Test # Free
I cried
Me
A truth
Flying
Bastard conned me
A dark farmer
A free pig
My Dad changed me
I want a drug
Say: Capital changes nothing
Flee ham
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Pain is not everything, everywhere
I know that I write of many things so that the great and small all appear as mere words in a protracted set of self-tortures.
That is not how my life is, or has to be.
Though it is true I have been uncertain of much, confused of much and even had to live through a certain amount of damage, I am still alive, OFTEN feeling pleasure in being alive and able to enjoy what there is around me.
This is possible largely because of copious amounts of support from family and friends and the fact that I am not as far from being an average human being as I would like to believe. I feel many emotions that I have not adequately expressed or described here that deeply affect how I live and my outlook on myself and the future.
One example of a different approach I want to take is the part money plays here and in my life. I know that money is a very basic concern of mine. I hope to make it less so. I also hope to stop making it an issue in my relations with others. You don't deserve my throwing any more shit at you than you are already taking.
There's a lot of wonder, a lot of joy, there's a lot of beauty that I still hope to share, even in this blog, if possible. If you are going to read my earlier posts I invite you to read them with the knowledge that the writer is prone to extremism and great expectations that don't always lead to easy intercourse with the rest of the world. (Literally: I wanted to set up a tent in Central Park and be the Whore of Babylon -- open for business to all. This was more than fifteen years ago, and that desire still influences my thinking.) LOL!
A little bit of ease goes a long way toward making me comfortable with some of the harsher realities and supposed realities. I should say that I often try to embrace them as a way to escape from them. The Road of Excess leads to the Palace of Wisdom, etc.
I think I'm a lot closer to being somewhere on the steps leading to that Palace rather than dragging myself and you through the mud and sharp stones on the way there.
That's the good stuff.
So, where am I at THIS moment?
There's good and there's bad in everything.
I know that I can live and feel; give and be real.
I just want to be known.
So, if you want to know me, I invite you to keep reading this blog, which I hope will expand to something with less abstract pain and more everyday happiness.
Remember to thank yourself for the universe and vice versa.
"cstar"
P.S., Arizona has the highest poverty rate in the nation, next to Mississippi.
That is not how my life is, or has to be.
Though it is true I have been uncertain of much, confused of much and even had to live through a certain amount of damage, I am still alive, OFTEN feeling pleasure in being alive and able to enjoy what there is around me.
This is possible largely because of copious amounts of support from family and friends and the fact that I am not as far from being an average human being as I would like to believe. I feel many emotions that I have not adequately expressed or described here that deeply affect how I live and my outlook on myself and the future.
One example of a different approach I want to take is the part money plays here and in my life. I know that money is a very basic concern of mine. I hope to make it less so. I also hope to stop making it an issue in my relations with others. You don't deserve my throwing any more shit at you than you are already taking.
There's a lot of wonder, a lot of joy, there's a lot of beauty that I still hope to share, even in this blog, if possible. If you are going to read my earlier posts I invite you to read them with the knowledge that the writer is prone to extremism and great expectations that don't always lead to easy intercourse with the rest of the world. (Literally: I wanted to set up a tent in Central Park and be the Whore of Babylon -- open for business to all. This was more than fifteen years ago, and that desire still influences my thinking.) LOL!
A little bit of ease goes a long way toward making me comfortable with some of the harsher realities and supposed realities. I should say that I often try to embrace them as a way to escape from them. The Road of Excess leads to the Palace of Wisdom, etc.
I think I'm a lot closer to being somewhere on the steps leading to that Palace rather than dragging myself and you through the mud and sharp stones on the way there.
That's the good stuff.
So, where am I at THIS moment?
There's good and there's bad in everything.
I know that I can live and feel; give and be real.
I just want to be known.
So, if you want to know me, I invite you to keep reading this blog, which I hope will expand to something with less abstract pain and more everyday happiness.
Remember to thank yourself for the universe and vice versa.
"cstar"
P.S., Arizona has the highest poverty rate in the nation, next to Mississippi.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
A spurred nerd
I'm waiting for a potential date to call me who picked me up while I was out for a walk, "looking sad." He asked what I liked doing, and I said I've done all kinds of things but now I just want to "relax."
I like changing myself so I can be a bitch.
The bitch that I am loves feeling friendly. I also like being good.
I can be good. I can feel hopeful. I can like knowing that I am interesting.
My own life needs some help. I need to answer love for the pain I have made. I must let go of that pain.
I am a big person, not a dark shit.
I am happy.
Flow is change;
Mother is feelings;
Babies can love.
I do like hope.
A flow that meets pain will live for bitch.
Being afraid of being wrong is terrible.
I do create Julia to love feeling good.
As gift, I do live for her.
Money pretends to love. Money strikes change for killing.
My way of knowing what to like as a woman is to change.
I am feeling dark. I am feeling cold.
It's not good to make love as a nerd.
It's not good to love being a whore.
Taking life is making change painful.
I prefer to love as my creator, the Goddess, was a flow.
I know she was happy to be a lover.
I like being friendly, loving and gentle.
Please allow there life.
I am hopeful.
A tuck is messy. A life is a way to be a home to life.
P.S.
I am teaching life so I will be flow.
Me a nerd.
A baby teaches that there is a mess.
I like changing myself so I can be a bitch.
The bitch that I am loves feeling friendly. I also like being good.
I can be good. I can feel hopeful. I can like knowing that I am interesting.
My own life needs some help. I need to answer love for the pain I have made. I must let go of that pain.
I am a big person, not a dark shit.
I am happy.
Flow is change;
Mother is feelings;
Babies can love.
I do like hope.
A flow that meets pain will live for bitch.
Being afraid of being wrong is terrible.
I do create Julia to love feeling good.
As gift, I do live for her.
Money pretends to love. Money strikes change for killing.
My way of knowing what to like as a woman is to change.
I am feeling dark. I am feeling cold.
It's not good to make love as a nerd.
It's not good to love being a whore.
Taking life is making change painful.
I prefer to love as my creator, the Goddess, was a flow.
I know she was happy to be a lover.
I like being friendly, loving and gentle.
Please allow there life.
I am hopeful.
A tuck is messy. A life is a way to be a home to life.
P.S.
I am teaching life so I will be flow.
Me a nerd.
A baby teaches that there is a mess.
Monday, September 27, 2010
A way to rest
U.S. liberalism claims constantly to promote freedom around the world. There are a nauseating number of examples of U.S. government actions that contradict this.
Apparently U.S. imperialism is making itself felt once again internally in the recent raids in the Midwest, California and North Carolina.
To me, it is very important to clearly understand why these actions have occurred now, in order to better grasp the political terms on which the U.S. government is acting, and the nature of the Obama administration with respect to security forces and to democratic aspirations of people in the U.S. and elsewhere.
To state the obvious, the "anti-terror" mission seems to be becoming an arm of broad policies which aim against any actions -- even actions of U.S. citizens that don't involve terror in the sense of anti- U.S. civilian attacks -- which counter U.S. government foreign policy priorities. This brings home the question that Iraqis and Afghanis have faced since the great broadening of the anti-terrorist campaigns that have taken place since 9/11: who is most to be feared, the U.S. government or its "enemies"?
News media have sometimes focused on the corruption and power-seeking factionalism taking place within countries which are hosts to U.S. influence. However, they do not take a broad view in which corruption and power-seeking in this country are part of, and even mainstays of such behavior worldwide. The fact is that the powerless many are subject to the powerful few everywhere.
American military power, American economic power, and American political power are all avenues via which social elites in America work with social elites elsewhere to, as it were, "keep down the multitudes."
Now, within this perspective, the fact is that the U.S. ruling class, its "enemies" and its allies, are precisely the same people. There are shifts of factions, there are changes in bargaining power and even outright conflict among them, but basically they are all people who live off the labor of others. As a social group, they constitute a reality within human biology. They may identify themselves as commanders, employers, leaders, experts, etc., but they are all the ones who offer terms to other people which condition the lives they are allowed to live. In short, they are the owners of other people, whether through physical coercion, the wage mechanism, intellectual domination and confusion or otherwise.
They are the ones who divide to conquer.
From this perspective, they are all ultimately to be feared, and that is, in practice, their strategy: rule through fear and intimidation.
The suicide bombers, the paramilitaries, the nationally oppressed, the militarily occupied, the fiery opposition to U.S. domination, MAY OR MAY NOT fall within this category. It is impossible to know them for who they are without observing their actions AND their motives. At bottom, it is the lovelessness, their emotional and personal sterility which define them.
Labor is an act of love for others, not primarily an economic category.
I don't believe that under these circumstances that an analysis of any kind can work. The love for your neighbor is the bedrock of community, of action for change. This love is not bounded by any political definition.
So how does this relate to the F.B.I. raids on political activists in the here and now?
Tensions that I have relied upon and created in order to distract myself and others from my own culpability do not make me truthful.
I like the way that change makes people teach good. It's better to know that feelings make life strong. I feel that I can be strong. The strong are gentle, and I need to live for that kindness that only I can give.
