Tag: writing

Want

We danced through time
as roses with their petals falling upward
into heaven’s grace
that holy place between our legs
And even though we stopped a while
I always dreamed
and smelled your sting
the acrid devil’s haunting choir
that I can’t replace
I long for the way you felt that day
the moaning soft vibration of you
It resounds in my heart
our city fell in the month of May
but now on the wreckage we dig in our shovels
a photo op, and a ribbon splitting
this is where we now begin
your love is what I want to win

My heart is a homeless camp

My heart is a homeless camp
So let the rain of wine drain down
to douse the pain
of living in your car emotions
uncaring where the crosswalk is
my heart it walks barefoot and beat
staging a coup on the surly traffic in the street
its unkempt hair, the surest vein
of how did I not know it blues
we pray, the other organs, for her health
but hearts beleaguered, anoxic, and still
rarely revive from that attack’s news
Goethe said one ought not resist fate
that bird who sings on street corners
he bade you go and submit to her
and she will guide you pleasantly
so willingly I’ll go to meet her
leaving death and change aside
this pristine goddess dreaming
in my head reveals
that love like that can never die
you’ll hold it past your last lorn sigh


Coping with a New Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome (ASD)

I’m going through a bit of an existential crisis lately. I’m switching back to the tech industry; I broke up with my partner; and a couple weeks ago I found out that I have a mild case of Asperger’s Syndrome. That last thing is probably the most confusing thing to digest. It makes perfect sense honestly. I was always a loner in school. I’ve always been insanely reactive to noises. I started having meltdowns when I was 16. I excel at math and music. I’ve worked as an engineer, where half of the people might be on the spectrum. I’ve always been an insomniac. I found it nearly impossible to make friends until my mid-thirties. There’s more, a lot more.

Learning that I was born with my social difficulties has allowed me to realize that my weirdness is OK. I get overwhelmed by the world a lot, and I never really had an answer to why this is. I’ve been this way since I was little, so there is also a lot of trauma and rejection piled on top of my difficulty with people. Then I developed fibromyalgia as a response to constantly being overwhelmed and unable to form social bonds. And of course I was also way more femme than the other boys.

But a label is really just a label or a bucket that separates people as “other.” It can be helpful in some ways, but also limiting in other ways. I have learned how to live in a world that is not designed for me. I have learned how to mask myself by mimicking other people, and this is something that everyone does to varying degrees. Where my natural inclination is to talk about deep subjects, most people just want to do small talk.

But it hurts to think that maybe my relationships might have turned out better if I wasn’t so cold at times. I really do crave social interaction, but I also get overwhelmed, and it can be a lot of work to maintain relationships when you need so much alone time to recharge.

So I’m trying to figure out how to be myself with this new knowledge. I’ve ALWAYS felt strange. I used to think that I must be some sort of robot for not feeling my emotions like other people felt theirs. It’s a supremely odd thing to get some new knowledge that completely changes one’s entire personal history and personal narrative. And I know a common reaction to this will be “you don’t seem autistic!” That’s because I’ve worked very, very hard at developing behaviors that others take for granted. I’ve had to shoulder this load in silence, alone, and it’s been extremely exhausting.

I know because I don’t have skills in certain areas, I have talents in other areas, like writing and music. But right now I feel somewhat lost. I know I’ll find my footing again. I’m not these labels. I am a magical mermaid artist, lover, dreamer, creator, and fool who can make people laugh. I suppose it feels like a certain part of my brain is on overdrive, and so I have had to learn how to deal with this without spinning off the rails.

I’m figuring it out, but it’s been a slog. At least now I have an explanation of sorts for the root of my “issues.” And honestly for someone with high functioning Autism, I’m doing really well. I’m working full time; I’m getting my Master’s; and I’m a performing musician. But sometimes I get overwhelmed and turn into a social recluse to cope. It’s tiring, but I’m making my way through the fog with a little help from friends, family, and lovers. I wasn’t really born with the ability to maintain those relationships but I’ve learned how over the decades. And I’ll keep on learning.

Fallingđź’ŽDiamonds

they let it fall
in stars and bars
the monster maimed
by Minhs and Ladens
tumbled to the ground

Watch the cruel young sacrifice
the states united under Christ
find love in murder appetites
the end of hedonism’s brawl
the zombies wandering the malls
the thoughts of normalcy controlled
they dive inside delusion’s hall

they let it fall
in stars and bars
the post-apocalyptic waste is now
but no one knows beyond the fun
how best to think of life and guns
they’ve lost and corporations’ve won

ding dong ding dong
love live the lexicon
some of us are separate
and some of us are one
let us mix and bathe and hug
in goddess minded peace
and Leo hearted love

Don’t be dull

Don’t be dull
the grizzled, stained, and tired man says
in the window on my screen
the speakers hiss from the VHS recording
as he yells “he wasn’t even a professional drunk!”
and I drink some wine and take my mental notes
am I a professional drunk?
an apprentice? journeyman?
Yeah, I guess so. I guess so.
But who the fuck cares about “alcoholics?”
this bastard on my screen is so revered
and he was drunk damn near every minute
of his rambling life
They’re trying to take our joys away
They’re trying to take our joys away!
for the sake of PRODUCTIVITY!!
and EFFICIENCY!!
and a ton of other buzzword bullshit slogans
They just need you to be less human
because humans don’t make good tools
They want you like a machine, a wrench, a fucking screwdriver
named Dave from Indiana
Dave thinks he’s free
You think you’re free
I think I’m free
but we’re not all right on that one.
Don’t be dull
I’m trying Chuck

I’m not here

I’m not here
but here unfurls my broken heart
I pass the ghost of Joseph Campbell
who walks around the mall
on his daily stroll
and I think about justice
or accepting none
I pull my turn signal
and find my spot
This country lies
and takes the best I’ve got
so on I go, alone, apart

I think of her
the one I loved
the only one
but now she’s gone
a wall erected now between us
taunts the lovers on each side
this poem wasn’t supposed to be about her
but here I am
within my weathered sphere
a lonely, calloused queer
who rests down on her knees
to pray the prayer
an ode to she

Life can be understood to be a video game, some thoughts I downloaded recently

Life can be understood to be a video game. Somewhere, our true bodies lie in a contraption that beams the contents of this world into our true self. This body in this world is just an avatar, a video game character. This smaller self is created by the interaction of our true self and the video game program, which can be thought of as God.

