With and Without Contrast

How much do you weigh?
Do you have any allergies to medications?
Are you pregnant?
Is there any metal in your body?

"...but I don't want to actually do anything about it."

One of the many problems with this generation (society?) is that so many of us are content to know that we are vehemently against abusers of the human race, abusers of our neighbors, great injustices in the world...but, as I heard tonight, "that doesn't mean [we] want to talk about it!"

Especially as a white person, a cis person, a straight person, an able-bodied person etc, it's easy to topically disagree with someone being an elected official or a person/system in power despite the fact that they are racist, sexist, blatantly disregarding human rights, not to mention disregarding state and federal laws (if you put much stock in legalities)...but to not actually take a public stand, to not actually do anything about it, to not want to be bothered by it any more than you really have to...which, as a person in a place of privilege, is not much. 

If you're not dying in prison because of inhuman conditions, if you're not being pulled over (and so much worse) because of your skin color, if you're not worried about finding a place to live or work because of your sexuality, why should you care?

Personally, I think that anyone with any amount of privilege (which is the large majority of people, myself certainly included) who does not stand up and speak out about injustices is a selfish soulless self-centered asshole. How many more people need to suffer, need to die, before we start talking about it, or (better yet!) doing something about it?

Racism (or sexism, or rape culture, etc) is not quaint or funny. It is a systematic oppression of a huge group of individuals who have done absolutely nothing to deserve it or bring it upon themselves. If I mention rape in a conversation, it's because I'm making a point--and the fact that, most of the time, my serious points are taken as jokes really says something. If I mention race in a conversation, it's because as a white person, I feel the need to speak up about how shitty my race and the systems in place treat people of color. If we don't draw attention to these things, who will?

People are struggling to live openly, people are unable to simply go about their daily lives, people are dying, and all you can do is joke about it or ignore it completely. What does that say about you? Are you really going to go through your entire life that way?

If you realize something is wrong, then realize that you could very well be in a position to do something about it.

Upon Further Examination

I realized I've been putting off really examining my life, because of how downright miserable and starved I am here.

I want to be around bigger fish than myself--I feel I've outgrown this tank.

Really?

Raise your hand if you know my name.
...not so fast, doctor's office!

Raise your hand if you remember things you told me in the past.
...not so fast, doctor's office!

Raise your hand if what you told me in the past was true.
...not so fast, doctor's office!


Raise your hand if I only have to tell you things once during the span of the same conversation.
...not so fast, doctor's office!

To be discussed further at a future point...

The intersection of kink-lifestyles and polyamory is so very interesting. 

Elusivity, Elasticity, Ecstasy

What parts of ourselves are so elusive that we aren't even aware of their existence until they are pulled or pushed out of us?

A Memory-Free Life

It's odd to think of experiences I had before the age of 20 as "traumatic"...they are part of the fabric of my life, and "traumatic" carries such a weight with it...in any case, some things happened to me. In the scheme of things, if one has a worldly view and conscious, the things that happened to me are not that terrible. I'm not sure if my lack of memories from my first 15 or so years is directly related to these experiences or not, but there you have it.

For me personally, the lack of memories is only challenging in a few, limited ways. It is awkward when I am asked to give a medical history to a doctor. It is detrimental to my success in English classes, when the writing prompt is "Share a memory from when you were 6 or 7 years of age..."...and yes, it would be nice to remember my mother's voice.

However, it is most harmful to relationships when lovers/partners think I am simply not opening up to them, that I am hiding something or holding back...and yes, it is frustrating when I wish I had more to share, but I simply do not.

Perhaps this falls into my belief that most people live a self-centered life--which is absolutely fine. We take care of ourselves, even when we allow ourselves to believe we are putting others first. If I am unable or unwilling to share memories from my past with someone, they often believe it is as a result of something they have done--that I am punishing them, that I am resisting creating a "real" connection. If my sex drive dies down, they will almost unfailingly insist it must be because I am no longer attracted to them, that I am unsatisfied with them or the relationship. 

To all my present and future lovers and partners - that is not the case. If you are taking me as a lover or partner, perhaps you should trust me enough to believe that.

At a friend's request...

Uke cover of Runaround Sue, a la lullaby, here.

