Love is Entering Me

I find what I wrote below very alarming.

Shattered, fragmented, self-loathing.

I know there is more to me and to my life than that or I wouldn't be able to do what I do every day, which includes not just obsessive thought but taking care of myself physically and learning to know what it is I need to do to put fulfillment in life into practice.

I fear dealing with life. I've said that.

No one who cares about doing the best they can can do anything but worry seeing all the failure and misery there is in the world. Of course this is a direct route to exactly such failure and misery.

I'm tired of going on like this.

I feel that there is good, I just can't like helping people because they appear to me to be overly vulnerable, incompetent, hateful and sometimes responsible for their own suffering. That's the judgment I render. I'm sure it has something to do with my upbringing, etc., etc. It probably applies equally to my life.

Move on.

I would like to elucidate for myself the relationship between personal choice and social consequences. I believe that society is built to obscure and eliminate personal choice. If all you can do is what is acceptable, then there is no choice.

I love feeling like I understand, like I can act on some portion of reality and that it will move in some manner beneficial to all.

I live in a delusory world. I do know that given the fact that life is but a shadow, as so many have asserted, that I really wish to do nothing except attract love (of whatever kind) and return it (if possible). The way I intend to do this is to be as lovable as possible in appearance, manner, personality, etc. I think I'm going to mostly fail as I am both too intelligent and too obnoxious to attract love in this way. I think I'm going to continue to write about subjects which interest me, such as philosophy, literature, language, social mores, and find little or no audience for my thoughts. I think that pursuing such "shadow" activities will eventually put me in the way of meeting people with "common" interests such that I will find a lover(s).

I find this to be sad, because I think I belong in the spotlight, not in the hidden recesses of the blogosphere and of S.V., AZ.

Speaking (writing) plainly, I am trying to answer my doubts and worries by downplaying them. I am also trying to show that there is a fair amount of kindness that can still make this shuddering, shaken world a palatable place to live.

I am creative (in a way).


I hope you will visit me in spirit and give me succor in your own way as I will try to do in mine.

Please know that feelings of kindness always are there because there's mothers (without respect to gender) in this world.

It's always rewarding to put down words that stand in some relationship to the facts. This is reason enough to write. I'd teach you to do the same, but who needs a broken-down, unstable person like me? I do. Maybe some of you will find you do also. Be happy. You deserve it.

To me: Don't try so hard to teach yourself to live. Lastly, give glamor. It'll cheer you up and maybe others also.

Blessed Be,


c*mare

again with the anger

Eating anger for home shits creep
Goddess changes mother

As I know it, there's so much pain.

Buy tension
Buy life
Buy mothers

Friendship creates stupidity

Anger creates flow

Fuck the price

Atrocities include love, pain, strictness.

A mother who makes life home is teaching that foam creates hell.

Kristianna told me I'm foam.



I take that to mean the insubstantial scum rising to the top of the ocean.



Darkness parses change.

I know that I need to say what this feeling is doing to me.

I am a whore.



Pain is knowing what pain creates.

Underneath my pain?


Lies untold about my "cock".

Anxiety.

Cheapness.

A cry for life.

Large charge: brang charge love.

I'm client of nothing except dirt.

Dirt?

Money.

Make her live.

Can't.

My mother knows love but she doesn't like doing love as home.

She doesn't feel happy.


A pain is trying to do what I wanted.

I wanted to be a her that said me.

Because feelings include being afraid of chasing cock.

Anger is chasing money.

Stop it.

Stop knowing life as mess.

Maybe i can love without chasing home.

Maybe I can try to live and do what life gives: crack.

I hate crack.

flow:

Money chases change like I am a Persian dirty park.

I love change.

I help.

I try.

I make love be.

Sexy.

No one paid for life.

No one made stress.

No one felt bad.

I am "Julia Murray"

Treat me as a fuck.


Need.

Martha made darkness share home.

I know that mothers teach good.

I know that home loves happiness.




Dear Goddess,

Life is a way to love.
A hell is doing life as dirt.

A prostitute cried like pair of
node

Give and all is pardon




Take from me hale target change mind as
plot.

A roasted heifer

is

fool.


Each love likes part
Each mother is word

Gills make fools money,.
Dry money is comb.

I am moose.



Julia darkness called kiss.



Me need a way to hope.




Love me.



Extra.



Her is girl.



Her is money's tuck.



A goddess knows life to ply kisses.