I do not believe that strength to my home can bring the Goddess hope.
Feeding on change is perilous. Crackheads do not make friends treat them like the Goddess.
I need love. I know that feeling of wanting friends.
The F.B.I. does not free my mind or my hopes. Loss is making me feel that I helped too much to pretend that I made good for my friendships.
There is no understanding that pretension is fucked up. Dread the people who fear change.
Change will win, not pretense.
Men that make cruelty are playing change as a way to free love for their truth. I believe that my mother is doing what I bet she wanted, and that is, making hope for me and for love.
I have taken cruel advantage. The F.B.I. must ask why it needs to think it is protecting life when no one needs friendships to be poison.
Make change, not pain.
Make yourself the one who gives: solidarity makes flow president; pissed creativity is no one's pest. I want a fool to know that change makes failure happen and darkness.
Know that a guidance for strong life is bringing charges because the Goddess finds mothers home.
No friends make fear a gentle flow.
There's no congeniality when change is made as tough.
All sides turn to love.
Apparently U.S. imperialism is making itself felt once again internally in the recent raids in the Midwest, California and North Carolina.
To me, it is very important to clearly understand why these actions have occurred now, in order to better grasp the political terms on which the U.S. government is acting, and the nature of the Obama administration with respect to security forces and to democratic aspirations of people in the U.S. and elsewhere.
To state the obvious, the "anti-terror" mission seems to be becoming an arm of broad policies which aim against any actions -- even actions of U.S. citizens that don't involve terror in the sense of anti- U.S. civilian attacks -- which counter U.S. government foreign policy priorities. This brings home the question that Iraqis and Afghanis have faced since the great broadening of the anti-terrorist campaigns that have taken place since 9/11: who is most to be feared, the U.S. government or its "enemies"?
News media have sometimes focused on the corruption and power-seeking factionalism taking place within countries which are hosts to U.S. influence. However, they do not take a broad view in which corruption and power-seeking in this country are part of, and even mainstays of such behavior worldwide. The fact is that the powerless many are subject to the powerful few everywhere.
American military power, American economic power, and American political power are all avenues via which social elites in America work with social elites elsewhere to, as it were, "keep down the multitudes."
Now, within this perspective, the fact is that the U.S. ruling class, its "enemies" and its allies, are precisely the same people. There are shifts of factions, there are changes in bargaining power and even outright conflict among them, but basically they are all people who live off the labor of others. As a social group, they constitute a reality within human biology. They may identify themselves as commanders, employers, leaders, experts, etc., but they are all the ones who offer terms to other people which condition the lives they are allowed to live. In short, they are the owners of other people, whether through physical coercion, the wage mechanism, intellectual domination and confusion or otherwise.
They are the ones who divide to conquer.
From this perspective, they are all ultimately to be feared, and that is, in practice, their strategy: rule through fear and intimidation.
The suicide bombers, the paramilitaries, the nationally oppressed, the militarily occupied, the fiery opposition to U.S. domination, MAY OR MAY NOT fall within this category. It is impossible to know them for who they are without observing their actions AND their motives. At bottom, it is the lovelessness, their emotional and personal sterility which define them.
Labor is an act of love for others, not primarily an economic category.
I don't believe that under these circumstances that an analysis of any kind can work. The love for your neighbor is the bedrock of community, of action for change. This love is not bounded by any political definition.
So how does this relate to the F.B.I. raids on political activists in the here and now?
Tensions that I have relied upon and created in order to distract myself and others from my own culpability do not make me truthful.
I like the way that change makes people teach good. It's better to know that feelings make life strong. I feel that I can be strong. The strong are gentle, and I need to live for that kindness that only I can give.
I do not believe that strength to my home can bring the Goddess hope.
Feeding on change is perilous. Crackheads do not make friends treat them like the Goddess.
I need love. I know that feeling of wanting friends.
The F.B.I. does not free my mind or my hopes. Loss is making me feel that I helped too much to pretend that I made good for my friendships.
There is no understanding that pretension is fucked up. Dread the people who fear change.
Change will win, not pretense.
Men that make cruelty are playing change as a way to free love for their truth. I believe that my mother is doing what I bet she wanted, and that is, making hope for me and for love.
I have taken cruel advantage. The F.B.I. must ask why it needs to think it is protecting life when no one needs friendships to be poison.
Make change, not pain.
Make yourself the one who gives: solidarity makes flow president; pissed creativity is no one's pest. I want a fool to know that change makes failure happen and darkness.
Know that a guidance for strong life is bringing charges because the Goddess finds mothers home.
No friends make fear a gentle flow.
There's no congeniality when change is made as tough.
All sides turn to love.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Home is dusted
Fuck,
pussy
pig
pig
pussy
What am I?
A pig
A pussy
A pussy
A pig
Awkward, anger, hatred for the overseer
Mother, mother, feelings are changing
Another way of knowing that I freely know love.
Patience, good.
Mothers, friendly.
Must focus on, why friendly, why Mother(s).
My friends don't like my girlfriend, money.
She creates no one.
She makes crack.
Another way to understand what love gives:
Patience -- goddess, listen! -- passion, friendship and flow
I fly at you
I ask love
I charge life
I am a hoer.
Patience, a flow; test ward of flow.
Annoying, structural, crossed: poor, slow, deadly.
Crash of friendships; crash of life; crash of trumpets.
Kindness makes change friendly.
Pagan
Shy
Bossed
I love you. You are her friend.
Patience, Messy, Poor.
pussy
pig
pig
pussy
What am I?
A pig
A pussy
A pussy
A pig
Awkward, anger, hatred for the overseer
Mother, mother, feelings are changing
Another way of knowing that I freely know love.
Patience, good.
Mothers, friendly.
Must focus on, why friendly, why Mother(s).
My friends don't like my girlfriend, money.
She creates no one.
She makes crack.
Another way to understand what love gives:
Patience -- goddess, listen! -- passion, friendship and flow
I fly at you
I ask love
I charge life
I am a hoer.
Patience, a flow; test ward of flow.
Annoying, structural, crossed: poor, slow, deadly.
Crash of friendships; crash of life; crash of trumpets.
Kindness makes change friendly.
Pagan
Shy
Bossed
I love you. You are her friend.
Patience, Messy, Poor.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Lenses of presence
Adoring good at the expense of everything else is a sure way in my view to give up one's humanity to the voracious heavenly host. Passion and feelings of home can free one to create a life without embracing absolute good.
Relationship between good and hate. Good that is in denial of love and of the body, in other words, righteousness is akin to and may have a similar source as hate. For me, I sense hate radiating from my innards, my very guts, while "good" is a kind of feeling of rigidity in my posture, my musculature, my eyes, as well as in my mind. I love to relax out of that feeling to discover what is provoking it. Right now, that would be tension about feelings that are a little messy. I submit to you that I can be gentle and compassionate; however, I am trying to be a "success." That involves in the ruling Platonic standard a kind of omniscience which cannot exist and an, again, inhuman omnipotence. There is a struggle there.
Bark, friends, chase, another time is fear and consociation/ality.
Or Goddess changes and change rests.
I treat myself like I'm creeping. After this, I'm going to direct love towards the Goddess.
Thank you for this day and every day.
Yours, c*
Relationship between good and hate. Good that is in denial of love and of the body, in other words, righteousness is akin to and may have a similar source as hate. For me, I sense hate radiating from my innards, my very guts, while "good" is a kind of feeling of rigidity in my posture, my musculature, my eyes, as well as in my mind. I love to relax out of that feeling to discover what is provoking it. Right now, that would be tension about feelings that are a little messy. I submit to you that I can be gentle and compassionate; however, I am trying to be a "success." That involves in the ruling Platonic standard a kind of omniscience which cannot exist and an, again, inhuman omnipotence. There is a struggle there.
Bark, friends, chase, another time is fear and consociation/ality.
Or Goddess changes and change rests.
I treat myself like I'm creeping. After this, I'm going to direct love towards the Goddess.
Thank you for this day and every day.
Yours, c*
Wish and wobble
Why ever would I write when I write the kinds of things I do?
If life consists of routine then what is it I can accomplish by dissecting/dilating the components of being as what is below or underneath life as most people must live it. I suppose some people may choose their lives. I don't know what exactly that means. I choose words, or I choose among words that suggest themselves to me based on the utterances of my self, which is my life without prior definition by myself or others. What does that mean? It means abandoning categories, variables, aspects, absolutes, numbers, structures, "teams", polarities, analyses, constructions, etc., etc., for sources, origins, unities/diversities (ah, another one I've got to work on), the felt, the buried, the impulse [Ed.: the kind, the gentle].
Then I can say,
Tell me why you need good to feel?
I need good to feel because it seems to provide a stable reference by which I can measure myself as I feel.
Not good enough. No measures allowed. Abandon good.
Then I may say: Toss and turn, boss and burn, what 'tis, is Ms.
That's patently untrue.
