Welcome to 2016 where…
….my favorite musicians are dead.
….North Carolina actually sunk lower than when I had left in 2010.
…..the atmosphere for being trans is turbulent….turbulent with oppression, murders, political overtones, movie stars and celebrities coming out…..
I’ve been absent from writing because much like painting, I am fair at best at it; I get involved focusing on other things. Some people live to write.
I’m happier living in a state with inclusive laws than fighting for rights in a state with few allies to help my unemployment/underemployment. I make enough money to pay rent, eat, and occasionally take a date out or buy guitar equipment.
I repost articles on Facebook about how backwards the laws are from the Southern United States and how their LGBTQ policies are below basic human rights, and look forward to another year or 10 living in California. At least those sub-par states are not collecting any tax revenue from me.
Have you ever fallen deeply in love?
Have you ever fallen so hard it feels like an anvil attached to your heart as it went?
Has the pull ever felt like a yanking from a black hole?
Has it ever been that the moment you realized that you fell so hard, this person was not available to interact or reciprocate?
Was it something you buried from view, hoping that time would simply make it go away? Piled under a friendship, hoping the weight of the friendship would conceal the edges?
Did you hide it behind a slightly diminished smile?
Do you find that spontaneity of pure joy to be guarded forevermore?
Did you cry so hard that a river began to surge through its courses, until the end of time?
Hello, I know I just moved into a new place, but the situation I moved into has changed dramatically in the short time since I got here. Its clear that I need to find another place and fast. I have a steady income and 5 years history with my current job, but I don’t have a security deposit lying around and I need to come up with one ASAP. Other things about me? I am a veteran of the military. I’m queer. I have never been arrested. Please donate as much or as little as you can as everything helps! Please repost this link to boost the signal. Thanks Lexie’s moving fund
It always reminds me of other times of moving out, rather than moving on. Most notably the time that sibling attacked me and I had a friend offer to put me up in a different state if I could transfer my job in 2008. I found that the trashcan was bigger than the moving box.
My life has been “what fits in the box stays” in 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2015. Some of those times I have not had a “where I am actually and physically moving to” as a destination. Limbo-that in between world of uncertainty? Yep. That is my destination.
The box is held together with tape, has markered words scribbled on it. Some other odd labels from its previous usages. How I live resembles this box: I dispose of things that may have been useful if they stayed around a little longer.
But my life isn’t possessions, at least it shouldn’t be. I think it should have as much possessions as a bird flying needs. Those things sometimes keep me focused, remind myself that I have a heart with a few spots of darkness at the edges.
It’s probably better to feel with your heart to remind yourself that you have one than to look in a box after you peel the various tape away to stare upon something representative of life that could resemble just another thing to dispose of.
I got this LTD GL200 Kamikaze in 2013. I squandered a weeks worth of vacation time cashed out to buy her. Last year (2014) I started playing with the back of the pick, as it makes a different sound. January 2015 I installed a Seymour Duncan JB bridge pickup. All of these parts are really coming together. One thing connects another and all of them
are bringing the level of playing and expression to a higher level.
Other planned mods include a brass tremolo block, a Lil ’59 for the neck pickup, and a few effects pedals. Hopefully I can get lessons for sweep picking and or have a band situation finally materialize.
So I’ve decided to climb down off of my tree stump in the urban forest and write a bit about my age. How old do I feel versus How old do I look versus How old I am?
I’m 43 next month. I still get carded for alcohol, though I have been 21 twice at this point. Usually to some complimentary disbelief from the salesperson….
As I am a bit black mohawked and tattooed, I have decided to embrace my grey; however, the mohawk stays.
My peer friends closer to my age are what have really resonated with me, as the best way I could explain it. I wear a bra a lot less and rather enjoy the lack of restriction.
Being embraced as an equal by caring friends that basically are my family seems to effect me in very positive ways and have let barriers and walls fall, crumble, and even in time perhaps fade away.