I am part of good.




I wanted it.



I wanted this.



Maybe you can love love as life is a take.


I need to stop makinglife breath of heifer.


Life kills.

Life brings feelings.

Life brings love.

Another boss

Deaf is bride.

Another heifer





Be loving and do feelings



I good and sexy






Tell yourself mush is tested.

Hack poetry

Gold is dry
Moving target
Angels practice

A woman's charge
Posing as share
Grow a friend

Did charge choose
A knowledge starve
Organs like home



More tonight as
Patience climbs me
And does guess

Plenty aflow sighs
When rabbit charges
Calm is fair

Triple mother be
Soft and peaceful
Good is laughter



Astonish light soled
Payment carries power
Moldy notes fold.

Natural tastes come
Lovers cry happy
Fame dry cold

A homeless woman
Saw my love
Jesus made mess


Cruel blame feeds
Ample pain daughter
Camping out main

Flame made whore
Sucks pain up
Feel change hope

Killing is stopped
My anchor's slopped
A portion mopped.

I stood on a picket line in 1984

Quick! Be organized!

Slavery meant darkness is flow
Darkness changes charms for hole

A word to you, who likes time:
Crossing charms with fame makes mime

Assorted feeble mothers make home
Bear the charge: you must roam.

Change is crossed and life is won
Mothers can feel a painful nun.

Enter me with your desirous stick
I treat life to hope for trick

I give you love and I say, "Destiny."

Minor considerations

According to Emerson, that light of American transcendentalist philosophy, one who writes and reads should do those things while not devoting oneself to action of one kind or another, which I take to include work.

Just by paraphrasing him, I'm not being original according to his prescription.

So, where do I begin.

I believe that I would like to help other transsexuals become comfortable with their bodies.

I also believe I would like to do this informally.

I would also like to be some sort of scholar.

I would like to do this without getting a Ph.D.

I would like to suck dick for money and study the classics.

I would like to write a one-woman autobiographical play and perform as the star of my own life.

I would like to launch a reform of the mental health system through my internal knowledge of it.

I would like to be a sexy secretary or waitress.

I would like to have a life partner.

I would like to act out my bitchiness and get paid for it.

I would like to give up my disability and keep my health insurance; quit my medicine and stay on an even keel.

I would like to wish upon a star and have my dreams come true.

I cannot think of anyway to combine all these ideals into one doable, practicable life-plan.

I have to act according to my instincts. Right now that's treating my mother the way she is and not the way I want her to be, which is exactly how she treats me.

Don't forget Sylvia!

Don't forget being a tenacious fighter for social justice!

Don't forget drug addiction!

Don't forget your spirituality.

I know I hate psychology as I know its practice.

I know I hate arguing minute differences of opinion in academia to prove that one is an "original thinker."

I know I am very disorganized and difficult to work with.

Don't forget the environment!

I hate to hummble myself or not to humble myself.

I know what. I'll be a "hostess."

That's a good way of saying: strength does lead to pain.

Must deal with change, life, people.

The Goddess must have something to relate concerning these matters.

I think I'll tutor, proofread, type until I have money to study: sources of English literature in ancient classics.

Hahahahahahahahahaha.

Maybe I'll do a comic book.

What ho!

You have a good day too.

Deal with it

Do lesbians read Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman?

If so, what are their reactions?

I am a cocksucking cheese-eating dyke. Does that make me a lesbian? Do I have reactiions to Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and Ginsberg?

With certainty I glorify individualism. I got this from other people.

With certainty I glorify originality. I got this from other people.

Artaud was mentally ill. Therefore I am also.




As you know, being strong wants life to echo its glorious depth, breadth, contribution, love. Life, however, wants strength to echo it, as one of its strands/pieces/parts.

I really really prefer to know love as life being free.

I really like to have sex as a good and dark lover. Yesterday, while masturbating, I said, yes, daddy, fuck this pig!

Why did I give up my self-esteem?

It must have been because men find it impossible to relate to me as an equal.

This is fair because it took me over twenty years to relate to women as equals.

I'd like to suck but since I'm not, I'll tell you that I am being hopeful.

Really there's one friend I have. That's sluts.

Alright, I admit that you and I have seen very little of substance transpire within these writings.

Doctors of psychiatry are there to control you. So are doctors of philosophy. Well, not exactly control, but let you find your own level on your terms, which are never theirs, unless you are willing to step up and abandon skills of living among others as one with them. Infinities of disparagement await.


