Wondering (NaPo #2/30)

I've been wondering,  
Learning,  
Asking,  
Do leprechauns have leprosy?  
What if there never was coffee?  
What if there had never been scurvy?  
Is Minecraft anti-communist?  
What would have happened if Brad Dourif, instead of actor, pursued the carrer of florist?  
Do fish itch?  
What if they really sold the TF2 Sandvich?  
Why are there so many songs about singing songs and/or identifying with a song, instead of having a message?  
Why do so many people rush into marriage?  
Do androids dream of electric sheep?  
Why do I have such specific and unusual dreams, when I sleep?  
Why do I like images, songs, art, and games so dark, morbid, shocking, and gruesome, when in real life, I don't really?  
Why do I prefer older individuals, and find men sometimes under forty, usually under fifty, and those on magazine covers, ugly?  
How can I write about murder,  
When in reality, I've never wanted to commit a murder?  
Why do so many people use the back door  
When excretion of excrement is all it should be used for?  
Learning about life, and the world around me,  
Learning about me.  
Why this? Why that?  
How does this happen? Why does this, do that?  
Who? When? Why? Where? How? What?  
I may be soft, and feminine,  
But in reality, that is my masculine,  
Like a lioness,  
Feminine exterior, but tough, and full of masculine prowess.  
All I ask is for my male pronouns to be used, and nothing less,  
For respect,  
For if you cared enough to read about me and inspect  
My description, it says right near the top,  
My gender and pronouns, not a big deal if you forget the first few times, but quite a flop,  
If I've been writing about this,  
Telling you about this,  
And it never sunk in, or you chose not to use them,  
And never read my profile to confirm them.  
I'm trying to stay healthy and physically active (not just mentally), and sane during all this family tension,  
Trying to keep this place in a peaceful unison.  
Trying to decide if I want to continue to call my mother's husband, "step-dad" to make it easier for others,  
Or go back to calling him what he is, "my mother's husband", and not causing any false beliefs for others,  
Thinking that we have a close relationship,  
When in fact, it has sailed, that ship.  
I tried, he didn't want to communicate,  
Or participate,  
And then when it was too late,  
He briefly tried to connect,  
But I couldn't, I had already from the situation, disconnect.  
Trying to figure out, if the way I believe is purely me  
And would have eventually come to me,  
Or if some of my thoughts and ideas, I never would have had if others hadn't influenced me  
(Nothing wrong with either)  
Trying to figure out how best to come out to my father  
And tell him my who I am is still the same, no matter my gender,  
Or any other labels I may have.  
Trying to figure out the meaning of the universe,  
What lives out there, dangerous,  
What lives deep within the ocean,  
And learning languages, foreign.  
Spiraling into myself, like a fractal,  
Like a fibonacci spiral.