The code, or God, works against us to stress us. We adapt and keep playing. Our true self interacts with the reality matrix called life in two ways: first, it interacts with “objects” within this world. You might write a letter and put it in the mail to your mother. It takes a couple days of game time to get there. The second way that your true self interacts with the game is instantaneous. There is a psychic connection between all aspects of the simulation and your true self. We all have an instantaneous messaging system with each other.

This is what is known as telepathy, knowing at a distance. This is because of the differential in time taken to send a message; one system has a relative system of timing that depends on variables within the simulation. The other is a fixed, extremely fast, system of messaging. When these two systems of communication come into similar speeds, we call this intimacy. Some true selves have been working with other true selves over many different game attempts. They are bonded in a union.

The “angels” of this video game are just subroutines or non-player characters to borrow from modern video game terminology. This is why angels are thought of as lacking free will in the Abrahamic religious tradition. They are just artificially intelligent components of this video game. There are however, moderators of this system who do actually exist outside of the system. They are system administrators, or gods. They speak to the select few who are approaching graduation from the game.

One graduates when certain fundamental lessons have been absorbed into the consciousness of the true self. Life is merely a conditioning system for our true self. We enter into the video game when we are immature beings of the race of the creator. The system exists to challenge us so that we learn lessons that are necessary requirements of living in such a technologically advanced society. The individual events that happen in our lives have no real importance beyond their ability to help our true self to evolve into a mature individual who is then ready to reenter the society that is running the simulation.

Certain varieties of wine grapes must be grown under specific environmental conditions in order for them to achieve full sweetness. They must be stressed with very hot temperatures so that they overproduce certain sugars. Because of this stress, the wine that they produce tastes better than without the stress. In this way, we are like grapes on a vine. If life was too easy and non-stressful, we would not mature fully. Life has to be stressful in order for us to become who we need to be. There will never be a stress-free existence inside of the simulation. We are living inside of a gym with a very demanding personal trainer. And if we check out, we’ll just re-spawn in the same situation. I don’t know what “God” is looking for because it changes from moment to moment. The video game will give you a score, but none of us really know what that is. Click Follow for Automatic Updates!

We Need to Stop Terrorizing our Trans Kids

The transgender experience is not really about gender. It is about the denial of normal socialization to children by adults with no empathy. These adults laugh and sneer at “queers, faggots, wussies, and girly men” and their children duplicate this behavior in the schoolyard. People born assigned as males who are too effeminate for the modern male society are excluded from community until they learn to leave themselves at the door. The modern male experience mirrors our warrior culture, and so males are taught to police their ranks for any semblance of the feminine. Trans kids become the sacrificial scapegoats for this directive, and they grow up lonely, confused, depressed, traumatized, and disconnected.

Those of us who have transitioned gender and know how much more whole we feel after the change can see through all of the claims that trans people are insane. Our definitions of male and female need to be expanded to include those outliers who exhibit traits contrary to their birth assigned gender. Yes, there are biological differences between males, females, and the rest. It’s not all socially constructed. However, the socially constructed part needs to change.

And the root of this problematic construction is in the church. Abrahamic faiths have been at the forefront of the oppression of LGBT individuals for millennia. I really don’t care if the church survives. We don’t need their help anymore. There is a reason that gay liberation arose alongside women’s liberation. Straight men have been the most antagonistic towards LGBT individuals, and as their power is diminishing, they are unable to stop the rise of others’ rights as they would have done in the past with a simple exercise of intimidation, terror, and denial of rights.

This problem is epidemic. We are surviving against the odds. But many if not most of us have some form of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I actually wouldn’t change my path, but I am really tired of the acceptance of the bullying and terrorizing of our helpless children before they know what transgender even means.

Alone

We tried to fly
but suns burn fast
The feathers we held
they didn’t last

I smelled your phantom smell today
and then you flashed inside my eye
I thought of spooning, your embrace
but that must go I’m roundly told
by fate and those around
and so

This day is the day where I’m lost in space
I’m going on but lonely so
I’ll find you again in a bottle or smoke
Without my wings
I’m walking now
alone

The webs we cast

Our loves
they flutter by
and sometimes stick against our nets
and we begin to cry
as we don’t see the nets we cast
we only see the prize
and then enmeshed we thus become
unable to release and fly
the loves we catch and then unfurl
got she and me so high

and now we separate with haste
yet how I long for her embrace

From death comes birth

I know good goddess surrounds me
because
I am a tree, exhausted in her love
and trials
where now I had to leave my self behind
because the voice said plaintively
“leave this place”
the tower falls
upon the ground
great leaping ghosts escape
with mourns
of awful screams
I’m lost but yet I’m found in being lost
What void now sits upon my heart?
the one I loved is now no more
and hopeless now
I’m gone
I’m gone

Please make my tears into a seed
I’ll water, guard, and ably feed
this new growth in the ground so small
to raise it up o’er heaven’s wall