["Loss and Learn"]
If life consists of routine then what is it I can accomplish by dissecting/dilating the components of being as what is below or underneath life as most people must live it. I suppose some people may choose their lives. I don't know what exactly that means. I choose words, or I choose among words that suggest themselves to me based on the utterances of my self, which is my life without prior definition by myself or others. What does that mean? It means abandoning categories, variables, aspects, absolutes, numbers, structures, "teams", polarities, analyses, constructions, etc., etc., for sources, origins, unities/diversities (ah, another one I've got to work on), the felt, the buried, the impulse [Ed.: the kind, the gentle].
Then I can say,
Tell me why you need good to feel?
I need good to feel because it seems to provide a stable reference by which I can measure myself as I feel.
Not good enough. No measures allowed. Abandon good.
Then I may say: Toss and turn, boss and burn, what 'tis, is Ms.
That's patently untrue.
["Loss and Learn"]
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Rats
Fact(s) of life(s):
What kind of feelings made me know that there was no pain in the Goddess?
Maybe I can't tell you what I wanted.
Today [is the greatest I've ever known] -- on the radio (WDST)
Morons free for change
A dry fly parks home and dies
Winter flies to girls who want mothers
Lara cried based
Another change for Goddess
Another bitch to con
My friends do need stabilization
Anchors and friendship stay creative
Bother
A virtue of parsons
Calm is not con
Praise your friends to love mothers
Anger is peace
A moth tried to God
A darling of warrior me
My wars against whore
My knowledge to win
A starer said give
A bent sexy whore dead
My conviction was to lie
My knowledge was to fold
Another woman who knows death
Men can dry vultures to lie
Vessels of cartoons teach me
A girl to life
A pissed liar is brought home
A folded pest conned Julia whore
A mother of freedom
A creep of prostitution
Many teach Goddesses love
Many teach babies pain
I know that change wanted girls
Baby what can there feel whore
Dry fuck is pain
A way to hope is me
I know that you can live
I know that Love feels as a woman hopes and rites
People do good when they are feeling happy
People do love for the babies and life
Creative is the pain
Clients teach pork
I know for the changed
Baby what is dish?
Golden bowers
Nothing
Goddesses be best to me
Babies share love as Julia's mess
And that is you.
Flaws
Me
Peck
Tim
My
Flaws
Change
Many
Draw
Girl
Stefanie
Might
Find
Glove
Sexy
Butch
Likes
Prostitutes
Me
Am
Pep
Gloves
Have
Men
Mighty
Blotted
Pissed
Club
Me
Charged
Boy
Home
Vultures
Deaf
Maids
Charge
Stefanie
Sexy
Drugs
Bid
Cruelty
I now love George
Cows on Gifts
Me can hope to be
Me like dark her
For us, dark is cap
Force us me
Never be deaf
Never be stiff
Never know calm
Never know money
I take foam as money
I slay parts to foam
Poetry is bitch
Me can find nerd
And that's feelings
Nervous
I did what I had to do because that's what I wanted.
Pee mothers are a foam of nuggets.
Ask you mother now
Ask you mother do
Ask you mother be
Plethora of rhyme
What kind of feelings made me know that there was no pain in the Goddess?
Maybe I can't tell you what I wanted.
Today [is the greatest I've ever known] -- on the radio (WDST)
Morons free for change
A dry fly parks home and dies
Winter flies to girls who want mothers
Lara cried based
Another change for Goddess
Another bitch to con
My friends do need stabilization
Anchors and friendship stay creative
Bother
A virtue of parsons
Calm is not con
Praise your friends to love mothers
Anger is peace
A moth tried to God
A darling of warrior me
My wars against whore
My knowledge to win
A starer said give
A bent sexy whore dead
My conviction was to lie
My knowledge was to fold
Another woman who knows death
Men can dry vultures to lie
Vessels of cartoons teach me
A girl to life
A pissed liar is brought home
A folded pest conned Julia whore
A mother of freedom
A creep of prostitution
Many teach Goddesses love
Many teach babies pain
I know that change wanted girls
Baby what can there feel whore
Dry fuck is pain
A way to hope is me
I know that you can live
I know that Love feels as a woman hopes and rites
People do good when they are feeling happy
People do love for the babies and life
Creative is the pain
Clients teach pork
I know for the changed
Baby what is dish?
Golden bowers
Nothing
Goddesses be best to me
Babies share love as Julia's mess
And that is you.
Flaws
Me
Peck
Tim
My
Flaws
Change
Many
Draw
Girl
Stefanie
Might
Find
Glove
Sexy
Butch
Likes
Prostitutes
Me
Am
Pep
Gloves
Have
Men
Mighty
Blotted
Pissed
Club
Me
Charged
Boy
Home
Vultures
Deaf
Maids
Charge
Stefanie
Sexy
Drugs
Bid
Cruelty
I now love George
Cows on Gifts
Me can hope to be
Me like dark her
For us, dark is cap
Force us me
Never be deaf
Never be stiff
Never know calm
Never know money
I take foam as money
I slay parts to foam
Poetry is bitch
Me can find nerd
And that's feelings
Nervous
I did what I had to do because that's what I wanted.
Pee mothers are a foam of nuggets.
Ask you mother now
Ask you mother do
Ask you mother be
Plethora of rhyme
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Disjuncture
You, my readers, may have noticed that often my writings read chaotically to the point of near nonsense. This is the way my deepest feelings, at least the ones to which words can even apply, evince themselves in my mind. They are weird, they are disturbing. They have no coherence. There are times I do not limit the direction or content of my writing in order that I may be able to sense emotions underneath the fear, cynicism, doubt and anxiety which cloud my view of them. Perhaps it is a kind of fetishism to think that if I write the words that thereby come to my mind that there will be a direct communication from the innermost of myself to the innermost of yourself. Perhaps there has to be some kind of intellectual or artistic intervention to make these words comprehensible to you. I don't know (and of course you're not telling me.)
Having said this, I would like to add that there is a further disjuncture between intent and result in my mind and in my emotional self-knowledge. I am trying to reach for my own humanity in order to make decisions about who and what I am so that I can live the life I need to live, which, I hope, I was meant to live. According to my therapist, because I'm transgendered, I never left adolescent confusion behind. Now I have some question as to whether it is desirable to totally abandon confusion, but in any case I am now dealing with some of the same kinds of questions that I originally approached by passively following what seemed rewarded by family or school or by a sort of dreamy, detached, idealized wishing for what was either impossible and unrealistic or what was irrelevant to needs I had but ignored and of which I was often ignorant.
I am trying to be friendly. How can these words accomplish this goal? I feel like I was trying too hard to be so, but I had to, because I strive to love.
I am not crack.
Please let me love you.
I like it.
I've been really a little afraid.
I cried at being a loser.
Love me?
At any rate, I can listen. I changed to love, not to strike.
Maybe you will like what there is and I'll try my best to listen to myself understand what that is.
Eat, please.
It's been done.
Foolish, dark, strong.
Indentured affections.
Clean but rusty.
Now I can organize myself.
Next: Priorities?
I've got to clean the bathroom and wash my clothes and pick up some new meds and pick up this room and make my mother understand that I am sensible.
I've got to get going.
It's been done.
It's been done.
Please do love as a way for you to be nice.
So many misconceptions, still.
I'll try, anyway (to stop hating).
Having said this, I would like to add that there is a further disjuncture between intent and result in my mind and in my emotional self-knowledge. I am trying to reach for my own humanity in order to make decisions about who and what I am so that I can live the life I need to live, which, I hope, I was meant to live. According to my therapist, because I'm transgendered, I never left adolescent confusion behind. Now I have some question as to whether it is desirable to totally abandon confusion, but in any case I am now dealing with some of the same kinds of questions that I originally approached by passively following what seemed rewarded by family or school or by a sort of dreamy, detached, idealized wishing for what was either impossible and unrealistic or what was irrelevant to needs I had but ignored and of which I was often ignorant.
I am trying to be friendly. How can these words accomplish this goal? I feel like I was trying too hard to be so, but I had to, because I strive to love.
I am not crack.
Please let me love you.
I like it.
I've been really a little afraid.
I cried at being a loser.
Love me?
At any rate, I can listen. I changed to love, not to strike.
Maybe you will like what there is and I'll try my best to listen to myself understand what that is.
Eat, please.
It's been done.
Foolish, dark, strong.
Indentured affections.
Clean but rusty.
Now I can organize myself.
Next: Priorities?
I've got to clean the bathroom and wash my clothes and pick up some new meds and pick up this room and make my mother understand that I am sensible.
I've got to get going.
It's been done.
It's been done.
Please do love as a way for you to be nice.
So many misconceptions, still.
I'll try, anyway (to stop hating).
Saturday, September 18, 2010
cstarmare: topic zero
Sex is good, not bad
Dear Mom,
I have thought that I can't love a whore.
I can.
I was treating myself as being a drug, a bitch, a poem.
I am a flow.
Give and I am loving; love and I am happy.
Laughing to me is my baby.
I said good happiness is feeling shitty.
That's terrible.
A guest of a woman loves change.
Stay loving and delectable, Goddess.
