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A friend texted me late in the evening recently, "I miss you bitchhhhhh." We don't even live in the same town. 

I saw Hilary motherfucking Duff with a friend of 20 something years. We completed a friendship arch that I literally cannot describe.   

Another friend hosted me in their city for Hayley Williams some months back, bought me dinner, and was willing to have a hard conversation with me recently, when I needed to have it out of the blue. 

My other friend duels with me on Pokemon TCG when we're hundreds of miles apart, asks for my change of address to send me mail, and gives me so many trinkets of appreciation that half of my room is virtually a shrine to them. 

Yet another longstanding friend has been out-of-state for years and intends to move out of country in the coming months but we've stayed talking on the phone since high school. He makes a point to see me for the holidays and a little distance ain't nothin' to us. 

I think one of my friends is turning me into a spiritual person again? I've had the privilege to work with them and they lead with such compassion, it's inspiring. And let it be known, I don't make work friends, not really. 

I also live with 4 gay men that keep tabs on me, know my location, are listed as emergency contacts, and enjoy shit talking a dank Tubi movie as much as I do.  

Someone I recently caught up with said, "I need to do what you do in keeping boundaries in my life!" We were speaking about no contact with family members in particular. I looked around and said, "You do this. You build your own family." 

Ever since I was a child, I have felt alone. Deeply, alone. Blend all the types of trauma into a pot and you get me. And ever since I can remember, I've struggled to remember, meaning I dissociate. Floating in the ether and feeling like nothing enhances the loneliness. I suppose that was the safer route than being present. 

But friendships have always been the support that carried me through everything in my life. Even the ones that came and went. 

I have worked my b-o-o-t-y off to cultivate healthy relationships in my life and every day, I get to watch those decisions play out. Like a proud parent to my inner child. "You made it! You built your family! You are present." 

Something is resonating with me lately. I have deep neglect wounds. I have never felt a true sense of home, or a safety that stays long enough to feel like home. Something has always interrupted that process, sometimes self-imposed (sabotaged). 

But there are all these threads of bits of truths I have weaved together through time, and the people that have stood with me during that process are the home. I am the home because they are the home. 

And I've consistently had people tell me how bright my light is, how I need to be giving it to the world etc etc etc etc. 

I don't want to be extraordinary. I just want to be home. 

I don't want to just change the world. I want to be a part of it. 

I don't want to just heal. I want to be whole. 

I'm not certain if this world will ever let me fully feel that sensation, but this is the process I want to be in flow with. 

Back to earth, back to home.  

 

The Age of Aquarius

I stopped Doordashing to come home to write this post. Let that be the embodiment of this message: Pause capitalism to find authenticity. 

 

I had my tarot read recently and I practice privacy so just know that I am keeping much to myself here. But, Dina gave me a few insights that are resonating with me. 

She said that I am in my most authentic Aquarius form/power/state right now. And, I also drew the fucking tower card AGAIN. But, she said that the tower card can also mean that juggling something that is really great can be hard juggling. I am claiming that energy. 

I've been on the cusp of something... just, something... lately. 

I've also been a little less atheistic lately and a little more agnostic? I'm feeling fairly witchy and something feels in alignment in correcting the way my ancestors have practiced spirituality. At least the American ones. 

There is something about needing to protect your energy as a healer. People siphon that shit left and right, and I can draw a line back to capitalism and colonialism but I'm too tired for that. If you get it, you get it. That's where the spiritual comes into play for me. There is a knowing without words, the way nature knows. 

And speaking of nature, let's talk Aquarius. 

They say it's the age of Aquarius for the next some odd years. In some ways, I'm thriving as shit gets real and we finally fucking put words to it all. The pain, the anguish, the despair of capitalism and human suffering, but the joys and music and poetry and bountiful beauty of humanity. 

They say I'm the water bearer. I bring change, I bring enlightenment, I bring insight, I bring intuition. I have been pressed all my life to let my little light shine, and people regularly share with me how much they appreciate my wisdom and authenticity. So like let's fucking talk about that for a second. 

This is what I mean when I say that people siphon your energies. 

