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THE WORMS GO ALL THE WAY


CHAPTER ONE

A man stands on the pitcher’s mound. His deep skin glints with sweat under the
unrelenting sun. He adjusts his hat, twiddles his fingers, and rubs the smooth
baseball in his left hand against his jersey three times. Across the field, the
catcher imperceptibly nods. He takes his stance, and the batter readies his. The
bases are loaded, bottom of the ninth, and one hit could end the game in tears.
He rears back, his body becomes liquid muscle, every tendon working in tandem,
his planted feet up to the coiled spring of his legs, his boiling core powering
the machines of his arms, time stretched to the very limit of it’s boundaries as
his body naturally follows through, hurling the ball in a slider curve going
just shy of 80 miles per hour, and the batter, desperate to connect and swinging
as hard he can… misses. The ball drops at the last second, into the bottom right
hand corner of the strike zone and just shy of the batter’s swing, into the
waiting catcher’s mitt.

The stadium explodes as that sinks in. This strikeout was the last of the game.
For the first time in living memory, the Wausau Worms of Wisconsin were going to
the Major League, replacing the Milwaukee Bison after their less-than-impressive
attempt this year.

Continue reading “The Worms go all the way”
Author FinnPosted on 24 March 20241 November 2024Categories prose, The Worms


V

New meaning given
to a life I’ve left behind,
Femininity paralleled
in the form I once called mine.
Never did it seem to me
to hold beauty, grace, and charm,
but that, my dear, is why
I can bear witness without harm.
I’m proud of who I am,
standing trusted, tall and true,
but the reflection that I see
paints perfect pictures
when on you.

Author FinnPosted on 23 February 20241 November 2024Categories poetry


LEAVING IT ALL BEHIND

I look down at the card in my hand, checking the address despite having it
memorised for weeks now. Up at the seemingly abandoned warehouse that the map on
my phone had led me to. The industrial park I’m standing in looks as deserted
and run-down as the warehouse does and it sends a shiver of primal fear down my
spine. Am I really here? Am I really doing this? 

My entire life has been defined by the desire to run that flows through my
veins, moving out and away from everyone I’ve ever known at eighteen years old,
starting fresh in new towns every couple of years when the restlessness grows
too strong, when too many people know my name, when people start asking
pointless questions of where I’m from. I can’t help this urge within me, but
I’ve finally identified it as a need to be someone else entirely. Once I figured
that out and started researching, the rest fell into my lap with suspicious
ease. 

Meeting up with ‘John Smith’, a name so generic it was clearly fake, being
subjected to the weirdest and most vague interview of my entire life, only for
him to leave with no contact details but a blank card with only an address- this
address -printed on it. It all felt so surreal. The idea that I could leave my
life behind without dying. It intrigued me enough to lead me here. So now, on
the precipice of getting everything I feel that I’ve ever wanted, I hesitate.
Once I step inside that building, there’s no turning back. I’ll be wiped off the
face of the earth, nothing but a memory in the lives of every person I’ve met.
Finally, truly free.

Continue reading “Leaving it all behind”
Author FinnPosted on 25 February 20231 November 2024Categories proseTags
psychological horror


FOURTH

My love is long gone
Never to return
I know that they’re out there
but it’s not my bridge to burn

I wish that things were different
Who doesn’t hold regrets?
I hold mistakes too dearly
They sprout and root in my chest
Splitting cracks in my foundation
Filling heart and head and breast

I miss you like September
It’s meaningless and bleak
Yet tightly I still hold on
I can never seem to speak
the hurt that sticks inside me
My resolve is quick to creak
and crumble and
break

Author FinnPosted on 23 November 20223 November 2024Categories poetry


POEM 5

Swim back to the surface
young man, you aren’t allowed to drown
Your work here isn’t finished yet
Your head, it bears no crown
Fear festers deep inside of you
In blood, in bones, in teeth
But it’s grip on you is not complete
Despite the fact it brings you grief

Author FinnPosted on 23 November 20221 November 2024Categories poetry


PRIDE?

We’re coming to the end of pride month once again. Corporate twitters will go
back to their boring profile pictures, pride themed events will (mostly) come to
an end, pride themed items won’t be restocked, but that doesn’t mean that pride
is really over. After all, having pride in yourself should be a year-round
commitment. Living through the bad times to see the good is a worthy cause to
celebrate, and I, for one, am proud of myself. For surviving the hard times and
for lifting up other trans people to the best of my ability, I am proud. Every
trans person should be proud and we deserve to celebrate who we are unashamedly.

I love pride month. Typically, there’s a lot of lovely summer days (it being
June and all), I feel more comfortable with being visibly queer, and I have an
excuse to celebrate my queerness openly with the people I love. Of course, there
are hardships too, especially now with the growing vitriol from mainstream media
and the government, but that doesn’t mean that we should lose hope. Statistics1
still show that anti-trans viewpoints – namely “gender critical” ideology – are
not the mainstream and that the people who hold these views are a minority. The
problem is simply that they are loud and often difficult to ignore because they
apparently believe that the non-stop harassment of trans people will make us go
away (spoiler alert: it won’t). Transgender people will never go away, we have
always existed and we always will, if they won’t accept that then that is
entirely their problem. I refuse to apologise for loving myself and loving being
myself wholeheartedly.