Peace and change
A brick teacher made change good
A feeling woman is her
Moods do give home
Another place for change
A cocksucking change
A nut
Dyke gold
A flow borrowed Julia and just liked loving that bitch.
A mother of feelings did give her a warrior
Me sensible but not Bruce
Tape
Dear Mom,
I have thought that I can't love a whore.
I can.
I was treating myself as being a drug, a bitch, a poem.
I am a flow.
Give and I am loving; love and I am happy.
Laughing to me is my baby.
I said good happiness is feeling shitty.
That's terrible.
A guest of a woman loves change.
Stay loving and delectable, Goddess.
Peace and change
A brick teacher made change good
A feeling woman is her
Moods do give home
Another place for change
A cocksucking change
A nut
Dyke gold
A flow borrowed Julia and just liked loving that bitch.
A mother of feelings did give her a warrior
Me sensible but not Bruce
Tape
Friday, September 17, 2010
People give crazy woman freedom
A lady in pink
Breasts made from my feelings
Chances of time keeping nothing home
A taste of me is keeping love women
My share is teaching cops to see
A woman at the breast saw my best
There's good as target; Tess keeps love money
Money charged living woman to die as dollar crackhead
Tessie made it life for me
Goddess live as Julia's mostly mothered bitch
I cannot kill
Breasts made from my feelings
Chances of time keeping nothing home
A taste of me is keeping love women
My share is teaching cops to see
A woman at the breast saw my best
There's good as target; Tess keeps love money
Money charged living woman to die as dollar crackhead
Tessie made it life for me
Goddess live as Julia's mostly mothered bitch
I cannot kill
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Great Walls of Pain
I apologize to you for deluging you with negative descriptions of myself and my life. It is not only untoward of me to write obsessively and slanderously about me but it is rude and probably demoralizing for you. I am also sick and tired of not getting any comments from you.
Before going any further, I wish to relate to you that yesterday I went to the oral surgeon and of course, prudently, I described my chest pains of earlier this summer. She refused to extract my tooth without a written medical clearance from my cardiologist, whom I have not informed about my pain or the reasons for it. I do not trust either the cardiologist or the oral surgeon to make the correct decisions regarding my life. I looked up the anesthetic that the dentist proposed using, and even though it is a local anesthetic, there is a chance of cardiac arrest and there was a recommendation IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS that the dentist have at her disposal resuscitative equipment, oxygen, etc. Now, I did not see any such equipment at the dental office. Also the cardiologist seems rather cavalier about making available vital information about the condition of my heart, at least to me. Unknown to him, I was able to read the stress test report on me from March and he did not inform me of the majority of the problems I have, including an enlarged portion of my heart and a sclerosed mitral valve. I think it is eminently possible that he will either 1) not understand the need for caution with the anesthetic or 2) simply write the medical clearance as a way to avoid dealing properly with me or the issue. This seems to be a matter of legalities rather than my physical well-being. Knowing all this is depressing in the utmost, since even if I do not have my tooth treated now, it very well may abscess and/or become infected and then I will have no choice but extraction. So my own stupidity has led me to have to confront mortality once again. I prefer, as of now, to wait for my heart to become stronger over the next 3-6 months, at least before I have any procedure done, including a gastroscopy scheduled for next month.
Of course, given my cardiac condition, any procedure is more or less dangerous for me, so I'm living on the edge whether I want to or not. I feel like a much older person having fewer and fewer choices about needed life-saving treatments.
I won't know how serious this all is until I take another stress test or the cardiologist suggests some other tests. Until then I am mortified and petrified.
What I was going to write about was the building of walls of pain in order to deny to others the validity of their lives, which I think accounts for some of the psychology of Christian, especially fundamentalist, leaders and congregants. After all, wasn't Christ a God of Pain, worthy because he suffered?
I know that I have locked myself into a state of pain over the years, overtly to benefit others. After all, if I take on someone else's pain, am I not acting to benefit someone else, and therefore showing my self to be worthy(er)?
I think that spiritualities of self-denial and self-abnegation share these characteristics of shutting out the realities of other people's lives in order to save them and oneself. perhaps this is too obvious even to mention, but I needed to write it down myself. All I know is that I need an alternative way that does not involve self-destruction or a grotesque seense of superiority following from it. The trouble I am having is going within to find something to replace it. I know the Goddess is there, but she is so deeply buried beneath the4 damage I have caused myself that everyday I have to search for her before I can act/live. I am still clinging to a political take on myself that leaves little room for human frailty and love. I need to hope.
I feel like a big pussy, without even liking it. I give love. I will good times. I have to expand my awareness of myself and others to acknowledge the Goddess for herself: she's home, she's the teacher and the world. She's loving and always present; she's the change and the hope.
May you live for her.
A heifer that chooses life over fists.
Angles are:
Part, Julia, Bitch
Before going any further, I wish to relate to you that yesterday I went to the oral surgeon and of course, prudently, I described my chest pains of earlier this summer. She refused to extract my tooth without a written medical clearance from my cardiologist, whom I have not informed about my pain or the reasons for it. I do not trust either the cardiologist or the oral surgeon to make the correct decisions regarding my life. I looked up the anesthetic that the dentist proposed using, and even though it is a local anesthetic, there is a chance of cardiac arrest and there was a recommendation IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS that the dentist have at her disposal resuscitative equipment, oxygen, etc. Now, I did not see any such equipment at the dental office. Also the cardiologist seems rather cavalier about making available vital information about the condition of my heart, at least to me. Unknown to him, I was able to read the stress test report on me from March and he did not inform me of the majority of the problems I have, including an enlarged portion of my heart and a sclerosed mitral valve. I think it is eminently possible that he will either 1) not understand the need for caution with the anesthetic or 2) simply write the medical clearance as a way to avoid dealing properly with me or the issue. This seems to be a matter of legalities rather than my physical well-being. Knowing all this is depressing in the utmost, since even if I do not have my tooth treated now, it very well may abscess and/or become infected and then I will have no choice but extraction. So my own stupidity has led me to have to confront mortality once again. I prefer, as of now, to wait for my heart to become stronger over the next 3-6 months, at least before I have any procedure done, including a gastroscopy scheduled for next month.
Of course, given my cardiac condition, any procedure is more or less dangerous for me, so I'm living on the edge whether I want to or not. I feel like a much older person having fewer and fewer choices about needed life-saving treatments.
I won't know how serious this all is until I take another stress test or the cardiologist suggests some other tests. Until then I am mortified and petrified.
What I was going to write about was the building of walls of pain in order to deny to others the validity of their lives, which I think accounts for some of the psychology of Christian, especially fundamentalist, leaders and congregants. After all, wasn't Christ a God of Pain, worthy because he suffered?
I know that I have locked myself into a state of pain over the years, overtly to benefit others. After all, if I take on someone else's pain, am I not acting to benefit someone else, and therefore showing my self to be worthy(er)?
I think that spiritualities of self-denial and self-abnegation share these characteristics of shutting out the realities of other people's lives in order to save them and oneself. perhaps this is too obvious even to mention, but I needed to write it down myself. All I know is that I need an alternative way that does not involve self-destruction or a grotesque seense of superiority following from it. The trouble I am having is going within to find something to replace it. I know the Goddess is there, but she is so deeply buried beneath the4 damage I have caused myself that everyday I have to search for her before I can act/live. I am still clinging to a political take on myself that leaves little room for human frailty and love. I need to hope.
I feel like a big pussy, without even liking it. I give love. I will good times. I have to expand my awareness of myself and others to acknowledge the Goddess for herself: she's home, she's the teacher and the world. She's loving and always present; she's the change and the hope.
May you live for her.
A heifer that chooses life over fists.
Angles are:
Part, Julia, Bitch
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
An escape into the reader
Grinding down the words to zero --\
What anticipation and joy do I feel upon embarking on a sentence which no end may ruin as a source of pleasure to my finely attuned wit and sensibility?
There is none other than the exceedingly small grinding of the constituent letters and words in all their grammatical and syntactical diversity against the hopes and dreams that inhabit me and which wish to jump through my fingers onto the screen.
I know without a doub t that whatever I say will emerge as a flatulent, otiose set of verbiage nothing like the subtle, beautiful and even instructive thoughts which I bear within me.
For instance, who could say, other than me, that I am Julia Brigid Murray, a transsexual graduate of Stanford and a life of drugs and p-rostitution,. >
I know that somehow these aspects of my education mesh, that somehow they match each other and are even succored by each other.
Still, there are words and more words vying to spill through my fingertips. But they forget to whisper to mne their nature or theire own desires and how they may relate to mine. I want themn to know me and respect mne, but do I know or respect them?
It is not for me to detrmine the reception of these thoughts; you may howver, feel a certain creepinjg coating climbing up your feet towards your throat. That is mek trying to convince you that I am here, purposed, with drive and needs for recognition, but nonetheless a sticky sort of moss that oine wishes to wash off as soon as one can.
People love a rendering such as this has made.
What anticipation and joy do I feel upon embarking on a sentence which no end may ruin as a source of pleasure to my finely attuned wit and sensibility?