Do you feel how batshit the world feels right now? I feel a celestial shift happening, and it's driving me insane. I genuinely feel like I'm losing my grip on reality lately. So much is shifting and I feel prepared for that (as an Aquarius does), but I don't feel people writ large are. (Again, capitalism does not equip us with the tools to engage change... forever fuck colonialism...). I feel authenticity staring us right in the retinas and it is scaring the absolute fuck out of people. These people are not the innovators, the star gazers, or the dreamers. They are the followers. And they are wholly unprepared for what is coming. 

With that daunting message out of the way, what I mean to say is that people really don't know what authenticity means. They really, truly don't know how to heal. I talk about healing all the time, and grief, and welcome to living in this world. Awareness is only the surface of the beginning. The digging deeper to find oneself is... something I believe that is incapable of being articulated in Western language, by design. Our words, our systems...are not designed to hold space for us whatsoever. They are designed to cultivate labor and suffering of the majority for the greed of the few. And it's that simple. 

But when we hear these words... labor, suffering... we're already assigning intellectual definitions to them. We worship the written word. We're not invested in breaking down how labor and suffering and inequality have been written into our identities. I will not elaborate further here, just do some research. In fact, read Forest Euphoria by Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian. Much of what I talk about here she talks about there. 

So, when we are presented with opportunities to... wait for it... let's talk therapy speak here... 

Hold boundaries

Speak our truth

Stand in our identities/intersections

we have absolutely no idea how to authentically do that. 

What do we do instead? 

Well, let me talk about the people I know best: white women. 

We become mean girls. 

We say, there's absolutely no way I am being walked all over again. Here, let me reference my whiteness in learning about boundaries. Ah yes, the violence of my whiteness and my white tears, my discomfort. I am uncomfortable, do not make me uncomfortable. There, that is a boundary. I have spoken my truth. I am a woman. Tehe. 

And if you're a liberal/liberal leaning/progressive/leftist/whatever, you're probably thinking about someone you know and not yourself. Because you are always the victim. I've been that bitch before. 

White woman victimhood is not empowerment, nor is it true villain era material. 

To be a true villain is to thwart the authorities and any internal authorities we bow down to. Bowing down makes us anything but villains. They make us dutiful little soldiers. 

I could wax on and on but I hope the message stays potent and perturbing. May you be perturbed. 

The point I am making is that if you want to be authentic as an Aquarius, you have to quit the shit. Alllll of the shit. Your shit, your mom's shit, your white ass shit, all the shit. It's an addiction, think of it as nothing less. 

When I was in martial arts, my father (though a terrible person, he did leave me with this...) would point to the "extreme martial artists" at conventions we'd go to. They would have flashy moves, like in the movies, and lots of things for show. We studied Tae Kwon Do and the first form you learn is literally walking and punching in four directions. But my father taught me that every single fucking movement and the way you catch the wind with those movements is the fucking form. It is everything. He'd point to those extreme bastards and say, "yeah, they're cool, but they don't actually know real martial arts. they're just for show, and that's their thing. that is not our thing." 

If you do not investigate every fucking move and every gust of wind you make with power in your life, you cannot possibly show up authentically. You will not have foundation in your life, and you will not be able to build momentum to build power. If your technique for walking and punching sucks ass as a white belt, you're gonna suck ass as a black belt, too. 

Leave no cracks in your foundation. Let change rock you. Let the mundane strength-building power you up like a goddamn Pokemon (or Dragonball Z?). 

If you want to be authentic like an Aquarius, LEAVE. NO. CRACKS. 

Own it. Own all your shit, all your bullshit. Own it. Own it. 

There is no shortcut to authenticity. not even standing in the shade of someone with authenticity. We will see you and we will walk away so that the sun may expose you. 

You cannot be caretaken into authenticity either. Someone else cannot teach you authenticity. They can merely mirror it. I'm going to start laughing at you all when you ask me one more time how I am so my own person. I cannot teach you that. There is no shortcut. To me, the ask is the sign of the problem and it's offensive that you'd need my energy to find your own. What's mine is not yours, in the deepest recesses of my soul. That is my soul, not yours. You must ride the journey to authenticity alone. It is the only part of individualistic culture that I think makes any sense. Your community may have you and build your identity with you, but your most authentic self is in you and you alone. That is the self. That is the ego death. That is you. 

If you want to be yourself, watch an Aquarius. But just watch. Once you get there, you'll know exactly what I'm waxing wise on. If that feels mysterious to you, you're not getting it. Start over.  