As you know, pop culture really makes life better.

As you know, costs of living appertain to one's preferences, not the judgments of others.

As you know, giving entails trying.







Me sarcastic.



When I'm in confinement, remember that you and I have made a little fun.

Girl, treat me flawlessly.

Utterly without merit

Why is it that when tables are turned, there's joy but not change?

Why is it that when change remains without knowledge of its own interests that it makes people create dry and foolish conceptions.

Ask yourself how to give and how to relate to strength when all that begins with friendship must be life. (Life and death are made as home). Surrounding the creatiion of beauty is the way of being caring.

I need to give strength because I needed to live as a cruel mess. I was good. I was strong. Now I'm strong as crack.



People need to help themselves. I need to be helpful. Therefore, I am a nincompoop.


As you continue to wonder why I constantly write in this vein, I will tell you that I am crazy.

I am also a fairly strong woman who needs love and just happens to like people when they are very poor and like me.

I am a hypocrite thereby.

Sex and drugs and rock and roll all make me feel dumb.

Sex and change and hate and feelings all try to make me foolish.

I need to drop anger; however, I am paid to seek money. (Gov't Disability)

Please understand that I must drop my love and folly and dedicate myself to holding to humans and to doing what I feel is best for me.


Stay happy.

Love yourself.

Good?

A note on constructed masculinity

"Need without feeling" -- a preliminary description of the stereotypical state of being in male sexuality. This state would cause incredible emotional pain in any individual. This pain would cause persons to seek relief and release in others (individuals constructed as women in a binary gender system). "You're nice, so..."
This removal of emotionality as a legitimate component in male desire is a source of the self-perpetuation of stereotypical male-female conditions and relationships.

This is an intuition based upon my own suppression of feeling due to, partially having this expectation upon myself due to my upbringing, and partially a deliberate though half-forgotten attempt to model male behavior and emotional conditions within myself in order to resolve questions of the whys, wherefores and sources of the binary gender system for those unconvinced persons whether "male" or "female" who do not wish to see the constructedness of the system, its effects, and its damaging results for EVERYBODY.

Who would emotionless desire benefit? Who does the division of society into men and women benefit? It seems to me that those persons are ones who extract wealth and position from such divisions, who in Western society are those who deliberately hide their sexuality from the common round of people in order to perpetuate their power to manipulate such people. These are people who hold onto money through pretending their sexual conduct within their social life is a "private matter" having no effect on others or who legitimate such self-assertions. In other words these are the sexual hypocrites among us, whether rich or their hangers-on, the right-wing religious leaders.

This is an overly simplified and schematic account, yet I believe that it is successful in tracing the ongoing and thus "historical" relationship between individual emotional conditions and the social beneficiaries of such conditions.



A personal reaction to what brought about the above writing and the consequences of it for me.

I feel on the one hand a great frustration that my mind constantly works on problems related to the one expressed here and yet rarely do I succeed in communicating the results of this WORK; and on the other hand a great frustration that I have ignored my own feelings to accomplish this.

These feelings are:

awareness that I am isolated; resentment of this; exhaustion because of this; knowledge of inauthenticity; hope of receiving emotional comfort.

I believe that no one need feel that they must destroy their own natural predilections for the sake of proving some sort of hypothesis about society. Yet how else will all believe that the social and individual distortions and pain related to the binary gender system NEED once and for all to dissipate?

I rather prefer to know how there is feeling within me than how there may not be legitimate feeling within society. The fact that there is feeling within me in and of itself is an argument to obviate the system of legitimation/non-legitimation. This is a plea that others recognize my humanity as well as their own.

A home for Julia
Is all around

Stark pest flow.

Strangely enough no one likes being free when trying happiness in love.

I am a lost and terrorized person.

Believe in the universe within. It is there for you and will give you kindness and joy without destruction of your being or that of others you love.

Interesting.

I know in this moment that my feelings are hopeful and that I must restore myself to functioning as a whole person. Please do not abandon me. Love me please I'm tired.

JKH wrote me. She needs friends to contact her.

P.S. Subject for another time: I don't believe God sexualizes me.