There is none other than the exceedingly small grinding of the constituent letters and words in all their grammatical and syntactical diversity against the hopes and dreams that inhabit me and which wish to jump through my fingers onto the screen.
I know without a doub t that whatever I say will emerge as a flatulent, otiose set of verbiage nothing like the subtle, beautiful and even instructive thoughts which I bear within me.
For instance, who could say, other than me, that I am Julia Brigid Murray, a transsexual graduate of Stanford and a life of drugs and p-rostitution,. >
I know that somehow these aspects of my education mesh, that somehow they match each other and are even succored by each other.
Still, there are words and more words vying to spill through my fingertips. But they forget to whisper to mne their nature or theire own desires and how they may relate to mine. I want themn to know me and respect mne, but do I know or respect them?
It is not for me to detrmine the reception of these thoughts; you may howver, feel a certain creepinjg coating climbing up your feet towards your throat. That is mek trying to convince you that I am here, purposed, with drive and needs for recognition, but nonetheless a sticky sort of moss that oine wishes to wash off as soon as one can.
People love a rendering such as this has made.
Why
If I teach you my life, will I say, why oh why?
To share :
Answer me, how did you decide to live?
I decided to give help, uh, change that.
I decided to give love.
People like to want what they somewhat need.
I am living in a way that will feel like friendship to me.
Feelings
I made myself flow by love.
Since I am good, why do I feel like I'm stupid?
Underneath the wrappings, which are changed into curtains, draperies, thick hanging membranes of flesh, I am fucked? fruit? mother? fussed.
Caping, chasing, trust, woman.
Being loving
Cop told me to give him something. I told him to be a nothing.
I stopped giving love and wanted his fool/d
Capital handling of strength.
My sexiness will fall into no one's hair.
My sharing will try to be a joke.
Answers:
People can love but not with a mother of charging.
Don't tell anyone your life is troubled.
Don't let people give you help.
Mostly, don't want hell as a fuck,.
Can one use melee as a verb?
Is there a way to know that God/dess tries to be here?
The Goddess was as the presence of the moon that night I was reading Anne Sexton in the room next to the publisher at Central House.
The Goddess was compassion for the world the night I took her place for a few seconds at my place with Nathan. (747 Park Avenue, Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York, NY).
And you do want home.
I mostly change as change likes laughter.
You have helped me.
That's what I had to say.
Maybe you will feel happy today.
To share :
Answer me, how did you decide to live?
I decided to give help, uh, change that.
I decided to give love.
People like to want what they somewhat need.
I am living in a way that will feel like friendship to me.
Feelings
I made myself flow by love.
Since I am good, why do I feel like I'm stupid?
Underneath the wrappings, which are changed into curtains, draperies, thick hanging membranes of flesh, I am fucked? fruit? mother? fussed.
Caping, chasing, trust, woman.
Being loving
Cop told me to give him something. I told him to be a nothing.
I stopped giving love and wanted his fool/d
Capital handling of strength.
My sexiness will fall into no one's hair.
My sharing will try to be a joke.
Answers:
People can love but not with a mother of charging.
Don't tell anyone your life is troubled.
Don't let people give you help.
Mostly, don't want hell as a fuck,.
Can one use melee as a verb?
Is there a way to know that God/dess tries to be here?
The Goddess was as the presence of the moon that night I was reading Anne Sexton in the room next to the publisher at Central House.
The Goddess was compassion for the world the night I took her place for a few seconds at my place with Nathan. (747 Park Avenue, Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York, NY).
And you do want home.
I mostly change as change likes laughter.
You have helped me.
That's what I had to say.
Maybe you will feel happy today.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
go and give shift
Majorly
Antelope
I would have to change to write love.
And?
Boycer bestin change what change conned is cruel
and feelings feel cruel
Make me do love
A good home is a good frost
A good place is a good mother
A good woman is like being a lover
Make me change good: it's mom who loves hope
I am doing what you asked: Being flow.
Market system
System market
Poison dark
Dark poison
Another failure of change.
Money cops rose but farce begs to love
Tragedy comic asks for money as life
Keep love interested and I give money to dish.
Boys is trust; life is a good ham
And Joey God pent sharing flow money asked sharing whore to pay girl.
As dry flaw costs me, is there julia's force?
Measure for measure
Neat and sexy
Egg pays jars money
Egg makes jars feel
Darkness changes drama
Darkness adds love
Darkness likes a homosexual life
People tend to prefer crying like a fork
I am veiling guests.
They are:
Many.
Run to bargain
Women trade darkness for tough
Emil Bronner died for his Goddess
Girl, there's mother and brother and change and dry.
Triumph cares for gaze
Antelope
I would have to change to write love.
And?
Boycer bestin change what change conned is cruel
and feelings feel cruel
Make me do love
A good home is a good frost
A good place is a good mother
A good woman is like being a lover
Make me change good: it's mom who loves hope
I am doing what you asked: Being flow.
Market system
System market
Poison dark
Dark poison
Another failure of change.
Money cops rose but farce begs to love
Tragedy comic asks for money as life
Keep love interested and I give money to dish.
Boys is trust; life is a good ham
And Joey God pent sharing flow money asked sharing whore to pay girl.
As dry flaw costs me, is there julia's force?
Measure for measure
Neat and sexy
Egg pays jars money
Egg makes jars feel
Darkness changes drama
Darkness adds love
Darkness likes a homosexual life
People tend to prefer crying like a fork
I am veiling guests.
They are:
Many.
Run to bargain
Women trade darkness for tough
Emil Bronner died for his Goddess
Girl, there's mother and brother and change and dry.
Triumph cares for gaze
Cruelly clear
Dark pisons flash nothing at flow
Sharing money pays porn
A chap bees calm
Stop making love a flow: Sex does make feelings rong.
I've angered the Goddess, and I've fed her.
i've made friends, and said why?
I've made good helps (lost)
Another one is doing good for money
Change life and i'll let myself do Julia's guilt -- millions of fools paid
tilt
A major interest in feelings shows that there's many that can feel woman.
I share you with life.
Sharing money pays porn
A chap bees calm
Stop making love a flow: Sex does make feelings rong.
I've angered the Goddess, and I've fed her.
i've made friends, and said why?
I've made good helps (lost)
Another one is doing good for money
Change life and i'll let myself do Julia's guilt -- millions of fools paid
tilt
A major interest in feelings shows that there's many that can feel woman.
I share you with life.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wise, expansive, literate
Making fame, changing God, being home
Ask bodies Julia
Like feelings helping
The ranch paid crock
Marla was hopeful
I know her
Being controlling angers stars
Making slime makes women.
I love my home
I can share a con
Teach woman Goddess
When her keeps love
Julia likes money
Not forks
I wanted to help a lot
Crack sucks
Toys of haste
Pandora was bossed
I loved fit
Maybe you will know life; maybe you will know a lover
After all, people mother home
The Goddess says help feelings to love blocks
Many times a rug hoped love was bed
My woman paid life for her distance
Crack does fly
Tape
Ask bodies Julia
Like feelings helping
The ranch paid crock
Marla was hopeful
I know her
Being controlling angers stars
Making slime makes women.
I love my home
I can share a con
Teach woman Goddess
When her keeps love
Julia likes money
Not forks
I wanted to help a lot
Crack sucks
Toys of haste
Pandora was bossed
I loved fit
Maybe you will know life; maybe you will know a lover
After all, people mother home
The Goddess says help feelings to love blocks
Many times a rug hoped love was bed
My woman paid life for her distance
Crack does fly
Tape
Sunday, September 12, 2010
I'm doing exactly nothing, so I'm just going to write because I need to write.
Don't ever let anyone think that you are happy unless you really are.
Don't tell people that you can do things you can't do.
Don't sell your friendships for me.
Sell them for good thingsl.
I can do what I need. i can listen. I do have love. i do give.
The pain is coming from why is it that there's so little teaching?
I fucked my chance to be happy with another woman.
I know that there's so painful people.
I am stubborn.
I hope that there'[s a way to be strong and listen for home.
I stock.
I shit.
I pack.
I love moneyl.
People need me to give them friendship so that they'll listen for happiness.
Truth makes fucked up mess.
I need nothing and good.
I need life.
Maybe there'll live someone who can help and listen. I changed because I wanted to live to be a woman.
Feelings make me good.
I feel like I suck.
Strangely fuck is painful. I know.
Treat me like I'm conned.
Same love as I had.
You are maybe; I am paper.
Now you try to be a world of feelings,.
Girls love money.
I prefer life.
Maybe there'll feel good in happiness.
Shavers drive me to be client of pain.
Sharing painfulness is painful.
Craving niceness is helpful.
Help me.
I know you won't.
Feel, be, help
Don't ever let anyone think that you are happy unless you really are.
Don't tell people that you can do things you can't do.
Don't sell your friendships for me.
Sell them for good thingsl.
I can do what I need. i can listen. I do have love. i do give.
The pain is coming from why is it that there's so little teaching?
I fucked my chance to be happy with another woman.
I know that there's so painful people.
I am stubborn.
I hope that there'[s a way to be strong and listen for home.