Y'all... I'm just saying... cut the crap this Aquarius age. Like for real. The bullshit is EXHAUSTING 😭 

Make your money Doordashing like me but cut the bullshit. Pause to find authenticity. And hell, document it like me.  

Reflections on Pride

It's Juuuuuune. Gay month. 

Pride Month is always a love/hate relationship for me. With corporate hands reaching into our pot, I worry they're diluting us into dollar signs. And they are. Just like everyone else. 

But, it still gets me thinking about the whole being gay thing. It's like a fun little check-in, like a "Hey, I'm still gay. How'd we get here?" 

The first few years of Pride felt as important as they might ever feel to me. They were a way to feel seen and feel like maybe I did matter and should be included and celebrated in humanity's embrace. I was bisexual identifying at the time and it really felt like a great way to claim my "B." (Shout-out to all you bisexual baddies). 

As I've embraced my intersections of lesbianism, genderfluidity, and polyamorous orientation, I suppose you could say Pride feels a lot more complex for me. 

Those are all intersections that if you know, you know. Queer people are the best at understanding. We're kind of all the same but so vastly different, and that's what makes us us. 

But I guess I just wanted to do that yearly Pride reflecting again. I really haven't shared it online in quite some time and it feels right this year. 

 

It's interesting considering all my time identifying as bisexual. I was, like, obnoxiously bisexual. Down for the cause, loud and proud as hell about it, wanting to be seen. And those were all SUCH valid ways to be. I'm so proud of myself for those years. But I am simply sapphic as all hell and there's nothing more to it. 

I still maintain, like, an adjacent bicuriousity about men. As in, like, sometimes one of them will catch me off guard and I think... might smash? A little? I truly don't know what that's all about but it's in me somewhere. I know that I do not enjoy sex with men, so the curiosity is satiated. But... it lingers a bit sometimes? It's curious! 

But the first time I kissed an AFAB person, it was over. The Lord made me a lesbian right then and there. I will take the softness of a sapphic every day a million times over the harshness of a cis-identifying man. (And in case you're wondering if trans femmes are sapphics, lady dick ain't the same as your crusty man's). 

I identify, like, 60% masculine but find myself so very unattracted to masculinity. There has been nothing more empowering in my queer journey than to embrace being a man hating lesbian. God, the power of living a life centered around sapphic energy muahahaha. The matriarch lives within and around me. 

I've had some good experiences and some bad experiences with sapphics but overall, I'd say we're pretty amazing. We're much quicker to listen, cease judgement, resort to conflict resolution, and hold the world and those we love with greater tenderness than I've ever seen any man do. Statistically, we also have the best sex, and I suspect the aforementioned qualities all have something to do with that. 

I was recently discussing queerness with a friend and she asked, "I've been asking my friends - where are all the lesbians? And they told me they're all in their burrows being cozy." 

Ain't that the truth. 

Even when we're sweaty on the dance floor, or Uhauling it across country, we're domestic at heart. It's like a reclaimed version of what the patriarchy expects of us. It's true matriarchy. The hearth that keeps all of life cozy and safe. We've got the softest and safest hearts. 

The thought of telling a lesbian she is wrong or nasty for loving women/sapphics is the entirety of the world's problems summed up in an evil thought. HAVE YOU KISSED A WOMAN'S LIPS? You'd see the future, understand rocket science suddenly, become a linguist and a poet, and heal through past lives if you did. Men being unchanged in this way by women tells me all I need to know about how they receive women. (And yes, I say receive. Bow down before us.) They don't receive women. They siphon the celestial energy they feel from them and seek to repurpose it for their own gain. To kiss a sapphic is to be truly changed for the better. Baby, we're your upgrade in this universe and the next. 

And what to fall in love with us? Boy, you're in for your TV to start turning color again. The old you was black and white. Binary even. Incapable of seeing limitless possibilities. You are magnetized to the earth in sapphic love. Plants start sprouting in places of your soul you did not know existed. Healthy bacteria, fungus. Your immune system is upgraded. Your celestial being is right in karmic harmony. The world lets go of you a little bit. You breathe through nostrils you never had before. Hell, you breathe colors. The world tilts a little and changes.  

So stop fooling around and make us the heads of your nuclear families (looking at you, Indiana).