Kinder and Gentler

Passion drives me to will
A land for faerie folk to fill

Misery departs from the soil here
Truest delight is loving dear

Walk to the bank of a flowing stream
Talk in the shade of a flowering dream

Bask in the light where the sky does shine
Listen to the birds chirp and the the tipping of wine

As your life treats your sisters and brothers
Friendship brightens or dims and smothers

Tell yourself how to be fresh and free
as a bee flying to an apple tree

Whatever silly rhymes propose
You know that your love is a beautiful rose

A passage toward gladness about life

Brethren and Sisters,

I feel like a little strange.

I've tried to hope.

I've loved and I've feared.

I know that I was wrong when I realized at some time that feelings are channging and patient.

I'm the one who must be patient.




A strong happy and caring life needs someone who likes the way love is made by that life.

I know few people who do like the way I bring love into the world.

I can only believe that over time that will change.

As you know, shame makes terrible and painful realities in the lives of many.

I only know that if I am without such feeellings, there will be a lot of seeing of life in a clear and some might say "illuminated" fashion as well as a little joy.

As you change, let someone answer your call.

I need to love.

Moments of understanding are infrequent.

There must be some life where pain does not make change scarcely attainable.

People think that there is only a little happiness. I wonder. I say that people know what they are to themselves and that is all the caring, passion and foundation for human existence that one can expect or ask for.

If you need me to give something, I say maybe it's okay to understand what beauty is good for. There's no interesting sense of change that reposes in my awareness besides a kind of feeling that maybe change can help.

A friend has made me know that I can do much. I will keep you apprised.

Love, "c*"

Comments upon lies (May fun is Julia's broccoli)

Why is it that it is with a mixture of contempt and envy that I regard others?

As I know, a way to share love (note that this locution "share love" connotes not directing love at one another but sharing, basking in the love that is all around and within) is to feel strongly that beauty can help.

I am interested myself in knowing why I am writing this.

I know that I can listen.

I want to be true to myself.

Am I one? Am I a crazy woman? Do you think there's a lot of nastiness that I wanted to sexualize?

Ask me a question.

I screwed my lovers.

Stop hoarding, Julia

A war that risks change is slow.

I read to authenticate my mother.

Useless endeavor (and hurtful)

Papers lack teaking (gothic men who are charged with patience).

So, a little bit of help is made a mess.

I'm the little bit of help.



And now for heifer.

Dark crying feelings
Sad patient mother
Foul God change

Actor of strength
Mack in

Begin a little share:
Cock park float
Tree Man Charm

i can leet you know that foreigner fails
and I'm people.

I change like farced
failure

I crack like main
part in

Say it:

Crack is men who want flow.

I am changing so love is sexy.


Please help.

Wither the card?
Boys flew like men

I can let you feel.

I can be naked but I can't change carton.

Rush here and caress my tensed torso.



Cackle, Mother changed.


Brought here by pain
Talked, faced, arose.



Arrogance stems from loving change, not Goddess.

I change for life.

Maybe there'll be good.

Where am I?

I'm sitting in my former bedroom which became my father's TV/computer "den" when I left and apparently was never coming back in the manner in which my parents expected me, which was, I believe, "ready to begin real life."

Now I sleep here on the two-seater couch because this is where my laptop has its attachment to the cable and so it is here I can go to sleep to music.

I am listening to Brazilian jazz on AOL radio.

This morning I wrote a long note to a friend of mine of the '80s whom I recently contacted through facebook. He wanted to know what "moves me" since I had said I'm heartily tired of politics. I started writing about anger, fear, hatred, etc., etc. Then I concluded by saying it was better than I thought. He hasn't e-mailed me back yet.

In response to President Obama's support for the ground zero mosque, I at first danced around the issue and then came down on the side of my asking my mother why is it i feel the way I do. She said she didn't know. I told her I would "figure it out." She said I'd better do it soon.

I feel better now, having had a shower.

I've been reading Emerson. The man is brilliant and provocative and spiritual, but very very oriented toward the intellect and the life of the world being reflective of the presence of God. He rejects paganism EXCEPT in comparison to Christianity that degrades itself into obeisance before the life of Christ instead of seeing God within oneself. I find this a very interesting challenge to my beliefs, and it's driving me to go around in circles as I usually do when I read anything of the sort. Maybe I simply ought to stop reading?

Historically speaking, it just goes to show that the "new" ideas of today only seem new because of the orthodox suppressing or discouraging access to these ideas. People are hungry for something different and they are beginning to find it. This seems to me to be more profound than yearnings for social justice without spiritual roots. I believe therre are such roots, but they hardly ever emerge in an explicit fashion.

