DOTS!! and Dash

HEY GUYS!!   HEY FRIENDS!!   HEY PEOPLE!!!

After five decades of planeting with you ,You’d think I would know your preferred nouns by now. But I don’t.  You’re still the mystifying organism known as Humanitor. 

But it’s okay—I misclassify myself on occasion too. I’m one of you & though less mysterious than you I’m still not fully solved.

*****

It’s not the New year (new Decade) yet, but I’m desperate for change so I’m going to elasticize a bit

past Thanksgiving to the knowledge that the Internet (and social networking) was the strangest & most magical & also least wholesome experience I could’ve ever imagined in my life;

I think in 2009 I proclaimed Facebook “more enchanting than attending one’s own funeral” and I meant it. it was a blast and it was more entertaining than television, or my real introverted life before the extronet;

for me being alive on the internet was more lively than going to a party in real life. and that’s…not as sad as it sounds, it’s hard to see people having fun in real life when I’d rather be home writing reading singing or just about anything.

So this has been quite an enlightening, evolutionary, revolutionary decade we’ve spent together & I think we’ll look back at it & pat ourselves on the back for being such brave magicians.

The Gentoos perform their own version of The Crying Game

***************** BUT WAIT

I haven’t written enough about being trans here, and I apologize.  When I started this momentous portion of my life, I thought it would be more newsworthy : ))

But my change has not been as drastic as the younger (& same age as me, in fact all other trans guys I’ve seen) and it has puzzled me, and my friends, and my doctors. But I changed more this year than in the first 3 years on T combined. I’m finally at a plateau I can live with without wanting to murder the person in the mirror.  I love my post-post-post modern pubescence!!!!

I never expected to be Aquaman, and yet I felt like him at times this& last year. My T was high then, but it’s high now. I never, never, ever understood the female hormone cycle, no matter how many times I read about it in Cosmo or a doctor explained it w/ charts & all. I just never got which fluid was in the beaker at which time of month. And why it had to affect me so much [??]  I know that’s problematic, but I hope you understand. 

Anyway, I’ve never been good with hormones. They’re like little foreign languages flowing through my endocrine system.

I feel pretty good gender-wise, though.  And that’s something to be Thankful for as we bypass all the turkey talk.

The Gentoo Emperors — Teduardo, IO Pine, Cayden Haydenson, and Susie G (full biographies to come)

I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that sometime in 2014 my brain broke and its probably not going to return to the way it was. I’ve adjusted to a different level of foreboding that tells me something absolutely catastrophic is going to happen all the time. It took five years to calibrate my new levels of foreboding w/ PKD-approved reality. But…

…I’m still not sure something catastrophic hasn’t already happened???!!!?? 

Anyway, I tried to fix this many ways, including yoga, fitness, all the healthy stuff that I was told to do by well meaning folks

and then had to feel like a huge failure when I couldn’t live without medication any longer.  (I no longer feel bad about this—I’m old and brains go bad.) I just worry about my liver now. But let’s not start a hypochon-CON.

I’ve had a good life and I know for sure there are enough good people out there, even if I can’t talk to them regularly.

Pixel gets in on the act

THIS YEAR…I did what I’ve wanted to do since 11-8-16. I lost hope in people. I gave up on life. I know, I know…I’m a rich, crazy, asshole who can do something like that…that’s partially true…but a little exaggerated : )) Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend it if you have many real world commitments…it’s a feral adventure…and be sure to have the support of angels (living and other) around you. 

I had to unconsciously face some conscious [biases?/terrors?/glitches?/some of which were not even my own] and that sounds so easy but nothing was labeled and all the pie was in uncharted territory,

the soft innards leaking past the tinfoil...mmmm, pie.

There is no 14-year-old girl here. Nor any mama. Your dumb pie will land on the wall way above my head.                                        

No papa bear eating toast, but there was a jaguar spotted swimming across the channel.

Misuse my words and treat them as you would my torso when you thought it was yours

and it may be funny but I hope it’s also a big load off your…

…..

…..