And on the parts of my queer journey that involve my gender and polyamory:

I used to say that I didn't think I could be with cis women because I didn't think they would understand that I'm not always a dyke. Sometimes I feel like a man, sometimes I feel bigender, sometimes I feel gender fuckery (as in, I'm whatever you don't want me to be that day), and most of the time, a child could decide my gender for me and I'd be happy with that. But I was wrong: Lesbians get me. Way more than I anticipated they could. Being sapphic includes trans men and I think that's really freaking cool. It's an honor to be embraced in my genderfluidity as a masculine identifying person. Pfft, lesbians think sapphic masculinity is hot. And it is. And we are. Tender but strong in all the ways a cis man never could be. We pave the way for a new masculinity even. Always have, always will. 

As for my polyamory these days, I'm not really practicing. I had such a terrible mindfuck of an experience prior that I've needed some years to lay off the stuff. My therapist tells me that seasoned polyamorists often land in a comfortable place of monogam-ish because we are worn out from all the drama of group dynamics. And lord, are we. 

I think there's a real beauty to abundance in love. Good lord, I'm deeply romantic. I could live off romance alone. The thought of sharing romance in abundance and multiple dynamics excites me and gets me out of bed to pursue relationships. But the reality of making that happen? Ha, that's slim to none, baby. People are messsssyyyyy. Better to have one healthy relationship than a few that are falling apart. But I won't give the stuff up completely. Who knows? Maybe there really are enough people to make it happen in this world and lifetime. I hope so. 

I'm solo these days and in my career girlie era. But never gayer. And prepared for my life to change one day as a polyamorist lesbian. I'm very excited to keep exploring dynamics in my life with time. Nothing will stop me from being gay, I can assure you of that, dear reader. I happily make being gay my entire personality. *Lizzie McGuire cartoon voice* Deal with it!

As always, do gay things. Be gay all the time, not just in June. Fuck corporate fascists, get down with the fags. We've always been here and always will be. Deal with it! 

 

 

Creativity

I sat down recently to make yet another attempt at being creative and damn the Lexapro. Goddamn the Lexapro. 

I even did some light research on how to navigate creativity when you're emotionally blunted on anti-depressants and the best I could come up with was doing things that are low-stakes and accepting that your creativity has shifted. 

But GIRL--my creativity has LEFT THE BUILDING. 

When I went through my divorce, I deeply struggled to find a medium that could encapsulate all of my feelings into a creative project. Thus, one never happened. Just little bits here and there. I thought that was situational but it turns out it's not. Maybe creativity is complex. 

The other day, the best I could do was to work on an adult coloring book page. It felt trite at first but as I tried to accept the process, I realized that my creativity right now is inspired by mundane, every day, rote, routine stuff. And Lexapro has been necessary for helping with that. Pivotal even. I've needed routine to rework my life for many years now. 

But things are starting to come together in my life and I have the entirety of the world to process, I always do. What am I to do with my need to creatively process when I can't freely access it when I want to? It's devastating. 

But, for the sake of ensuring my anti-depressants keep me okay while the world burns right now, this is my attempt at breaking the monotony. I'm trying to feel inspired again. 

 

The world - it is indeed on fire. I'm an existentialist; I've always known that. But the reality, the grasping at the future, the harsh truths, the singe of truth into my skin, my bone marrow, and its full revelation in my ancestral DNA as a whitey in America... it's not woe is me. It's woe is us. Always has been. This shit is ancestral. I've known that in my studies of generational trauma. But the reality, the undoing of it all... the rich islands of hell of it all... the classism of it all... the status quo of it all... the blind ignorance and willful ignorance of it all... the refusal to bear witness of it all... These are the things that keep me up at night. 

And somewhere in it all, I have to hold my head up, go to work, and do it all over again. Everything feels curated; it's a great place to be for a dissociative person, the picking apart of reality on a mass scale. 

The liberal in me is waning. Has been for some time. But identity politics aren't working, they're not sustainable. I want to find the shared humanity in all of us, not the identity that erases the complexity of the human. 

There are times when I feel like I'm screaming into a void. OUR HUMANITY IS RIGHT HERE, LOOK NO FURTHER. 

I simply don't know how to articulate something that is perhaps not meant to be articulated through the lens of Western philosophy. I cannot make an argument for an intuitive knowledge that we have with each other and with the trees and with animals and with the world. That's the humanist in me. Thwarting that process is the reason the world is topsy turvy. 

