I wandered into the room, but there were figures everywhere, on every surface. & so I moved into the outside. Sat on the grass, slept a little. Fell quiet. Saw some figures approaching. Ducked down into the long grass. Moved across the gap, saw some more figures moving towards me, darted into a hollow, heard them saying things about me. Ducked up into the long grass, where I crawled around, joyous, came into the house, saw my arms and legs had been covered with burning rashes. Every winter it returns, and I see a room, and in there is a person who could help me with my skin. I am too afraid to enter. I am afraid so I drop down into the long grass and I rest my head and become less and less afraid, and I begin to sleep a little. The itching begins. First it is blissful. The skin breaks. It stings. It begins to weep. It itches again. It is scratched. Blood. Scabs. Scratch. The satisfaction of detachment. And I am terrified that when I enter the room where the kind figure will help to mend my skin or steer me around to avoid whatever it is gets into it,, I worry I’ll go into that room and come out with some kind of terrible restraint, and my numbers taken, some kind of diagnosis. I walk out into the sunlight. It is warm. I can see my breath. Everything I can feel or tell by my senses is mistaken. Figures crossing ahead of me, so that the door is the terror. So that I slip into the door where the long grass is reflected and fall into a beautiful sleep. In my dreams you sometimes speak to me. Other people who know you say the same thing. You never speak but in our dreams. This is because of a hierarchy of understanding. I found myself reciting in the long grass as I slowly woke. As I slowly woke in the long grass I found my lips were moving and I was speaking. I found myself reciting: Melancholia, Asperger's Syndrome, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Gender Dysphoria, Prader Willi's Syndrome, Dyspraxia, Slovenliness, Heyfever, Autistic Spectrum Disorder, Dyslexia & Dyscalculia, Anorexia. My eyes were very still fixed on the just moving figures in the hazy distance and my lips were moving over and over again Paranoid Schizophrenia and I was wide awake but very calm as I had learned to meditate on the wild abstractions and leaps of fear this mind does to me. I fell back down and rolled over and stared hard at the room and its window, but over the tall swaying grasses my soft mouth, I caressed my long red hair and touched my lips with my lips and a seam from the bottom of my foot to the top of my head began to gently part, releasing a gentle humming silver light, and with a pair of figers I caught the edge of the light and gently tugged, and it came sliding out, and I held it there in my fingers, I held her there, and I saw my body lying in the grass, and I held the silver light in my hands as her mouth parted, as she lay there in the grass her mouth parted, and with a sigh she breathed in, and the silver light passed into her body, and she lay there, perfect and sated. I have Gender Dysphoria.