I stock.
I shit.
I pack.
I love moneyl.
People need me to give them friendship so that they'll listen for happiness.
Truth makes fucked up mess.
I need nothing and good.
I need life.
Maybe there'll live someone who can help and listen. I changed because I wanted to live to be a woman.
Feelings make me good.
I feel like I suck.
Strangely fuck is painful. I know.
Treat me like I'm conned.
Same love as I had.
You are maybe; I am paper.
Now you try to be a world of feelings,.
Girls love money.
I prefer life.
Maybe there'll feel good in happiness.
Shavers drive me to be client of pain.
Sharing painfulness is painful.
Craving niceness is helpful.
Help me.
I know you won't.
Feel, be, help
Saturday, September 11, 2010
9/11
I don't know what life created.
I don't know what love made.
I do know that I can feel better.
I know that change begins with knowledge that change is good ????
What I really want to say is that today says let it be.
And make love strong.
Be nice to your mother.
Love,
c*
I don't know what love made.
I do know that I can feel better.
I know that change begins with knowledge that change is good ????
What I really want to say is that today says let it be.
And make love strong.
Be nice to your mother.
Love,
c*
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Warm and fuzzy
A merry birth of mirthful worth --
A peaceful day of life at play.
In a wood of joyous mood,
Children's eyes that know no lies.
Simple and gay: to be that way,
Ancestral love a softness wove.
A peaceful day of life at play.
In a wood of joyous mood,
Children's eyes that know no lies.
Simple and gay: to be that way,
Ancestral love a softness wove.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Woman Types Change
Ralph Waldo and Julia
Coldness reflecting coldness
Change and fear
Entire feeling: cold.
A home that changed time to pain.
Simply wrought utterances
Fare pain best:
Another entrance to bar
My mother straws pairs;
Me draw aura past me
Another creative fool.
The galaxy fasted to spawn
Many patient cocksuckers.
Another feeling:
Grand teachers pay nothing.
Don't feel like a solaced shark
Alive
Best and nice.
Coldness reflecting coldness
Change and fear
Entire feeling: cold.
A home that changed time to pain.
Simply wrought utterances
Fare pain best:
Another entrance to bar
My mother straws pairs;
Me draw aura past me
Another creative fool.
The galaxy fasted to spawn
Many patient cocksuckers.
Another feeling:
Grand teachers pay nothing.
Don't feel like a solaced shark
Alive
Best and nice.
I am a gift
How much pain can there be?
I know that I need to create, so I'm just going to write, and fuck the consequences.
Sara ample change; ample change tampon
Cock changed change and there's failure
Being JBM interests the Goddess when there's home.
I have chosen to believe that I am strong and that someone will love me.
I can't make that sense of fear the way of being for anyone.
Please answer me. I'm trying to feel.
I strongly wanted to love.
Maybe when you are trying to give someone the only hopes and dreams that you have you will give love with them.
Maybe you need love.
My sense of fear is that I know that you wanted strength and I made sharing painful.
Let me know your sense of hope.
My mother types and I have strength.
I love a whore.
Home tries to answer love as teased.
I was put lovingly to home as rose.
To be "plain," feelings that made me want change were sexy.
I am crazy.
Love, c*mare
I know that I need to create, so I'm just going to write, and fuck the consequences.
Sara ample change; ample change tampon
Cock changed change and there's failure
Being JBM interests the Goddess when there's home.
I have chosen to believe that I am strong and that someone will love me.
I can't make that sense of fear the way of being for anyone.
Please answer me. I'm trying to feel.
I strongly wanted to love.
Maybe when you are trying to give someone the only hopes and dreams that you have you will give love with them.
Maybe you need love.
My sense of fear is that I know that you wanted strength and I made sharing painful.
Let me know your sense of hope.
My mother types and I have strength.
I love a whore.
Home tries to answer love as teased.
I was put lovingly to home as rose.
To be "plain," feelings that made me want change were sexy.
I am crazy.
Love, c*mare
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Extraneous material
Boise issues a surrey cross ting passion mother mother mother mother
A home settles with their change that feelings are taking home
A pairent far a lover near change love to feelings can you fear?
A moment with the Goddess is home to hustling
Gad with me
Gad with you when you change
Stop knowing what you can happen as, and love what you do.
Be loving and help the Goddess.
Change pain into life.
And state you as
prawd dark as kaoll murray
Mother is famous. Mother is change. Mother is conception.
Anger is parents. Mother is knowledge. Julia is stef anie.
Pee on.
A home settles with their change that feelings are taking home
A pairent far a lover near change love to feelings can you fear?
A moment with the Goddess is home to hustling
Gad with me
Gad with you when you change
Stop knowing what you can happen as, and love what you do.
Be loving and help the Goddess.
Change pain into life.
And state you as
prawd dark as kaoll murray
Mother is famous. Mother is change. Mother is conception.
Anger is parents. Mother is knowledge. Julia is stef anie.
Pee on.
It's about 1:15 a.m. here in beautiful Southeast Arizona.
My mother complained the other day that news reports on SB 1070 do not mention all the killings that have happened because of illegal immigrants.
The newspaper quoted some ranchers complaining that border-crossers had stolen their pears.
The New York Times quotes Terry Goddard, the Republican governor's Democratic opponent in this year's election as saying that violent crime is at its lowest level in Arizona since 1983.
How do I reconcile all these facts and points of view with each other?
First, let me confess that I do not know how politics works here except for what little I can glean from the newspapers. I know that people have said that Russell Pearce, the state legislator from Phoenix who for some is behind SB 1070, is beholden to the private prison industry as is Jan Brewer.
I do know that there appears to be endless fanaticism here concerning issues of individual freedom which always seem to mean the private right to commit aggression against unwanted others. I mean by this the laws allowing concealed weapons in, e.g., bars.
I can only report my own feelings and observations and hope they count for something in the eyes of my readers.
There is no doubt to me that the police and politicians made loads of hay from the single killing of a so-called well-known popular rancher named Robert Krentz this spring. There were constant quotes that people who don't live here don't understand the dangers of the border areas.
I live within ten to fifteen miles of the border and I have yet to face a threat by a single illegal immigrant. I don't even know whether I've even seen any.
Now from what I can tell it's not so much what illegal immigrants do that is the problem it's what they represent. They are an affront to law enforcement and their supporters. After all, they break the law. That makes it difficult for people to make the argument that one can a) never break the law without facing "the consequences", b) that drug and human smuggling is not the absolute evil coming from the Mexican people as is here portrayed, or c) make claim to the land as "their own."
This is what is most frightening: the breakdown of Anglo control over this part of the United States. There is fear that poor Mexicans will re-take the land and that Anglos will have to either face Mexican justice or leave.
My mother has an answer for this. She thinks that the government of Mexico ought to take care of its own people. She apparently has no sense of the background of Mexican poverty and its relationship to U.S. interests. I have a little bit better understanding (I believe). Because of the Mexican-American War of 165 years ago, there is a feeling among Mexicans that their country was unjustly truncated, their people dispossessed and their rightful place among nations undercut. This undercutting takes many forms: political, cultural and economic.
I pointed out to my mother that her stance leads to war with Mexico. She seems to have no problem with this. I believe that there is a kind of emotional military-legal nexus that she would call patriotism that is preventing her from understanding what is going on. She equates military "sacrifice" and the sanctity of law and its enforcers.
Now I have broken the law many times on purpose because at times I had to and at times I thought it convenient in order to get what I wanted. I can claim no virtue in this. But I do know from living in New York that the law as it stands is a basis for control of people of color.
This brings me to the most difficult part of writing about these matters. What are my beliefs, feelings and attitudes, and what will I do about them?
Last night I read some of the founding documents of the Chican@ student movement Mecha. It appears that they do not play the race card, that they believe that anyone can develop an indigenous Chican@ mentality. This is the opposite of the way conservative commentators portray such movements for national self-determination. So I know that the conservatives are fear-mongering. But can I in all honesty describe myself as having an indigenous heritage here in this part of the world or do I belong elsewhere? I value European culture, its art , literature, philosophy and religion to a great extent. Can I simply forget that? Is there any reason to abandon some aspects of my background and allegiances in order to make peace? Do the people whose land this may very well be need me to do so in order to make peace with me?
I do not believe that there is a simple answer because though I am not a dyed in the wool racist (thinking others are necessarily inferior to me), I have at some times treated people differently on the basis of their skin color, whether better or worse. This means that I very much need to grow in the ability to accommodate the realities, emotions and beliefs of others. I think that having made a "transition" that challenged my sexism may help me in this. There is no simple answer because the answer really depends on the unknown: my ability to change, to adjust, to acknowledge the humanity of others. I know for a fact that I can but do I do so enough to warrant my "switching sides" as it were and calling for a new indigenous nation in this part of the U.S.? I do not believe the Mexican government is a more just state, though it has less power. I do not believe that the ambitions of drug traffickers to form a "narco - state" is one to which I subscribe. But I do believe that I can communicate enough with people of different backgrounds to negotiate my way to a new understanding. Perhaps I will, as I've had intimations and intuitions of, have to be part of a nomadic tribe that has no permanent settlement because of the sins of my ancestors. Perhaps I will fight to protect my Chican@ neighbors even as I claim my own rights and culture.