Ancient wisdom doesn't need to posture. Hell, it doesn't even need words. Ritual, myth, symbol, consistency, safety, community, collective spirit, unity. I get what One Love means now. If you know, you know. 

How the fuck do I explain that to another white person? Our ancestors made damn sure we don't know what One Love means. Fuck em. 

 

When I think of myself as a multimedia artist, I think about trying to answer that question through art. That answer is the answer to damn near everything I need to know in life. It all permeates the personal, and that's white supremacy babyyyyy. 

But how do I as a healer find expression for this, for my own sanity, not just the sanity of others? I don't fucking know. 

All I know is that listening to music lately has been the answer somewhere in there.  

I'm 32 Going on 33 Now

What... a thing to say. 

I mean it makes sense. The math adds up. 

But that means this blog is... 17 going on 18 years old.

...you know what? There are much more unbelievable things going on in the world now than when I was 15. HA. 

At any rate, I don't get on social media much any more. I've found a way to protect my privacy and hold myself to a healthier standard that is less oversharing, more vulnerability with my loved ones. 

I have some dope ass friends. It's actually ridiculous how fulfilling it can be when you're willing to curate your boundaries and a circle that can support them. 

I wanted to pop in and offer an update. It's been a few years? My mind tells me I need an outlet and I certainly love the idea of washing away a little mystery (JUST a little) about my life, and then I shall go back into hiding I suppose muahahaha. 

Honestly, nothing's changed as far as how I function in my day-to-day. Still processing the entirety of the world, my trauma, and my aspirations. I have my best revelations when I'm sitting in bed and staring at the wall. 

I'm quite a homebody these days. I'm very regrettably back in Indiana/Indianapolis until I can get my finances back to where I'd like them to be. I'm doing okay - learning about my goals as a single-income person has been a journey but a good one. It's empowering and forces me to truly dig at what MY priorities are (and to continue examining my privileges etc). I don't think I have them completely sorted out yet but I'm getting damn near close. 

On the flip side, I have purchased the insides of what I'd like in my future living situation but just need the space. I've really set out to not lose my independence/adulthood as I've adjusted to living with others the last few years. Pretty proud of myself. 

Being a good ass psychologist has been my major focus. I've been working with autistic kiddos for quite awhile and while the field is not my end goal, I can't even describe how much these little beans teach me about therapy every single day. I'm also surrounded by people that are the most caring people I've ever met, prioritize their own growth, and seek to make the world a better place by being themselves. That's what I want to do in the world, too. 

I've really been thinking lately about how I intend to navigate the world as a leftist having left leftist spaces (left...there, I said it again). I am absolutely more of a leftist than I could have ever imagined since I've removed myself from those spaces that commune around shared leftist values - I just focus on embodying them, not telling them. And I've gotten some pretty damn awesome results, I must say. I'm not just posting about how much I care about something, I'm showing people. Quite honestly, I think people listen better through your actions anyways. Not to mention, I've been taking this time for communal solitude in tending to myself and checking in on my how my values inform how I show up for myself as well. My intersections matter too, dammit. 

In community, though, I've learned that I just am not the personality to help people work through any type of ego-reaching, posturing, or lack of accountability issues. That's DEFINITELY a group worth sharing space with if you have the kahonas and patience for it. I simply do not. I believe there's an extreme trigger there for me as well - just NOT a healthy space for me to be in. I'd rather spend my time (and I'm more effective as a leftist) around people with hearts of gold that want to do right by people but need to examine their biases. I'm your guy if you need help in that way, let's gooooooooooo. Gotta be willing to be honest and earnest about it all, though. Not easy to do. 

I do wonder if this will change for me at all in the future as I have to consider the different types of clientele I'll be serving. What does it mean to show up for a fellow leftist that won't examine their own biases or practice true accountability because it looks like failure in front of their peers? I don't know that answer. Yet? Who knows. Obviously this doesn't mean EVERY leftist yada yada yada but it does mean there is a cultural problem and I believe leftism also has the answers that underlie why that is, but that's for another day. (I can already feel the fellow leftists waiting for the intellectual answer - remember, I'm not your guy for this problem even if I can speak your language. We wield it differently). 

