First day of pride, and I've been thinking about gender and how weird it is.

If asked, I would probably say I'm non-binary. I actively choose to identitfy as it, I find comfort in the community that collects itself under this label, and really if I'm not then that means I should probably remove the flag patch I have on my jacket. But if I were to answer this hypothetical question with the answer of I'm non-binary I'd feel awkward, like I'd be telling some sort of lie by omission. The definition of non-binary most often given is neither a man or a woman, and maybe it's a problem of a complex identity being boiled down to a short, simple definition, I nonetheless never felt like that fit me. I mainly feel like both and also neither of them. So non-binary never feels like it has enough nuance for my experience with gender.

So maybe if asked I'd instead say I'm butch. Butch captures more of the specifics of the relationship between being a man and being a woman. Butch to me means I'm a woman, and my womanhood is implict with the declaration of butch identity, but does not completely negate the connection to manhood. Because while I do feel like both a man and a woman, womanhood will always feel more like home to me. Unfortunately, if part of gender labelling is to make yourself understood, I often feel like butch falls short. Many people see butch as solely a style of dress. I'm not just a woman who dresses in a traditionally masculine way. I present butch, because nothing makes me feel more like a woman that when I look in the mirror and see a man. If womanhood is my home, masculinity is the key.

I don't really have a point with all this, except what I said about how gender is weird. I just think my gender is this beautiful painting, masculinity and femininity blending and swirling around each other. And while even if no one else ever sees the painting, I think the value of the LGBTQ+ community is to be able to share these hard to describe feelings, and to revel a bit in the vastness of human emotion. June 1, 2022

You know how people talk about hear a song at the perfect time to resonate with them? That's how I feel about The Mountain Goats, except about 4 years too late. And I find myself constantly wishing I had heard them sooner. Not because I think their music would of fixed me or whatever, but because at least my mental breakdowns could of had a better soundtrack.

I know I'm speaking gibberish it's just that I don't know how to arrange my thoughts into words. And it's like all my words get mixed before being spat out. I try to decode what I just said so I can try again, but I can't. Because it's all just gibberish.

• My grandfather's bible on the table by the door (he keeps things he needs to remember to give to people in the front cover)
• The pile of cat toys at the foot of the stairs
• My older sibling saying maybe I'll order something different this time, but probably notwhenever we go to a place frequently
• Mom putting gas in the car whenever we give her a ride, even though she doesn't have to

Statistically speaking, someone out there has lived my exact life before. In addition, for it to be my exact life we can’t count people who lived in times past. The times we live in affect who we are. So for it to be my exact life someone has to be out there, living it currently. Statistically speaking, someone is. Except not really, because a few details will always be different. Isn’t that weird to think about, the fact that you’re so similar to everyone else but also somehow you’ll be different.

First entry! I actually have a sort of essay, sort of a bunch of loosely stringed together ideas, that I'm working on right now. I also have some slideshows I started for a powerpoint night my friends and I sometimes do. I got excited and started a bunch of them before we even had another one scheduled! So I'll be re-writing, finishing, and uploading all of them probably.