. In the end it did'nt even rain, but by that time we had already cancelled and there was not much we could do.

Oh yeah, my mum also had a mental breakdown, and took it out on me.

My parents marriage is crumbling, adn i am left to paly referee.

Aside form that everthing is just peachy keen.

I am so fucking fed up with taking on everyone elses problems, while getting no support for my own.