Perhaps it's all too late to speculate.
I do not want or need others to be economically, culturally or politically inferior to me. I also like the Bill of Rights. Maybe the answer for me is to assert my individual freedom and interests without reference to the race that others expect from me.
I am friendly. I am hopeful. I am terrified.
Since I have said these things, I hope you will know that the Goddess will bring about Justice according to her will. I believe I deserve love and will have it.
Viva Aztlan! Viva Mexico! Viva America! (without borders)
My mother complained the other day that news reports on SB 1070 do not mention all the killings that have happened because of illegal immigrants.
The newspaper quoted some ranchers complaining that border-crossers had stolen their pears.
The New York Times quotes Terry Goddard, the Republican governor's Democratic opponent in this year's election as saying that violent crime is at its lowest level in Arizona since 1983.
How do I reconcile all these facts and points of view with each other?
First, let me confess that I do not know how politics works here except for what little I can glean from the newspapers. I know that people have said that Russell Pearce, the state legislator from Phoenix who for some is behind SB 1070, is beholden to the private prison industry as is Jan Brewer.
I do know that there appears to be endless fanaticism here concerning issues of individual freedom which always seem to mean the private right to commit aggression against unwanted others. I mean by this the laws allowing concealed weapons in, e.g., bars.
I can only report my own feelings and observations and hope they count for something in the eyes of my readers.
There is no doubt to me that the police and politicians made loads of hay from the single killing of a so-called well-known popular rancher named Robert Krentz this spring. There were constant quotes that people who don't live here don't understand the dangers of the border areas.
I live within ten to fifteen miles of the border and I have yet to face a threat by a single illegal immigrant. I don't even know whether I've even seen any.
Now from what I can tell it's not so much what illegal immigrants do that is the problem it's what they represent. They are an affront to law enforcement and their supporters. After all, they break the law. That makes it difficult for people to make the argument that one can a) never break the law without facing "the consequences", b) that drug and human smuggling is not the absolute evil coming from the Mexican people as is here portrayed, or c) make claim to the land as "their own."
This is what is most frightening: the breakdown of Anglo control over this part of the United States. There is fear that poor Mexicans will re-take the land and that Anglos will have to either face Mexican justice or leave.
My mother has an answer for this. She thinks that the government of Mexico ought to take care of its own people. She apparently has no sense of the background of Mexican poverty and its relationship to U.S. interests. I have a little bit better understanding (I believe). Because of the Mexican-American War of 165 years ago, there is a feeling among Mexicans that their country was unjustly truncated, their people dispossessed and their rightful place among nations undercut. This undercutting takes many forms: political, cultural and economic.
I pointed out to my mother that her stance leads to war with Mexico. She seems to have no problem with this. I believe that there is a kind of emotional military-legal nexus that she would call patriotism that is preventing her from understanding what is going on. She equates military "sacrifice" and the sanctity of law and its enforcers.
Now I have broken the law many times on purpose because at times I had to and at times I thought it convenient in order to get what I wanted. I can claim no virtue in this. But I do know from living in New York that the law as it stands is a basis for control of people of color.
This brings me to the most difficult part of writing about these matters. What are my beliefs, feelings and attitudes, and what will I do about them?
Last night I read some of the founding documents of the Chican@ student movement Mecha. It appears that they do not play the race card, that they believe that anyone can develop an indigenous Chican@ mentality. This is the opposite of the way conservative commentators portray such movements for national self-determination. So I know that the conservatives are fear-mongering. But can I in all honesty describe myself as having an indigenous heritage here in this part of the world or do I belong elsewhere? I value European culture, its art , literature, philosophy and religion to a great extent. Can I simply forget that? Is there any reason to abandon some aspects of my background and allegiances in order to make peace? Do the people whose land this may very well be need me to do so in order to make peace with me?
I do not believe that there is a simple answer because though I am not a dyed in the wool racist (thinking others are necessarily inferior to me), I have at some times treated people differently on the basis of their skin color, whether better or worse. This means that I very much need to grow in the ability to accommodate the realities, emotions and beliefs of others. I think that having made a "transition" that challenged my sexism may help me in this. There is no simple answer because the answer really depends on the unknown: my ability to change, to adjust, to acknowledge the humanity of others. I know for a fact that I can but do I do so enough to warrant my "switching sides" as it were and calling for a new indigenous nation in this part of the U.S.? I do not believe the Mexican government is a more just state, though it has less power. I do not believe that the ambitions of drug traffickers to form a "narco - state" is one to which I subscribe. But I do believe that I can communicate enough with people of different backgrounds to negotiate my way to a new understanding. Perhaps I will, as I've had intimations and intuitions of, have to be part of a nomadic tribe that has no permanent settlement because of the sins of my ancestors. Perhaps I will fight to protect my Chican@ neighbors even as I claim my own rights and culture.
Perhaps it's all too late to speculate.
I do not want or need others to be economically, culturally or politically inferior to me. I also like the Bill of Rights. Maybe the answer for me is to assert my individual freedom and interests without reference to the race that others expect from me.
I am friendly. I am hopeful. I am terrified.
Since I have said these things, I hope you will know that the Goddess will bring about Justice according to her will. I believe I deserve love and will have it.
Viva Aztlan! Viva Mexico! Viva America! (without borders)
Saturday, September 4, 2010
sex work and change
I have realized that to me white power is an inculcation of a fear of dealing with oneself. Upon reflection I now know that what I have failed to deal with is that, primarily, I "teach" sex. In other words, I am a kind of sex worker.
Now because of this I must learn to assert myself in what is an environment with little or no visible social support.
Sierra Vista is a largely white, military and military retiree town with conservatives greatly outnumbering others, and even more so in available public media.
It is a locality in which anti-immigrant groups are not only active but where their headquarters are maintained; it is host to Fort Huachuca, which trains intelligence officers and others going to Afghanistan (recently sponsoring international military exercises based on a certain resemblance between the local topography and Afghanistan.)
Now there is no doubt that there are other sex workers here. I do not know any who are public. I have not been paid for sex since I've been here (more than two years) though I have twice climbed into men's cars with the prospect of having sex, one of whom I believe wanted to pimp me out, and the other who just got free sex from me.
I have been very hidden myself partly due to my original intent of coming here only temporarily to gather money to continue my crack-whore lifestyle in New York combined with my mother's horror at whores.
I have had very little social contact of any kind with anyone until recently since I have begun attending the NAMI (National Association of the Mentally Ill) meetings on Thursday nights. I have not told anyone there about being a sex worker partly out of fear of the reaction of the males and also of the females in the group. I believe now that I will "out" myself.
Now, according to some of my readers, I am a betrayer of sex workers due to my having criticized and looked down upon others with either the courage to not or the lack of opportunity to depend on their parents. I have to add to this incidents of discomfort with brothers and sisters of other races and social groups. Put this all together and I'm a pretty selfish poseur taking up space more valuable for other people.
But now I think I can sincerely assert that (and sincerity is the key to deconstructing hypocrisy both individually and collectively) I am primarily a combination of poser and nerd and hustler. None of this is palatable to me or others.
I wish to give friendship. I offer this friendship to anyone of any background or status. This includes revolutionary nationalists and current sex workers or any combination there of.
I am guilty also of providing money to people solely on the basis of their asking for it because of my insincerity at playing prostitute.
I wish to let go of being nothing.
As you may find this post puzzling and contradictory, I can only say that i will attend to the implications and nature of these statements more extensively at another time.
Life can give trust.
Mostly costly,
c* (Julia)
Now because of this I must learn to assert myself in what is an environment with little or no visible social support.
Sierra Vista is a largely white, military and military retiree town with conservatives greatly outnumbering others, and even more so in available public media.
It is a locality in which anti-immigrant groups are not only active but where their headquarters are maintained; it is host to Fort Huachuca, which trains intelligence officers and others going to Afghanistan (recently sponsoring international military exercises based on a certain resemblance between the local topography and Afghanistan.)
Now there is no doubt that there are other sex workers here. I do not know any who are public. I have not been paid for sex since I've been here (more than two years) though I have twice climbed into men's cars with the prospect of having sex, one of whom I believe wanted to pimp me out, and the other who just got free sex from me.
I have been very hidden myself partly due to my original intent of coming here only temporarily to gather money to continue my crack-whore lifestyle in New York combined with my mother's horror at whores.
I have had very little social contact of any kind with anyone until recently since I have begun attending the NAMI (National Association of the Mentally Ill) meetings on Thursday nights. I have not told anyone there about being a sex worker partly out of fear of the reaction of the males and also of the females in the group. I believe now that I will "out" myself.
Now, according to some of my readers, I am a betrayer of sex workers due to my having criticized and looked down upon others with either the courage to not or the lack of opportunity to depend on their parents. I have to add to this incidents of discomfort with brothers and sisters of other races and social groups. Put this all together and I'm a pretty selfish poseur taking up space more valuable for other people.
