A Letter To Myself

It's like we're buckets and waterfalls
But every bucket has a hole
And then you say, have you found a plug yet?

It doesn't have to be perfect but
You have the power over your hole
Your plug is yours to control

Remember your plugged is your power
And your waterfall, this nourishing bliss
Can be given wisely or poured amiss

So where does that sacred water go?
Does it spill over, or hit the rocks down below?
And tell me how you know

Spiders

Awoke slick hard and trembling

to the stars and night sky day

analogy, knowing and wanting

to understand these complex

interweavings with the midpoint

threads looming, bound into

boundless freethinking. Howto

deflect by diameter when the truth

is both, dear, neither, and free each in

moments best kept interseparated?

The ways we touched our souls, selves

praygasping in the pew and aisle tell you

story's depth and intimate pride to stand

a crossroads within the start stop push

of the encouraging hand, stopping to rest

where clarity and confusion share a bed

I fear the lack of threat invested in the midpoint

his smooth, her rough and only when I

cease possessive rate of whose is whatshalli

movekissbreathewrithetouchandhow can I embody

the needed space, pleasure repeating in the patterns

and shifting spaces her, my, his, gasp, yes

and when I let myself want what will never happen

and when I let myself know this is no conflict

and when I let myself reflect this each to other

I crash trembling back into myself

troubled no more

BRB LIVING THE DREAM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKtsdZs9LJo

SO this song has hella oppressive lyrics but whatever. The emotional tone is correct  ^_^

Sorry I haven't blogged, texted, called, emailed.... It's been a rough couple years. Divorce, school, health issues, parent... yaknow. I should probably be emailing you now, but this blog post is a short reference for the letter I mean to send.

Last year I swore off love, was completely mad with the world. All was dark. And then this album started playing in my life.

Tracklist: INTERNET WARRIORZ ASSEMBLE, AHA I HAS FRENZ, WOT U MEEN HEALING, O I C COMmunity, Swore off love nope just sex OH CRAP LOVE? YES!, Wot You Mean Saef, OMGCOOL and that's just the beginning!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25VGdNU3nrU

I fell so in love with my life that I decided to offer this album to you, my friend and or fan! For only 3 easy payments of $29.99, This 3 disc album will fill you in on The Complete Life Story '10-'11, As expressed by those more eloquently than I.

I'd like to call your attention to the 3rd album, which is an exploration of the Jester's work in my career: OMG WTF WORLD R U KIDDING ME, ThisCommunity's Shit Looks Like My Community's Shit Too, Where's the Book On My People: Movements 1, 2, and 3. I really want to call your attention to the Where's My Book Trilogy: I managed to completely interweave this process with a lifelong favorite of mine, BOOK SHOPPING OH YEAH. I've loved that song for years and it was like these three places in the music just popped up woven into it, so I couldn't help it!

After that comes Disc 3, AcademiDays. the prequel: The Greener Grad Writes a Contract. After that the movement, YOU MEAN THERE"S A GREENER CLASS FOR THAT: YAY, OMG, WTF begins. You'll see a sense of organization relevant to the earlier trilogy on Disc 1: Where's The Book, but from a backward dimension. Sort of an Academic Plateau but we'll come back to that disc later.

What you do there is you stop and switch back to The first set of tracks I mention, reexamine those within the skape of the tone created by the first half of the third album. Then it's off to Disc 2 which is sort of an interlayered conversation, between equal parts: Andrew Jackson Jihad: My Father Didn't Love Me, Peter, Bjorn & John - The Young Folks, Sarah McLachlan's Possession (My New Trick Pony for Karaoke Remix) and Soundbites from Zapp And Roger: More Bounce To The Ounce.

So now we go back to AcademiDays and pick up with the second half. It begins with a postscript for YMTAGC... a short punk piece called "Spring Break's A Waste". Then the story resumes with a cover of my favorite bands New Friends' tune from their album "ARE": The Scholarly People, an original again called From My Bed, and then Me First And The Gimmies' The End Of The Road (Yes totally a raunchy oppressive dude trying to be romantic song but fuck perfection, people who know me know how I mean this). Following up to this I realised something:

I'm spending all this time talking to people about trans stuff, relearning research so I can create Unmentioned Written Project On Trans Subject, ANd getting to hang out with folks more than I normally would which is looping back into my project being stimulated. Does this not sound like I have finally discovered my truest geekery?


My boyfriend up in Seattle and I have this HISTOQueer relationship and we're happy Disco Dance style. Neither of these are cracks about his age. He's juuuust too young for them to apply. But he's a Hairdresser On The Hill. Juuuust saying <3 And a lot of my research is up there too. Some folks up there I know beside, because of, led me to him.

BRB Living The Dream.

Funeral For A Friend

I don't normally write Slam but this was necessary before my head popped off.

"Funeral For A Friend"

The callow talking smack at a funeral

Beneath my boot as grit and I hit

The street again. I walk my Thunder

And I am in to take anybody down

I'm a Stryker; but I bring it with the

Clown, insane at the thought of you

Trying to bring my posse down—you'll

Think you're hard only til I start to frown.

The grease is slick on the street where

We meet with the Bats painted pink

Just to make you think was it twice

I said that thing to that one guy was he

Queer or Trans did I Bi him a drink to

Apologise to the kids in the room, the

Storm swelling now to spell my doom

And the cold gut sweat as we pass you by

THIS TIME but what

If you're thinking now we're a force to be recognised

We're a populace with our own sovereignty

As we seek our own serenity at a funeral

Don't you dare intermission, a Missionary

position is not desired, just sit a while, don't

Interrupt with a sermon cos Doggy Style's

The only way to keep from getting bitten now.

to claim the fabulous

expressing my inner fabulous is much easier to do with delightful clothing--and it inspires brilliance in others.

Last night I was at the Steampunk Exhibition Ball in Seattle. I was deeply inspired by the beauty of my fellow Volunteers and Attendees. I looked ok, too :)
I've been prompted by this event to finally create an outfit titled 'Adam Dove'. I'm still developing his back-concept, but essentially he's a glittering Cabaret Boy. In reference to Soiled Doves, he wears a reinvented tea-length satin skirt, fishnets and leather spats below his waistcoat (design as yet unconfirmed, but the satin on the pocket will match the skirt) and skirt-matching ascot. There will be a collared shirt but it may be sleeveless with a passunder sleeve design with multiple layers. We'll see whether the sleeves end in gloves with finishing details added over, or the gloves are separate.

He has no interest in 'passing', so he needs no stuffed bra thankyouverymuch. He's not here to worry about that. He's here to fuck...your gender, ever so sweetly and graciously. His brocade/beaded bag contains many useful things for many occasions and looks delightful hanging from his slightly limp wrist.


Random! and now, poetry!
just remember
what it looks like inside
is not always visible
striking chords depends
on the resolve of the interior

to the river before us

always never looking forward back to the

tension you have encouraged

in the instance of Persephone,
Hephaestus revealed with precision

Who of all of you
Casting your eyes on this grace
Is moved to venture on?
Do you lie there and let yourself
Wander through that hidden space?

fire and water

With love and encouragement for shiny, who will no longer be afraid. One day.

some say the devil walks
with fire in the left hand
in the right is water
I say power is elemental
and we walk the ways
we're meant to.
A child cries not because
he has no power; but
because his power has
him

God is

the space between now here and nowhere.

Speak the truth of this: All my exes are well shut of me. Yet I'm not a bad person. I am, in fact, pretty awesome according to most. And yet all their lives seem so much better without me. This is strange and cool and awkward.

in other news, my life's purpose in a song that came before I was born: