A few choice morsels sent in the breeze

Bears flammbe on motorcycle seats
Sirocco in the springtime
Galadriel marry me

SExuality encompasses such a wide array of activities, thoughts, wishes, desires, dreams, hopes, feelings, and of course ecstasies, that there is no reason to think that I can or must write about it as a "whole."

Okay, Love under Will.

What exactly is that?

To me, there is a very large overlap between the two such that each is an aspect of another. Without one, there would not be the other. I know this is a commonplace statement for a pagan philosopher such as myself, but I've got to start somewhere.

Victory over another part of Creation has the quality of creating Victory over the Victor.
"She is coming"
I am glad you know that.

You know, those Indians killed settlers.

I have to believe that with every bone of my body, down to the deepest darkest marrow of them, that I am loving because there is no Goddess unless I make her.

Settle and live.

Be happy.

Yours,
"c*"

Chelsea Goodwin: Her Life and Work

Ms. Chelsea Goodwin is the hardest working transgender woman in town.

Her exact provenance is a question she attempts to leave in mystery, preferring to claim origins from across the U.S. and around the globe. I find this to be part of her appeal. That she may be from a Merovingian family or from the Lenappe Indians allows me to know and accept different aspects of humanity in myself -- usually opposite to the ones I am consciously attempting to portray.

Before you go, "hold on, Elsie, what do you mean by that?" let me assert that the great majority of us live in confusion and despair precisely because we are seemingly inescapably tied to no more than one half of who we are, thereby being enslaved to the other, denied or hidden "halves." I believe that Chelsea, by being a "variable" in so many respects, can and has helped free people to be all of themselves. At least that has been true for me.

I believe that Chelsea has been in places that are very rare for any human being to attain. I've been in a lot of places ("within") myself, and I recognize that Chelsea has taken on aspects of reality that give her energy to understand and influence others lovingly that can only be possible because she has been where that person is coming from themselves. So, with her, nothing human is alien to her, though she always fights one person trying to make others unfree or controlled or treat others unjustly.

Chelsea's shamanistic personality goes along with, in my view, a very difficult life in which she has faced rejection from some very intimate relations. I don't want to state who may have rejected her or what manner of rejection it was, because I don't know for certain. (And at times I have also rejected her.) But I do believe it was witnessing the destructiveness of human relations to herself and being happy anyway in the totality (good Sartrean/Marxian word) of what the Universe is, i.e., the Divine Feminine, that goes along with unconditional love.

This is all a line of shit that is taking me nowhere.

She loves me. She comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable, and that's what life is all about. She wears some really cool duds.

She deserves love and recognition.

She taught me what it is to know that life is to claim as my own.

She led me to teach myself that honesty and sincerity are the beginnings of love. At least for such like me.

She also worked in the Strand, and she's a great reader, and she's got good taste in women.

If you're reading this and you know her, she is a bitch. I can think of no higher compliment.

Let me say just one more thing. She put into effect what others only talk about. Motherhood is part of that. In other words I have been a really poor her.

So, let's be nice.

Yours,
Julia (c*)

(Not the Actor)

Paring, Editing, Deletion, Censorship vs. Honesty and Compassion for Myself

To be brief:

I was going to edit my post from last night, since it is contradictory and presents me in a pathetic light, but also because there is one possibly offensive line that some people might use against me sooner or later.

I have decided to leave it in, since I believe that no one will take what I said in the most literal and physically grotesque way. I leave it up to you to interpret that, and I leave it up to me to work out the feelings behind the statement with myself and my therapist and those of you who prefer compassion over hate.

Thank you.

Love, c*

Clear as (a) (b)/(h)ell(e)(?)

Snarkety snark snark!



Welcome to today's commentary!



I've been meaning not to be too very forthcoming about the motivations and criteria/desiderata? behind the making of those plans that I seem endlessly to make. But reality is what it is and perhaps getting this out there will help me be more certain and better prepared than otherwise.



Please someone turn the volume down, I can't hear what's in my heart! Thank you!



Should I go to New York, there are two scenarios.



First, I throw myself right back into crack smoking without regard for my finances or my health/life, and return to the world of street/bar prostitution. My money runs out within a month or two, and I'm stranded, perhaps without a place to go.



