Log Entry #120

Log entry #120

"I looked in the mirror this morning during a brief period of mental control. I tried to complete what was previously my normal hygiene routine. It startled me badly, the thing in the mirror. The computer says I haven't changed externally, but it's so obvious to me. I look so... so human? So male. Like, I have a male face but it should be something else, something different. Like I can't shake the idea, the certainty, that I am… that my reflection should be a… uhhhhhhgn my head hurts so bad. Bees buzzing in my brain. Violet crinkles in my foremind, my face is itching and feels wrong."

The headache has been there since the moment I woke up. Standing in front of the mirror only made it worse. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection on the computer screen—disheveled hair, scruffy face, and eyes red from sleep deprivation. I can't stop fidgeting, my hands constantly moving, trying to find some relief from the discomfort.

"It's like my own reflection is betraying me. Every time I look, it feels more and more wrong. The computer might say there's no change, but I can feel it. Something's different. Something's wrong."

I lean back, feeling the headache intensify, the sensation of bees buzzing in my brain growing stronger. "I need to figure this out before I lose my mind completely."

I continue my entry.

"While looking at myself, in a flash, my mind saw something. My reflection was proper, just for a moment.” I paused while I recalled the moment.

“In the mirror… this is absurd, I know, but I wasn't a man standing and examining my face, instead I was a woman's plump, round behind being grabbed with one hand per cheek spreading to show off her pussy. She let me see how I look to her. A moist, perfect, dripping pussy, so very eager to accept. Above it, I had a pink, cute, tight asshole that winked and clenched as I moved my nostrils. All of me was sandwiched between those huge soft cheeks crowning her long, feminine, oh so seductive legs.

"I couldn't and still can't process that experience. It was over so fast, and I immediately felt depressed when the man in the mirror came back. I can't explain the sensation. My brain is screaming for relief in a way that can't be vocalized. This thing growing inside me is rewiring my mind and altering my personality into a fundamentally alien state. The 'I' is gone; now it's only 'her.' When I think of myself, look at myself, or even try to form a mental image of myself, all I get back is her. I'm fighting against a relentless current, trying not to let go and release the words I know will end my life as a man but bring instant release to this suffering. I want to sink into the idea of her, but then what will remain of me? Is there a me left?”

"It won't stop.” I put my head in my hands, my vision begins to blur slightly from the tears. I wipe it away and look back at the computer.

"I feel it coming. The ticking second hand on some… biological clock counting down the last moments before this huge impending moment. I feel wound up, waiting for that gunshot, whip crack, blast off, spark that lights my ego annihilation-fuse and sends me rocketing into pussyhood. Cunt-dumb.”

“Put in my proper place like that!” I snap my fingers before the camera.

"I feel it. I know all I need to do is say those words to her,” I shutter. “I only have to scream them out loud with all my heart,” I raise my hands to the screen.

“Put these hands to the floor, and…” I mime pushing down.

“Flip.” I shutter again. Harder this time.

“The other me is teasing this thought constantly now. She whispers it to me.” I lean in close to the screen.

"Flip.” She calls out to me all day.

"Handstand.” She whispers in my ear while I sleep.

"LET ME OUT!” She roars in my mind relentlessly.

“Just shout out these delicious, joyous, freeing words.” I pause on the edge of giving in with my mouth hanging open, then I close it tightly.

I scream them in my mind. I WANT TO BE A CUNT! I AM HER PUSSY! LET ME HANDSTAND! But thinking it isn’t enough because she wants me to say it.

"My arms and legs ache. My ball sack feels strange like it's empty. I am so horny yet my penis won’t respond anymore. The mass of thinking meat in my guts feels like it's about to slip out of me through my groin and I am so, so dizzy. Like I'm being held upside down and dangling at the edge of a precipice, egged on by a crowd of one shouting 'jump.' My will to resist the instinct to 'flip' is just a tiny lifeline thread about to snap. One wrong step will drop me to my hands and toss my legs in the air as if gravity inverted.”

"Holy shit… I want to handstand.” I say with a sigh of exacerbation.

“It's indescribable. I want to flip over and be her… her… why is this taking so long to finish."

I pause, feeling a wave of dizziness and anxiety wash over me. The internal struggle is tearing me apart, and I don't know how much longer I can hold on. "Signing off."

With a trembling hand, I turn off the computer, my mind still racing with the relentless urges and the fear of losing myself.