Ever Since the Fire Went Out

We got married in a fever hotter than a pepper sprout

We've been talking 'bout Jackson  ever since the fire went out

I'm going to  Jackson, and that's a  fact

yeah, I'm going to  Jackson,  ain't never comin' back

For my Jackson cover, click here.

So Very Sapphic

As I sit in the breast specialist's office staring at a Georgia O'Keefe print and listening to "Come to my Window" playing softly in the background, I wonder if the irony is lost on them.

Then, an old white Catholic man peered into my breasts, as though they were crystal balls. 

● Reply hazy, try again

● Ask again later

● Better not tell you now

● Cannot predict now

● Concentrate and ask again

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the MRI I go...and to get fancy, new-fangled genetic testing. 

25%...50%...80%...at what point do I ask my insurance company if they will cover a double mastectomy a la FTM, rather than a la normative-reconstruction? I am not interested in having bags of saline replace these ticking time bombs.

The Fresh Prince of...Disembodiment?

My Prince of Bel-Air cover on the Uke, click here.

Mapping the Soul: Morning Musings

Mapping the soul means mapping its needs and desires. What does it crave...and why? It does not recognize institutions and systems such as marriage and privatized prisons, it has no knowledge of the class system and privilege. The soul is self centered and greedy, knowing only its own thirst...even if that thirst is to help others realize their own agency and fate.

What elements make up the soul? Agency, fate, desire, need, heart, fulfillment, lust, connectivity, rawness....and how watered down have these all become in contemporary society?

Geography of the Soul: Midnight Musings

“Your soul knows the geography of your destiny. Your soul alone has the map of your future, therefore you can trust this indirect, oblique side of yourself. If you do, it will take you where you need to go, but more important it will teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey.”

 ― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

“There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives. Those who are lucky enough to find it ease like water over a stone, onto its fluid contours, and are home. Some find it in the place of their birth; others may leave a seaside town, parched, and find themselves refreshed in the desert. There are those born in rolling countryside who are really only at ease in the intense and busy loneliness of the city. For some, the search is for the imprint of another; a child or a mother, a grandfather or a brother, a lover, a husband, a wife, or a foe. We may go through our lives happy or unhappy, successful or unfulfilled, loved or unloved, without ever standing cold with the shock of recognition, without ever feeling the agony as the twisted iron in our soul unlocks itself and we slip at last into place.”

― Josephine Hart

The soul doesn't understand geography and limitations of time and space. The soul is self-centered, knowing only its own needs and desires.

The Breast Connection: A Trailing of Thought

Breasts do not a woman make, nor do I identify as a woman. 

As a result of some health issues I am experiencing, I have been examining my feelings towards my breasts. As a queer genderfluid person who predominantly presents female and femme, I do have some fun with them. With some added padding, I can nicely fill out the top of a corset. I can shake them at people when I am performing and they will give me money. However, I do not always identify with them or even remember that they exist.

Would I have any challenges with making the decision to sacrifice my breasts in exchange for a far lesser chance of developing cancer? Would any lovers I have experience difficulty with this decision? As a CAFABulous queer person in the 21st century, what impact do breasts have on my queer identity and sensibilities and those of the people with whom I surround myself?

Would the modern healthcare system take issue with my personal decision to sacrifice my breasts for a more secure and healthy life? From a financial standpoint, at the very least, it will most likely be the most prudent decision...and most likely from a health standpoint, as well--however, our society and culture places so much weight and importance on  non-FTM CAFAB-people (trans* or cis) having and keeping their breasts, regardless of whether or not they will ever breastfeed or experience sexual pleasure from or ever identify strongly with them.

These trails of thought serve as yet another reminder that my trans* identity is erased in all but the most radical and forward-thinking and open-minded of circles, and another reminder that we are not allowed full control of our bodies.

Wanderlust & The Wayward Wind

The wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And he was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind

-Gogi Grant, "The Wayward Wind"

My sense of urgency was recently awakened by a tall, dark, handsome stranger who unexpectedly exploded into my life.  Am I living somewhere that has less to offer me than I it? What has been holding me here these past 8 years?

It will soon be time to move on, to grow, to flourish.

Currently occupying my mind is New Orleans, a place claimed to be unlike living in America...home to culture and queers and radicals and devoid of the police state culture present in so many other locations. A visit is in order, during which I will visit the universities and local stomping grounds.

I thirst for kindred spirits and soul growth.