Stream of consciousness. I was just trying to play piano in an empty house.

There’s a stranger in my house
And I don’t know who he is
We chatted for awhile
and the mandate of this house is
to have an open door—
a sort of “come as you are” policy
but this guy comes in boasting about how interesting he is supposed to be

And i’m like
kay

I was playing piano,
enjoying the rare opportunity to be completely alone
in this house of many occupants
and I try to engage in minor conversation
as you drop off your cargo

then try to stand my ground, to do my own thing
but i am programmed to respond in a way that doesn’t jive with the attitude I want to project, and
I’m not impressed

by your jazzy piano stylings or your
stories of being #blessed
and if you have a sense of humour it’s bland and it must be buried
barely giggling at my jokes, my offerings of decency but

you just have to install yourself in my living room
like you live here or have the right to be here

oooh you’ve been here before
oooh you want to borrow our book on marx
oooooh

Great, you live in a van.
great, you recognize your own privilege
Great you went to school for music AND carpentry
and YES there is part of me that is attracted to part of you BUT
no way am I putting up with this bullshit

You make yourself at home IN MY HOME
WHILE I’M OCCUPYING A SPACE
and MAKE IT YOUR FUCKING OWN
taking every opportunity to talk about yourself and then when I ask questions, say
how dry you find it to answer questions about yourself as if you are the first person to have encountered this phenomenon.

Guess what?????
The more nonchalant and aloof you are, the more I DON’T CARE
and the LESS IMPRESSED I become
and the more I want
to KICK YOU OUT of my HOME
I don’t care if you left your sunglasses here.
Who do you think you are?

Why don’t I have the guts to go back downstairs and tell you what’s what?
My desire to avoid conflict?
My desire to please?
My empathy and my guilt?
My social conditioning?
My emotional exhaustion?
My acceptance and embracing of our house’s mandate? (which I really DO stand behind)
I don’t know why exactly.

I just know that I don’t want you to be here.
And I don’t know how to tell you that.

Kindly fuck off, dude.

Bodies, Identities and Genders

Let me take a moment here to talk about bodies. Or my body. Or the vessel in which I move about the world. Perhaps I am my body, or maybe I just live in it, but either way, we are inseparable.

There are times when I identify more or less strongly with the experience of existing in this body I was born into and the ways in which society wants bodies like mine to operate. There are days when I embrace my curves and the sway of my hips beneath a flowing skirt. There are days when I feel compact and tight, strong and springy and there is no room for any flowing skirt. There are days when I want to hide in a shroud, when I feel awkward and uncomfortable no matter what I am doing or where I am. Some days I want to be dashing and handsome and can’t stand the runaway curls that tumble into my face. Some days I feel graceful and feminine but still want to do things that are not traditionally associated with femininity.

Gender is so much more than clothing. Obviously. But what I have learned is that clothing can help me “perform” my identities so that I feel more comfortable and confident moving through the world. It’s more than a costume, too, though as a theatrically-inclined person I definitely identify with the analogy of characters and costumes. Being pretty genderfluid means that I will feel very different from day to day, week to week, month to month, and I never know how I can expect to feel on any given day. So clothing helps me pick out, try on and fit into different facets of my personal identity wardrobe. Kinda? I am still far from figuring it out, believe me.

Anyway, just wanted to rant about that a little. Unedited, unfiltered. Yeah.

I want to do a webcomic

And I have wanted to for a while. I should just start doing it, eh? Just do it, and worry about the content as I go? Like, allow the ideas to invent themselves or the characters to reveal themselves as I get comfortable drawing in a certain style? Yeah. That sounds good. I will start. Soon. Yes. yeah. ys. s.

Remember when I used to do this regularly?

Me neither.

this is life now

I need to do something NOW

Like go back to school, or go volunteer somewhere, or go work somewhere new…

but NOW.

I’m not usually this impatient, but I am full of desire to learn and do and be, dammit. I can’t just sit here. 

Travel. Music. Art. Writing. Nature. Words. Media. Radio. TV. Help.

I want to go to school but I also want to go help people and travel and and and and adnad aSFHDGKAILJJVM,…..,x c,,..vc ,cn . ,,..mn/.,/

Happy 2014

in 13 minutes Eastern time.

Chicken Pizza Chichen Itza

Whenever I think about, hear or read “chicken pizza“, I immediately think of “Chichen Itza“.

And whenever I think about, hear or read “Chichen Itza“, I immediately think of “chicken pizza“.

Also, Porcupines.

Make these sounds:
Teddy Bear, the Talking Porcupine, LOVES Pumpkin

“Freedom”

Search “freedom” on Google images. Go on. I dare you.

Apparently this “freedom” thing has something to do with posing before majestic natural landscapes. It involves silhouettes, sunsets, the raising of arms, the blowing of hair in the wind, and sometimes even leaping.

“Freedom” can be found in fields, on beaches, cliffs and other vistas featuring a prominent and mostly unobstructed sky.

Occasionally, non-human species have been observed in the presence of “freedom”. Namely eagles, horses and butterflies.