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thinkin’ i should i publish “mister perfect” and tweak it a little.. it’s an fantastic work of art, just need some fixing lol. 

a small draft of a new book i’ve been working on:
          
          Waking up in a confused daze, the young man stretches out his limbs. The orange-pinkish hues of the sun peeking through the blinds were creating a beautiful work of art over the entirety of his bedroom. "fuck, man.. how long did I sleep in for?" raising his arms to stretch, the fabric of his chest binder making the movement uncomfortable. Using his nails, he scratched at the spandex and cotton material, snatching at the sides to give his ribcage relief. "yo, I gotta get a larger size.. this shit hurt.." sitting up on the edge of his bed, he sat facing the mirror. Only wearing his chest binder and a pair of red gym shorts. The mirror in his room was mostly covered; he hated looking at his reflection without a shirt on. It was an aching reminder that he hadn't fully transitioned, yet. 
          
          Trent Alexander wasn't your typical teenage boy. He came with layers like an onion, and was sensitive like skin with certain laundry detergents. He was, anything but, a complexity. Often, it left him feeling unidentifiable and lost within himself. The only people he'd come out to were: His parents, Wilford and Becca, and his Best Friend, Christopher. He had accepted himself as trans, at the ripe age of fourteen. He hated development, loathed puberty, and wore baggy clothes everywhere he went. Now, seventeen years of age, and he'd found an online community committed to helping people like him. He'd always struggled with identity. It was an unfair ordeal to his developing brain; unable to understand his discomfort like his soul had chosen the wrong body to inhabit.
          
          thoughts? 

eight years of grief is such a vulnerable moment. that book is solely dedicated to someone i hate mentioning nor thinking of. 
          
          fortunately, by channeling those emotions, i was able to create something meaningful. 

tu es adorable et tu me manques, ma chérie.