Continue reading “pride?”
Author FinnPosted on 30 June 20211 November 2024Categories personal essays


ANTS

Whispers eat away at me
Numerous, like ants, but
Benign
I can ignore them for a while
But problems always surface
Over time

Tiny tunnels in my mind
And cracks I cannot heal
Burrowing bugs and worms that squirm
In search of their next meal

Whispers live inside of me
Numerous, like ants, and
Alive
I can’t ignore them anymore
They move, are monsterous
Are mine

Thick sludge floods capilleries
Patches cracks with bile
The whispers are a part of me
Together, one nest, one mind

Author FinnPosted on 21 April 20211 November 2024Categories poetry


ONLINE SELF-CARE

I’ll be honest with you. Your trans friends are tired. I’m exhausted. After
months of seeing you-know-who pop up on our timelines or some hashtag about them
trending I’m sick of it. Now to know that it has all led up to a transphobic,
poorly written novel which was in production- or at the very least was pitched
-while her publishers represented trans writers, it all seems like an elaborate
hit piece on an entire group of marginalised people. So I’m sick of hearing
about her or anyone who supports her and I know that I’m not the only one. Do us
a favour and stop tweeting about her or sending your trans friends articles
about how shitty she is (trust me, we know). Instead start boosting trans
creatives. I have been seeing more of this type of thing trending, which is
heartwarming, so I’m mostly reiterating the point in my own medium. The sheer
frequency of this is what brings me to my topic, which is the importance of
cultivating your own online experience.

This essay is primarily aimed at other trans people, but I hope that I can offer
useful advice to anyone else who may be reading too. For starters, I love the
internet, and I have done for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid I
played endless flash games. As I grew up I discovered fanfiction (I refuse to be
embarrassed because it led me to my current aspirations). I have made countless
friends over the years, some I no longer talk to, some I do even after ten long
years. It is a seemingly bottomless pit of information and knowledge and I think
that on the whole it really is an incredible thing. Without it I may not have
even discovered who I really am. I didn’t know what “transgender” really meant
until I learned about it online, and it was a blessing that I did. I finally had
a word to describe how I was feeling, and unless you’ve felt it you have no idea
what that was like. Now, however, with the ever growing focus on social media
(or maybe because I feel like I’ve aged ten years with each birthday), it
doesn’t feel the same. 

Continue reading “online self-care”
Author FinnPosted on 22 September 20201 November 2024Categories personal essays


PERSONAL HISTORY

One of my brothers asked me to cover this next topic, and it’s something that I
think about frequently. I came out as trans later in life; I chose my name when
I was sixteen and started transitioning medically at twenty two. I have a lot of
trans friends who also came out/started transitioning later in life, and the
questions posed to me were: how do we talk about them from before they began
transitioning? How do I refer to myself from before my transition? What’s the
most respectful way to approach this? Obviously I am writing this from my own
perspective first and foremost, but I will do my best to be as concise as
possible. I will also be writing this essay in two parts. The first part will be
advice for cis people on how to be respectful towards trans people and their
personal histories, while the second part will be more discussion based and
aimed towards other trans people. I felt that this approach would have the most
cohesive result for the points I will try to make.

I want to talk about my own experiences first. As stated above, I initially came
out at sixteen, and the one word that best sums up this period of my life is
“confusing”. It was during this time that I began to experiment with my own idea
of gender, and also when I first started to ask my close friends and family to
call me “Finn”. It took a long time for me to reach a stage where I was
comfortable with myself, but one of the biggest influences on that comfort was
the acceptance of my friends and family. One of my brothers stopped using my
deadname entirely, my cis friends would regularly check in and confirm they were
using the pronouns that made me feel the most comfortable, things like that.
Their initial support in these formative years of my life gave me more comfort
and joy than I think they will ever realise, and I’m ever grateful for them.

Continue reading “personal history”
Author FinnPosted on 22 July 20201 November 2024Categories personal essays1
Comment on personal history


EMOTIONAL LABOUR

An introduction is a good place to start. My name is Finn, I’m trans masculine
and the majority of the time I am a man. Recently I went into hospital with
pancreatitis and experienced the worst pain of my life. In the subsequent days
of recovery, I got to thinking. I was thinking about my experiences as a trans
man in needing medical care, being a trans man in general, eventually trailing
towards the overarching “what does it all mean” that I assume everyone comes to.
I was thinking so much and I thought, “why not start writing it down?” Surely, I
am not alone in these thoughts, and if I can open a conversation with other
people about my experiences, that’s a good thing.

I’d like to talk about emotional labour as a trans person, especially when
interacting online. I have made the unfortunate decision to have a presence on
Twitter, which can be a hub for vitriol, especially towards the marginalised.
Usually, I tailor my experience to one that suits me. I follow friends,
musicians, actors, like we all do. I also follow a large amount of trans-related
charities, activists and voices in the community, and the majority of what I see
is trans-positive. I just have the bad habit of going into a trans-inclusive
tweet and scrolling down to read the comments. This doesn’t tend to go anywhere,
as I simply don’t want to expend the emotional labour that would be required to
even acknowledge transphobes, but I wouldn’t be writing an essay about emotional
labour if I hadn’t done something. On a trans-inclusive tweet about cervical
healthcare, someone had simply commented “Women” in response to “everyone with a
cervix”. I, rather foolishly, decided to engage and state the facts, that I am a
man with a cervix.

Continue reading “emotional labour”
Author FinnPosted on 14 July 20201 November 2024Categories personal essays4
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