….

shoulders.  [There are no puns here! Only double thrusts and ironic jabs; so sharpen or grow up]

Muchi gratz to Matt Groening for learnin' me to draw a proper bun!

******************AND THIS!!!

I’ve always known what everyone wants to know (as soon they get away from you & with their friends) is all the sexual stuff.  I encourage everyone to do their own research on the effects of testosterone & estrogen  [freud missed 

the boat when 

he didn’t guess it could flip over]

I was going to do a thing on transitioning bathrooms, but it wasn’t very exciting. I never was a fan of public restrooms, even as a lady. And let me tell you, no matter how strongly you identify as male, the women’s restroom is a luxury you give up when you pass too well as a guy. The lack of privacy is a bit alarming, speaking as a human of either gender who is accustomed to stalls or peeing in a cup in my car : )) But I think the most bizarre bathroom experience was running into my brothers in there at a wedding! I quickly ducked into a stall so I hope it wasn’t as awkward for them, but thank fuck that stall was open : O

Usually men’s restrooms are darker and quieter than women’s. That’s nice. But women’s rooms smell better! That’s about all the bathroom data I could gather. I hope that was entertaining enough for you.

WRONG!!!!!!

With the help of colorful dots, medication and Eeeyore, I feel better than I did when I decided to give up hope on people (March-ish). I think the pendulum will strike a less vertiginous balance, though I’m not sure it’s done swinging in all directions…

…which is to say I’m still 115% for Free Speech. Especially for artists and whistleblowers. I had to wrestle with my own peanut gallery of voices with the question of someone’s right to incite violence using hate speech, after the Australian guy went to NZ and shot up a bunch of Muslims and then claimed prominent world leader DT’s rhetoric as his inspiration,

[ I wish I knew more about clauses and addendums about gagging potential dictators. Did we not clausify this stuff after WW2—what was the verdict on Free Speech then?]

Can he shoot someone on 5th Avenue and get away with it? The only thing I see in my perfectly conscious and wide awake mind is YES.  And that’s not a the Tiptree-approved reality I saw myself growing ripe in.

Anyway, I know there is a faction of free speech activists who defend it just so they can get away w/ promoting their hateful nationalist racist sexist agendas. 

I hope this is not us, Miss Question Mark/

                                 Madame Asterisk!   << misgendering someone else is kinda fun!

************ IN CONCOLLUSION

Are you wondering why I keep talking about the internet and the social networks in the past tense? As if they are something I enjoyed at one time, but not so much here and now?  Well, I’m bout to deliver a premature new years resolution for the whole decade of the 20s — yay The Twenties! Let’s all be Dadaists together (or separately)—

My resolution is to be on the internet less! I’ve gotten down from a steady 77% to a nice comfortable 44%. But I’m gonna crank it all the way down to 11%. 

An 11% internet life is all I can handle from now on : )) and that includes this blog too! 11% Octopus, I hope you understand. I am thrilled to have reconnected & known so many new people (esp writers). But now I shall go have my Syd Barrett years, so don’t be surprised to see a fat old bald guy growing roses in the garden next time you stop by!

************Post Script Re: DOTS

Hey GuyFriendPeoples, you know I don’t do much art that’s pretty. It’s just not what inspires me. But I want you to know I was making the most beautiful dot portrait of the view from our cottage on Siesta Key. It was turning out quite nicely, but…

…the art gods demanded a sacrifice out of the calypso blue   So I ripped up my landscape &

kicked my own ass

& everyone was happy

I will try to recreate the landscape sometime in the Spring. Now is too soon.

***********Post-post Script re: 8

This summer I found out I had an 8th sibling. Along with my 2 natural born sibs, my 2 long lost step-sibs, and my 2 younger adopted sibs, there was a sister born before my parents met in college. It was treated as a huge secret & swept under the rug, but I knew from a young age that my family was a very secretive unit, so I wasn’t surprised to find out five decades later that there were even more secrets than I’d figured out on my own. I haven’t met her yet. But I have no doubt she will be more welcome in our family than I ever was.

And so it goes.

