Will this do? I omitted some parts and added the very last line, rest were copied directly from the tweets.
What makes you not a man, you ask?
The first and most obvious difference between you and I and the reason you are not a man is that you require synthetic drugs to sustain the simulation that you are a man. Your voice, that facial hair, none of it is naturally induced. I do not need drugs to have a deep voice or facial hair, my body naturally facilitates it. Yours doesn’t. You have no acquaintance with the flood of natural testosterone during puberty, how it affects behaviour, how a male's life is moulded by it. Unlike you, I never needed to amputate breasts because as a man I never developed them. Your body does not produce the sperm cell and will never do so. Your body developed to produce the egg cell and thus you will remain female no matter what.
The common cult retort here is to suggest that I must think an infertile woman is not a woman, that those who cannot produce a sex cell are therefore no longer male or female. This is thick. A male dog doesn’t cease being male when its balls are cut off, likewise a female human doesn’t cease being female because she has her ovaries removed.
Your body developed the apparatus to produce the egg cell. You may have had a hysterectomy and an oophorectomy, but you will not replace that with the apparatus needed to produce sperm cells – the cardinal defining characteristic of a man – a characteristic you do not have. You have a lump of skin affixed to your crotch which was sourced from your arm or thigh. This skin graft is not a penis, it’s a facsimile, a crude construct, a wedge of flesh fastened to your front which ultimately serves to cater only to an aesthetic whim. It is either limp or requires a gizmo tucked under it that you press to inflate. You think this is a penis? It's a strap-on made of excised flesh. You will thus never experience sexual stimulation as a man, never have an erection, and you will never have sex as a man.
Every single cell in your body will testify to the fact you are female, a woman. Your body size, your bone size, your skeleton, your skull, your blood volume, your heart size, your lung size, your physique will never meet that of the average man. At best you will pass as a diminutive male, but even compared to a man of the same weight and same height as you, your body structure will differ in telling ways: your pelvis will remain the shape it is, your gait will be that of a female, your walk often gives it away. Your drug injections will not make up for the blast of testosterone that a male has during those 7-10 years of puberty which crafts his sexual development. Owing to this, there is little you will ever do to truly meet what it means to be a man.
Ultimately your entire ‘identity’ as a man is a simulacrum, a lie which you’ve repeated to yourself and had repeated to you. Stripped of drugs, your body would revert to its natural, albeit altered, form over time, your voice would perhaps croak back to its natural timbre. Therefore, the core difference between you and I and the reason that you are not a man is because you need drugs to simulate what it means to be a man, whereas I don’t because I am a man. You are merely a woman injecting herself with testosterone to acquire an approximate sense of what it feels like to be a man. Your experience remains that of a woman simulating a man, not a woman who has somehow now become a man.
This entire saga of yours began with a creeping whisper deep within you. For a long time, you had no answer to this crying question: ‘why do I suffer?’ But then you found transgenderism on the internet, and it was manna from heaven, a lightning revelation. It taught you why you suffered, why you felt such discomfort as a female. You were inducted into a community, a cult of camaraderie, a conclave of the like-minded who all felt at odds with their bodies. Your gender adventure commenced.
And yet, with every injection you give yourself, another whisper rises from the depths, relaying a secret you’ve hidden from yourself all this time, a truth that gradually gnaws at you and grinds you down over the years. With each needle you stick in your arm, its voice grows louder and louder, it’s your old voice, your natural voice, and it says: ‘I am not a man – why pretend?’ And perhaps there will come a day when you acknowledge that voice and tell yourself: ‘I can’t pretend anymore.’
You will never be a man.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=rV-Exeal17s
