“There they go,“ I muttered to no one in particular, “baggy fucking t-shirts, formless trackies and bloody horrible dirty trainers. It’s disgusting.”I could almost cry.The school run and its procession of drab figures slouch pass my ground floor window twice a day, each time it’s like a stab to the heart. The little ones are running and laughing, playing tag, shouting to unseen friends or generally enthralled at another bright sunny day.Their parents? Slagging off such-and-such to another likeminded fashion conscious – not – acquaintance or glued to their phones inspecting the latest gossip bollocks from so-called friends.Fuck it, I am crying.For you see I had the great misfortune to be born male. At my age, there was little chance that in my pre-teen years my parents, let alone the medical fraternity, would have given me the chance to REALLY be the person I know I am inside. In these more enlightened days, parents are condemned by bigoted idiots when they recognise their little offspring are not quite as English society dictates.They can confidently take the incredibly brave decision to let little Jonny or Katy grow-up with all the love, understanding and help they can muster to be the person that nature has cruelly denied. It’s not that tricky to recognise your child doesn’t fit the mould, it really isn’t, but so many turn a blind eye thinking they will “grow out of it” or even worse look for a ‘cure’. The result? A life of tragedy. Plain and simple.We have all seen the programmes on the TV. I’m sure you have from time to time? You know the ones, where the production company has chosen to single out a kid that has been bursa escort allowed to explore their feelings despite being born with meat and two veg between their legs? And I must apologise straight away, my rants are purely from my perspective and the pain is just too deep.Yes, I can appreciate why someone born a genetic female knows in their heart they are meant to be male, I have to as that would make me as bad as the bloody red necks who throw their cider cans at the telly. I’m truly sorry. I don’t wish to offend. But I’m bitter. And in terrible pain.Not physical, although my damn joints are seizing up from too many years of neglect and a preference for strawberry trifle. Its mentally, probably the worst type of pain as there is no escape, 24/7/365 you exist in a state of perpetual limbo. Why? Because I’m stupid. And a coward.I live alone, which you can probably guess.I steal my eyes back to the parade. How dare you! I silently scream at the shapeless zombies outside; you can’t even see your kid balancing down the kerb with his out-stretched arms! They drive too fast down here for god’s sake. Look, please! I even bang on the window, but of course, when they glance in my direction with predictable uncomprehending stares, they simply return to their iPhone screens just as quickly – my nets securely protecting my modesty.A tear escapes and drops to the new carpet, joining so many of its brethren.I live in perpetual twilight you see. Not daring to expose my rooms to the beautiful day outside for fear of ridicule and the pitchforks again. Oh, the housing association had been SO understanding the last two times, bursa escort bayan but they have made it pretty clear that I will not be allowed to move again unless I can manage to sort out an exchange. Fat chance. I was plonked on one of the worst estates in the area, I had to vacate the last place overnight and this was all there was available. Who the hell would willingly swap to come here?This time I had to be moved to the other side of the city as my so-called neighbours had been that bad. And it wasn’t my fault! The nosy bitch next door had used the DHL parcel as an excuse to knock and barring a reply at the front had just let herself in through the back door. Like a fool, I had popped the cat out and forgot to lock it after. We hadn’t heard a thing. Well you don’t expect the local headcase to suddenly appear in your bedroom doorway, do you?“What the FUCK!” was the first words I’d heard.And despite the badly scripted porn films on xHamster, it didn’t turn out that well. I was enjoying some special time you see with my occasional-friend, her cock embedded in my mouth, clearly enjoying the attention I was giving going by her delighted moans. Stockinged legs, balanced over my shoulders, were rubbing my cheeks deliciously as I sucked the life out of her rod while pumping her tight pussy; the whimpers, unfortunately, serving to mask the not too quiet entry of the wicked-witch-of-the-west.Meanwhile, my free hand was alternating between frantically rubbing my own lace encased member or stroking my sexy fishnets. It actually transpired that she had been standing there for 14.38 mins (when I had nervously escort bursa checked the vid later) rubbing herself through stained Adidas trackies and pulling faces that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I must have hit the right keys going by the drool but that was until she was joined by her cohort and quickly realised, via the two remaining rattling brain cells in her skull, that her rep was in serious jeopardy.They both had plenty to say.“What the bloody fuck!”“Fuck!”“Shit, you dirty pervs!”“Fucking pervs!”“Disgusting fat pigs!”“Fucking-bum-bandits!”“I love the colour of those knickers!” but that may have just slipped out.Poor Sally. She is a lovely girl but a little highly strung. Her cum hit the back of my mouth before I’d had an inkling she was close, making me cough violently and fall sideways. In the process, she’d toppled over backwards landing in a cramped heap on the wall side of the bed, displaying her beautiful suspender outlined posterior to the startled onlookers. If that wasn’t bad enough, the butt plug that had miraculously stayed in place, decided at that very moment to break free and shoot across the room, bouncing off the lead torch bearer’s ample chest.Then the shit really got crazy.Sally and I laugh about it now, well I think she does, I was blocked and deleted that night so it’s hard to tell. Damm shame really as her sissy-gasms were a delight to behold! Oh well. Her replacement can apparently do amazing things with a hairbrush so it’s all good.And there goes the last of them, knuckles dragging along the ground as her junior school daughter screams obscenities at a passing teacher. Nice. And these guys are going to be entrusted to pay for my pension? They can barely count for god’s sake. I turn away from the window, my twice-daily justification for the world’s plight dispersing to stained-magnolia terraced flats and overgrown semis.