Stream Of Mad Manliness

Friends & Allies,

I hope all is fine in your worlds, as I am battling a feeling of unease

With all the soft, nerfy tendrils of my heart

I feel an earthquake inside me

Again….every few months

Like a natural disaster I rumble

My tectonic chakras slamming into place &

Opening inner eyeball doors

Life is as safe as it is unsafe

And as fair as it is unfair

And as balanced as Fox News,

No just kidding…even Fox News is balancing something 

We may not be hearing over here

Over here over here in the U.S.A.

I try to keep my sense of humor,

But sometimes I give it away--

I donate it to the humorless void

I can't quite locate inside my frame

Is it in my skull?

My ribcage?

Sometimes it's a tremor located

In my legs and they collapse

Like third world infrastructure in 

A 7.3 quake

I have had 3 wonderful months in a row

Spring is my favorite season after Autumn

But here comes Summer, that bitch…

I fear her. Or him. I don't mean to

Gender the seasons…  SPEAKING

of GENDER:

I almost made it out to the 

Harvey Milk Festival--I planned on going

I wanted to go & show my support &

See the music & hear the murmur of progress

But I realized:

I am absolutely SATURATED with the LG(BT)Q dilemma

Right now, and I need to step back from it

I need to remember who I am besides someone

Who is changing slowly into

Who he really is…

Yes I said it: He. HE.

PEARL

So far I have shared mostly the shallow aspects 

Of transitioning--the clothes

The outward appearance, the attempts to

Avoid being called "Miss" or "Ma'am"

But now I am thinking of myself in male pronouns

I think "He" instead of "She"

And that is much harder than

Choosing what neutral, masculine outfit to wear

Because all my neurons scream

"No No NO NO NO  NO!!!!!!"

You are not allowed to be in that club!

You are not anatomically correct!

"You are too short to be a man. You've GOT to 

Accept that you're a female!!" (Mom's voice after my suicide attempt

always echoing in my head)

The laughter…the questions…the jokes…the

Unwanted gropes

There is a lot of POLITICS surrounding GENDER TRANSITION

We have polarizing figures like Bruce Jenner & Kristin Beck

So public, both hated & revered for doing what they're doing

There are TERMINOLOGY issues--

Apparently it's not okay to talk about "passing"

It triggers things in people who have made it

Through their transition already

But I am okay with the word "passing"

That's all I can do right now

There is issue with the phrase "born in the wrong body"

But that is EXACTLY how I describe my situation

I guess the preferred phrase is

"Assigned female at birth (AFAB)"

That seems a) like a mouthful b) euphemistic

c) it doesn't have the gravitas that accompanies the kind

of gender dysphoria I've experienced all my life

And there is friction between those who are public about

Their transition (Jenner/Beck)

And those who wish to remain "stealth" (just live as their

chosen gender w/out letting anyone know there was a "journey"

from one to the other)

And I can respect both of those decisions

I can understand why some people would go "stealth"

Even though I don't feel I could do that

I need this to be a "journey" I can share with

The world, no matter what 

And hey, I just have to ask--

Why has the "trans community" forgotten about

CHAZ??

He is a public figure; he shared his transition

On a mini reality called 'Becoming Chaz'; he was on

Dancing With The Stars, for chrissakes!!

I never hear his name lumped in with

The famous (mostly female) trans population.

Anyway…enough about all that

I am moving along slowly, slothfully, snailishly

Forgiving myself for all the years

Of anger and hate and frustration

And restlessness and fakery,

And any hurt that has caused the people around me

I'm trying to accept myself for who I am

Someone who WAS born in the wrong body

And who has come out in a time when it seems safe to do so…

Attempting to be who I really should've been

From age 2.

That is the truth, and sometimes it robs me of my happiness, humor & sanity

And sometimes it is the very

Source of those things

Aaahhhhh, LIFE. You mysteriously little angel w/

Devilish afterbite. I'm still with you.

And if you're still with me, here is an art project that didn't go so well

I wanted to draw "something shiny" in pencil. 

I chose scissors, but did not do a good job with the shininess…

Frustration ensued.

“I am so angry with myself because I cannot do what I should like to do,” he wrote in a letter as he tussled with mental illness —

FUCK