But now I think I can sincerely assert that (and sincerity is the key to deconstructing hypocrisy both individually and collectively) I am primarily a combination of poser and nerd and hustler. None of this is palatable to me or others.
I wish to give friendship. I offer this friendship to anyone of any background or status. This includes revolutionary nationalists and current sex workers or any combination there of.
I am guilty also of providing money to people solely on the basis of their asking for it because of my insincerity at playing prostitute.
I wish to let go of being nothing.
As you may find this post puzzling and contradictory, I can only say that i will attend to the implications and nature of these statements more extensively at another time.
Life can give trust.
Mostly costly,
c* (Julia)
Friday, September 3, 2010
At last, something brief
A body that enters the Goddess teaches her of love.
A body that heatedly meets her caress teaches her of woman.
A body that indicates with one finger the pleasure receiving organ knows her raving.
A mess for you.
A body that heatedly meets her caress teaches her of woman.
A body that indicates with one finger the pleasure receiving organ knows her raving.
A mess for you.
A body of nothing
I don't need to hide anything --
I think that I feel bad.
I know that I am cunt.
A pain, a hooker.
I know that I make foolishness into loving a whore
I know that my mother wants me to like myself as a martian.
That's pain.
My mother says she needs me as a gift but I am a teacher.
Some of the above is distorted and incoherent.
I'll go on anyway aince there's terror in being a whore.
The facts about being a woman:
Cars go painfully at you.
Men see love as sharing.
Flow is money.
Money gives nothing.
I prefer to give help as luck.
Women like me being cock. That's me. Life.
Ask how you can let people hope.
By sitting very well.
Peer is men.
Men make flow pain.
I want love.
I want a way to feel without making sex feelings.
A Julia.
I intend the writing above to instruct you in how a change makes feelings start.
Be dove.
Maybe that'll keep you alive.
Maybe that'll make you a sexy bore.
Nuts.
I think that I feel bad.
I know that I am cunt.
A pain, a hooker.
I know that I make foolishness into loving a whore
I know that my mother wants me to like myself as a martian.
That's pain.
My mother says she needs me as a gift but I am a teacher.
Some of the above is distorted and incoherent.
I'll go on anyway aince there's terror in being a whore.
The facts about being a woman:
Cars go painfully at you.
Men see love as sharing.
Flow is money.
Money gives nothing.
I prefer to give help as luck.
Women like me being cock. That's me. Life.
Ask how you can let people hope.
By sitting very well.
Peer is men.
Men make flow pain.
I want love.
I want a way to feel without making sex feelings.
A Julia.
I intend the writing above to instruct you in how a change makes feelings start.
Be dove.
Maybe that'll keep you alive.
Maybe that'll make you a sexy bore.
Nuts.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Science these days
I was going to write about "Learning How to Care," but my thoughts have turned in another direction (which they do every few seconds).
Today I would like to focus on the scientific monopoly of knowledge, ideology and world-view within present-day society and over the individuals which compose it.
The first statement I would like to make is that this monopoly/dominance is revealing itself "these days" to be completely arbitrary and largely based on the wealth and power that back the egos of leading scientific figures and their apologists. What this arbitrary and omnipresent mode of apprehending the universe does is disguise, limit and suppress imaginative faculties (in part, I believe, because corporate and government science lacks the ability to use such faculties).
Historically speaking, (and who does not like to speak historically) science has leaned heavily on imagination and intuition to advance itself. The greatest physicists and chemists have admitted that dreams and intuition are essential to the expansion of knowledge. A physics student I knew in college once recommended that I trip on acid. Ideas do not readily suggest themselves from a mass of more or less partial or conflicting data. Humanity regularly used magic, intuition and life knowledge to understand relationships among people and with nature. These were the antecedents of the science of today and may be the direction we as a species are moving towards once more.
As I will readily admit, I have sometimes done better by science than I would have otherwise. In particular I am thinking of the time that I didn't know whether to take my hormone shot because I didn't know whether it would cause an unfortunate drug interaction. The doctor asked me what I wanted to do and I blubbered. He gave a humph and suggested a course of action, which I then accepted.
So, that was good for me. Of course the fact that there was an unknown drug interaction was in part an artifact of their being no research on combinations of injectable estrogen with other drugs. This derives from the disregard that mainstream science places on less profitable populations. Narrowly focused research itself is an example of a lack of imagination (at best).
This is all a longwinded way of saying, without referring to the terrific amount of legal influence some forms of science have, e.g., psychiatry and substance abuse; drug companies and their sales divisions; that science and scientists have a lack of self-awareness and perception that brings knowledge and conclusions that may be counter-intuitive or less than obvious to an "empirical" eye.
We are all paying the price (certainly I am) in the lack of holistic thinking on such matters as drug research. One doctor frankly told me that "no one knows" how all these drugs we are using interact or what the ultimate results will be for species health. I find this very scary. There is a kind of reptilianism at work here, pace CEG and David Icke.
The trouble is that holistic thinking would lead back to the social inequities and individual claims, needs and capabilities that paid-for science ignores. And it would demand a revolution in the relationship between ordinary perceptions, which tend to be more rooted in life and its concrete circumstaances and abstract theory and evidence-gathering to support such theories. There is an everyday experience of the nonnormal and paranormal that science ruthlessly suppressed on behalf of its social position for centuries that, as is well known erased female influence from the ranks of science for generations.
I believe that the inner knowledge that each of us have if only we pay attention to it forms at least as important a source of inquiry as measurable, quantitative information. I also think that with all the crises evincing themselves in the world that it is vital for people to turn within and to each other for answers and to fight against scientific monopolies in politics, behavior, health and spiritual commitment.
It's better to be open to all influences that have their roots in the elements that constitute life and being, at least for the purposes of discerning what path to take, what light(s) suit which situations and facts than to build up a collapsible structure which will take us all down with it.
I wish I knew more so I could provide a more coherent conclusion.
Trust your own perceptions! That's one.
Today I would like to focus on the scientific monopoly of knowledge, ideology and world-view within present-day society and over the individuals which compose it.
The first statement I would like to make is that this monopoly/dominance is revealing itself "these days" to be completely arbitrary and largely based on the wealth and power that back the egos of leading scientific figures and their apologists. What this arbitrary and omnipresent mode of apprehending the universe does is disguise, limit and suppress imaginative faculties (in part, I believe, because corporate and government science lacks the ability to use such faculties).
Historically speaking, (and who does not like to speak historically) science has leaned heavily on imagination and intuition to advance itself. The greatest physicists and chemists have admitted that dreams and intuition are essential to the expansion of knowledge. A physics student I knew in college once recommended that I trip on acid. Ideas do not readily suggest themselves from a mass of more or less partial or conflicting data. Humanity regularly used magic, intuition and life knowledge to understand relationships among people and with nature. These were the antecedents of the science of today and may be the direction we as a species are moving towards once more.
As I will readily admit, I have sometimes done better by science than I would have otherwise. In particular I am thinking of the time that I didn't know whether to take my hormone shot because I didn't know whether it would cause an unfortunate drug interaction. The doctor asked me what I wanted to do and I blubbered. He gave a humph and suggested a course of action, which I then accepted.
So, that was good for me. Of course the fact that there was an unknown drug interaction was in part an artifact of their being no research on combinations of injectable estrogen with other drugs. This derives from the disregard that mainstream science places on less profitable populations. Narrowly focused research itself is an example of a lack of imagination (at best).
This is all a longwinded way of saying, without referring to the terrific amount of legal influence some forms of science have, e.g., psychiatry and substance abuse; drug companies and their sales divisions; that science and scientists have a lack of self-awareness and perception that brings knowledge and conclusions that may be counter-intuitive or less than obvious to an "empirical" eye.
We are all paying the price (certainly I am) in the lack of holistic thinking on such matters as drug research. One doctor frankly told me that "no one knows" how all these drugs we are using interact or what the ultimate results will be for species health. I find this very scary. There is a kind of reptilianism at work here, pace CEG and David Icke.
The trouble is that holistic thinking would lead back to the social inequities and individual claims, needs and capabilities that paid-for science ignores. And it would demand a revolution in the relationship between ordinary perceptions, which tend to be more rooted in life and its concrete circumstaances and abstract theory and evidence-gathering to support such theories. There is an everyday experience of the nonnormal and paranormal that science ruthlessly suppressed on behalf of its social position for centuries that, as is well known erased female influence from the ranks of science for generations.
I believe that the inner knowledge that each of us have if only we pay attention to it forms at least as important a source of inquiry as measurable, quantitative information. I also think that with all the crises evincing themselves in the world that it is vital for people to turn within and to each other for answers and to fight against scientific monopolies in politics, behavior, health and spiritual commitment.
It's better to be open to all influences that have their roots in the elements that constitute life and being, at least for the purposes of discerning what path to take, what light(s) suit which situations and facts than to build up a collapsible structure which will take us all down with it.
I wish I knew more so I could provide a more coherent conclusion.
Trust your own perceptions! That's one.
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