Second, I use the time that I have to search for work/try to impress someone that my writing is good enough to hire me to at least proofread/copyedit some sort of material in their publication, or perhaps good enough to itself publish. Realistically in this economy and with my social skills/interview skills, I'd be lucky to find anything. So, along with this, I would have to declare myself solidly middle class, meaning that I eschew anything/position/person that interferes with my standing on an equal footing with possible employers/clients. Yes, I said clients, because part of this "middle-classness" includes being a whore. It's not going away. I may just have to hide behind something more or less legitimate. In this scenario, any crack smoking is just an occasional reward for a career moving more or less smoothly.



Now, realistically, what may be coming is a mixture of the two. For I lack the organizational/social skills needed to carry the second one off effectively and totally. At least I believe that I have finally found ways to be more assertive, to be less shackled by my past dependent relationship on my father.



This brings me to my current relationship with my mother, which is becoming more and more dependent for both of us. Though I often feel she is trying to push me out of this nest I've sometimes befouled, and I feel that our emotional lives together reflect a certain marginalization and uselessness for me even within my family (-- as one of my doctors asked me, "What are you doing here?"), I recognize that perhaps what I need to do first and foremost is learn to take care of her. This would seriously curtail/put on hold some of my hopes and dreams -- "negative" and positive. But I would be doing my job as her daughter. But would I fuck up? Would she give me the freedom and responsibility necessary to do what I woiuld need to do. And why is it that I am giving up my freedom to her to begin with? NONE of my mother's friend's adult daughters live with them, no matter how advanced in age or declining in health the mothers are. As usual it seems what people are asking from me and what they are hoping from me are two very different things, and to me, El Stupido c*, it is very confusing to sort out which is which.



I need to let my mother know that I will always be her daughter.

I need to embrace her every day.



I need her to know I feel strong and capable and worthy of success, i.e., happiness and safety, right now.



I need her to believe in me.



I need to remember that despite some pleasant moments we've shared that I've been very bad to her. Rude, disparaging, sharp. I have not treated her as I would myself, or rather I have treated myself, the part of myself that is her, as I have treated her: badly.



The fact is that I have been so afraid to be nice. I do know I love her. I have to love her enough not to be in any more danger, or at least not to be caught in any more danger: not do anything I can't prevail in. I need her to know that, due to a lack of faith in myself and the Goddess, I do not feel good about myself and perhaps never will, that this is as good as it gets, so I need to act on my freedom and be my own person.



I think she knows that I need her.



I think she knows that she is my hope. Perhaps I have to be hers also.



I need to speak to someone who can help me sort through all this, because I know she's going to find out what I am. I hope that she doesn't make me feel bad. I hope that she will believe that I love her. I might not.



I hope she knows that I am the woman I wanted to be.



I need to start making the home that she has made for me.



(Wherever and whenever I am.)



Maybe I want her to know I can be happy without her.



But that's not the fear that I have.



The fear is that I will never be her lover.

So now you know I'm either incredibly self-aware or very sick.

I need to be the thread that takes me to my destiny: a kleised pen.

I'm not going to say what is happening.


I am the only person that I can give love to, withoiut there being a her.

I cn give without people hruting me.

I am a friend but not the Goddess' daughter.

I feel like a biitch but not the way I wanted to.

I love the Goddess.

no more selfishness

no more.

i'll go where she wants me to go.

Poems to make up a Verse (pace Chelsea)

Led by me

Malevolent affection
Original for us

This time,
evolve.


O'Leary's blarney

Palatial accretion
of a misnomer dream

Change a direction
and believe the unseen.


***


Weather the Vain
Enchant the Rain


****

Terror

Gone to my home
Tom and my poem


***

Myth is
Oh, modern!


***


Western Molester
Patient and clean

May you achieve
Your final glean


***

Passion's a wish for
Kissing Sylvester


***


Walking a pleasure,
Fairies' measure.


***

(Same name:
A morning's warning)


William's young, riding
Tossing, then tiding.

****

Omen for Julia
Game is Steering

But seriously, yolks!

I've been writing this blog for over five months now and I've learned virtually nothing from it except that I can somewhat regularly arrange my thoughts into words, sentences and paragraphs that, although they are perhaps without intrinsic worth to justify them being so, are accessible to the whole world via the internet.