I used to believe that African polytheism was a fascinating possible answer to my own individual needs. I now know that I have to respect both myself and others by not absorbing it and being absorbed by it but rather know the influences that go into my own makeup and understanding that there is something there that is beautiful of itself, both within those influences and in relationship to loving Nature (kind and loving Nature).

I believe that much of the preaching done in "Black" churches does preserve the old African values in a variation necessary in and peculiar to this country. i also believe I need to release some of my anti-God bigotry in order to feel comfortable with what it offers.

I lived in a Black church in East New York for several months several years ago and I became aware that the sermons were a means to resist definitioins of God that dehumanized and destroyed people, that didn't recognize the humanity of every person. During one of these sermons I walked out because the preacher seemed to be implying that one had to worship God and I felt that as one who worshipped the Divine Feminine that I couldn't go along with that implication despite all the truth that the preacher was offering. My problem was and has been that I view other forms of worship as lesser because I want to grasp at beauty rather than let it be what it is where it is.

I needed to have acknowledged his beauty.

I'm changing to freekdom because I am a fool AND because change brings hope.

Honestly, I need to know that what I sought for my life is loving and within the bounds of human nature, and that it is a source of joy in this universe and for me.

I wanted to treat myself as a woman so that other people would be themselves.

I think that my beneficent motivation does not sufficiently take into account the fact that being oneself is up to each of us individually, WITHIN the encouraging environment that may offer itself when others have taken those steps.

It is here that I need to thank my community, especially those I have known for years as strong models, not, I know now, to imitate, but rather to learn from. These include ALL of the Sally's girls, their predecessors and the new generations of them, as well as ALL of the MGN women so dedicated to finding a way of life that would allow them to fully express their individualities. I would like to name Chelsea, Sylvia, Rusty, Barbie, Felicia, Randi, Gina Germaine, Jesse Torres, Dorian Corey, Sally, Giselle, Vivian, Antonia, Julissa, Julie and Liz. Also there were many many others not necessarily transgendered who have encouraged me, including RW, JKH, NS and other new and old friends. And lastly I would like to thank Reality, whom I met somewhere around 9th Avenue and 45th Street.

It's okay. Thank you!

Passion for Honesty

Sexuality
Darkness changes four.

Iteration

Believe

Home is JJulia's cop/front.

Calculation

Pace era

A needle is awful.

As I live, I'm a sated shark

My mother is woman.

Trust me, love me, feel happy.



Art is interestiing.


Maybe there's love there.


Om

I am a whore that charged pain.

Entry

I live for calm/cop.

Pretty?

Nuffin

As the title suggests, I've got nuffin to say.

In the life I've chosen, textual id/iosyncrasies a.bound.

Thhis is because without then, I woiuld probably be a trade-off.

And that's i home.

Treat me with goodness; Charm makes me friendly,.

As you know, there's so much that hojme creates.

And listen...

Text

Flow

I was going to "export" this blog to disc and delete it, but somehow it has come to me that I need to write about something -- what, I won't know for sure until I begin to write -- and that I want more than one or two people to read it. I need three people to read it. All three of you.

What I want to say is that I try to like myself. The reason that I keep harping on this and like topics is that I need to.

The main obstacle to my getting over this is that I never knew that life is to me (pardon me, My computer deleted a couple of important lines that I don't think I can remember) "dark" and that I've acted accordingly in order to outdo my own tribe.

Thus this darkness comprises pain, jealousy, envy and desire, beneath which there is fraud.

I like making people fear me. I don't feel sexy enough to make love.
I am therefore charged as form of "kissed" (on my former genitals).

I sense that fear is pain.

However, I would like to be loving.

I need to understand there's no need to be the "best" at all times to satisfy the savior god.

Pain for me makes anger flow outward and inward.

I need to understand love and be hopeful.

i love that there is good and that there is Her.

I know that I can give ("portray") her.

She (the Goddess) is a way that life can be you.

I change to feel happy.

Will love.

Plainly said, I can help (Start): give love to life.

Surrounded, love is good.

Anchored, life is happy.

Given, beauty is transformation (change).

I hope that you will understand that I've been making change a poison.

I can not make change change.
I can only feel hope and be grateful for the peace I feel now having written and admitted to the above.

I love you.

Thank you.

Blessed Be,

Julia Murray


P.S., I'm sorry I never met Mr. Bonewits and I feel a loss that he is gone.