Take my breasts...please.
Jun. 14th, 2002 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beandelphikiIt is not possible to wear a [tummy trimmer] binder while trick riding your bike. 'Tis NOT possible.
R-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-p! POP!
I can't find my watch right now, which is just leading me to think about time, and how panicked it makes me to be unable to constantly check how much of my life has drained away since I last looked at the little flashing numerals...
Sometimes I look at the other guys on the school bus with a kind of sick envy. Sometimes I wonder how I will make it to the day I get surgery. But in all honesty, I don't want the surgery; I don't want the pain, or months of careful handling. I don't want to get the chest I know belongs to me, only to be unable to finally enjoy it, restrained and cautious STILL.
I wish they would just disappear, that's what I want. Why can't they just GO AWAY? :(
Sometimes, the only reason I don't take a knife to them myself is because I would bleed to death.
I try to generally be upbeat about things...maybe not here, I guess I use this space to rant a bit. But I won't pretend it doesn't hurt to watch the summer days of my teenage years drain away; and if I keep my luck, my young adulthood, too. Warm summer days, wasted. Wasted, keeping my shirt on. Wasted, outside the swimming pool.
Wasted, while I plan my life to the tiniest detail, robbed of carefree spontaneity. Where are we going? For how long? Can I wear a binder that long? How hot will it be, and what will I have to wear? Will I get sick in those clothes, in that heat? Maybe I shouldn't go. Can you come, Danny? No. I can't.
The best years...going, going, gone.
R-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-p! POP!
I can't find my watch right now, which is just leading me to think about time, and how panicked it makes me to be unable to constantly check how much of my life has drained away since I last looked at the little flashing numerals...
Sometimes I look at the other guys on the school bus with a kind of sick envy. Sometimes I wonder how I will make it to the day I get surgery. But in all honesty, I don't want the surgery; I don't want the pain, or months of careful handling. I don't want to get the chest I know belongs to me, only to be unable to finally enjoy it, restrained and cautious STILL.
I wish they would just disappear, that's what I want. Why can't they just GO AWAY? :(
Sometimes, the only reason I don't take a knife to them myself is because I would bleed to death.
I try to generally be upbeat about things...maybe not here, I guess I use this space to rant a bit. But I won't pretend it doesn't hurt to watch the summer days of my teenage years drain away; and if I keep my luck, my young adulthood, too. Warm summer days, wasted. Wasted, keeping my shirt on. Wasted, outside the swimming pool.
Wasted, while I plan my life to the tiniest detail, robbed of carefree spontaneity. Where are we going? For how long? Can I wear a binder that long? How hot will it be, and what will I have to wear? Will I get sick in those clothes, in that heat? Maybe I shouldn't go. Can you come, Danny? No. I can't.
The best years...going, going, gone.