But I've rarely gone back through the writing to tell whether I've made any personal or artistic progress. My impression is that for me it has been an accessory to my emotional and thought process such that I can for the moment understand what is happening to/for me. However, it has been less than perfect at teaching or informing others about how to do the same for whatever ailments/advantages we may share in common. I don't think it reads as well to you as it does even to me.

At this moment, I may compare my life to walking down a path at night in a rural area like my mother grew up in eighty years ago. There are few signposts I can read with my lantern. There are few landmarks such as streams, bridges, barns and neighbors' houses that can guide me in my journey home or my flight to somewhere else. The model Ts, As, the horses are driven by people who may or may not feel the need to show kindness to a middle-aged woman (not to mention transgender woman) who appears to have lost her bearings. There are no phones to use along the road, and many houses do not have their own line. After hours of walking without knowing that I am any closer to my destination, the question becomes, where and how do I rest?
My home is unavailable to me whether from distance or familial choice; strangers are not apt to take me in; "charity" is far away and humiliating to accept. Further, where and how I rest will influence my plans for the future. I may have to spend days working off boarding fees; I may not reach safety and will have to defend myself without much ability to do so. The moon is bright, but it is beginning to rain and I am beginning to panic.

This was to give you a word picture of what is happening with me. Today I told my mother that it was clear to me that my presence in the house was too much for her. I called several (3) agencies in Tucson that the gay and lesbian community center there had recommended as having services for transgender people. Two of them had no housing services, the third I am waiting to hear from.

So far, so bad. I know no one in Tucson. Boardinghouses there are, I hear, rife with drug consumption. Violence is as bad as it used to be in NYC 10-15 years ago. But I would be close enough to my mother to be able to visit her in these years ahead.

I don't have Medicaid any more (I make 60 dollars too much a year) so I may not be eligible for any of these budget-cut programs anyway.

In New York I would have a personal introduction to my boardinghouse, and have at least the chance/breathing room to find another place to live. But one of the reasons I departed there was that my definition of love, which is the ethic of street living, was political and not from the heart. I came to know that I did not belong there and perhaps was in danger. I do not know whether I have changed enough to reverse that judgment.

On the plus side in New York, my mind is heavily affected by the New York state of mind such that even if I have enemies there, I know who they are and what they are saying to me.

I have some money saved, so were it not for the likelihood that I would find temptation, I could theoretically find a private apartment or roommate situation. But I am mentally ill. I do need care. I do need to face reality. Whatever choice I make will have serious drawbacks, call down a lot of family and friend pressure/criticism, and will leave me at best far from fulfilling those tantalizing goals called for instance, a writing/teaching/political career; or even a typing, secretarial/office career.

I need to be aware that I am on my own in a way that I have never been before. There's a lot to be said for that.

I need to go where I can give aid and comfort even as I am receiving it.

I need to relax and know that there will be an end to it and that I am a lover and a good person.

I believe that whoever reads this will in some sense know that i am not being very gentle with myself and that this may lead to danger.

Gently, gently, I can and will find succor, even if it only at the bosom of Nature. I am willing to go wherever the path leads me. I hope I have your thoughts and prayers.

I have been very spoiled, or at least sheltered.

I am going to be okay, because there is kindness and justice and beauty within me and they will always win over cynicism, doubt and judgment.

Love, c*

Top o'the Morning to ya.

I AM ALIVE!

c*mare is a bitch!

Places

Answers to questions unmade

William the Conquest

Salem the Pain

Galley of my ship
Staring at my strip

Chasing down a quicker
Known as A. Randy W????

Gosh, I'm cute (clueless)

Stanford University was the place where I found that
phoniness and cruelty made for success;
Oxford University was the place where I found that
transsexuality glimmers,
socialism simmers,
and God was my point.
(And lies were my lovers.)

I've been there
And that's good.

Sex interests me because
I love it.

Thanks so much for your wine

Be a friend

***************

To be NICE!

Clients say hell was a goddess
I know the feeling.

A lover says "Yes, I am here and I love you."

A hunger is c*

A flow is a pony

Shame is not dirt/dirt is not Shame

Players only love you when they're playing.

I'm going to do a few drawings and call it a day.

Heifer is good, so be it.


I love you and I like it!