As I move forward in my life, I will summarize the unpleasant parts I'm moving through. I lost my baby kitty and greatest life companion Greta in April, am not on speaking terms with any of my family members, and am processing another breakup. BUT, and HUGE BUT, those are all actually good things this time around? I've loved so very much, I'm grieving, but I'm prioritizing me in this era of my life, no holds barred. 

One of my therapy goals in moving back home was to get to the root of why I can assert boundaries but not maintain them when pressed against. I now have my answers and they're extremely unpleasant. But I had a kitty to walk through the trauma and lessons and joy of my life with me, and a girlfriend that traveled me all over the world (pretty literally) and loved me better than anyone has. What a treat and a joy my life is, even when endings and grief occur. I'm so lucky. 

I'm really kind of doing this life thing on my own right now for the first real real real time. I've got my loved ones and a breakup doesn't stop someone from being in my corner (or I in theirs). Dykes don't work that way. 

Anyways, I'm very loved, I'm very exhausted, I'm learning, I'm stepping in to more of me, and I'm almost 33.  

 

Abracadabra

Right now, I am in Texas seeing my girlfriend. These weeks off in my life always provide a respite from my very, very full-time life. Working full-time and pursuing a degree full-time while healing from deep trauma in EMDR therapy and trying to have a semblance of a life outside all of that is pretty exhausting, I must admit. I heal and gain great clarity on these weeks. Maggie is very good to me. :)

We got caught up on Lady Gaga's new business and watched the Abracadabra video. I am now becoming a Gaga Stan. Something very, very, very deep and guttural found words in me through her art. 

I heard someone explain her new song as spell for getting through these dark times. I want to get up on stage and scream with her. 

Let me talk to you all about something. 

Y'all know my life has been a fucking mess. But let me talk about what happened after the mess happened. 

I dissociate as a trauma response, and do it quite often in my daily life. That means I feel very foggy headed and have trouble grounding myself into my present. My body and mind do everything in their power not to be here, and I am learning the reasons for that as we speak in therapy. It's excruciating. But alas, after the mess of it all, I was very seriously on the verge of being hospitalized. My body was running out of resources to cope with and there is only so much resilience one person can maintain in their body before crashing out. Two summers ago, I was horrified at the idea of finding myself passing out from exhaustion, non-verbal on my floor, dissociating to high heavens. Dissociation is a really fucking scary experience, especially when it's that level of intense. 

So I moved back to Indiana, for the temporary time being as I finish my degree.
I'm embarrassed by it. I fucking hate being here with every fiber of my fucking being.

When I moved back, I was in the middle of being off my anti-depressants and very quickly realized I needed to get back on them. As these massive shifts in my life were happening, I was learning about Gaza. When my sister came to help me load up in Columbus, she caught me dissociating and in explaining to her what was happening to me, she realized how bad it really was for me. I remember driving from Columbus to Indiana with my sister in a Uhaul, dumping on her about my life and the intense heaviness of having to move back home while two sentences later crying about Palestine. 

The world, and my world, felt completely ripped wide open. I've fought varying levels of depression since I've been back (though this time is much, much different than being here before). Even if I wanted to help the world around me in the capacity I once used to, I didn't have the resources. Learning about Gaza changed everything I understand about the future of things, both personal and systemic. 

In the long and short of it, where I felt powerless to help (as did many others), I saw kids dancing on rubble and singing. I had absolutely no excuse not to do the same in my life and country, though completely different situations. (And of course, may I acknowledge that even in my life's implosion, some of what I experience is an era of my life, not my every day. I see and acknowledge those for whom that is the case).

At the end of my wits and strength, I had no choice but to choose positivity. Sinking any further than I already was was simply not an option. If I want to effect change in the world, I must remain and I must find a way to thrive. There is no waiting around on getting people that don't care to care about what's going on in the world. There is only dancing. 

As the world falls apart, we have an enormous opportunity to innovate and to make the world into what we want it to be. If Palestinians can find their humanity when it is wholly unrecognized, we are privileged to wrestle through ours. Don't you for one fucking second give up on that. 

We need to be clear on what we want. Maybe we don't have that. I know it's bleak. I don't care, loves - Keep growing, expanding, and learning. Break down every barrier and bias you have within you. Dismantle the capitalism from within so that the capitalism on the outside matches the conditions. 

We are not fighting for rights and pleading to a system that will not care. We are creating new paradigms and ways of being by piecing together the fallen pieces. The world feels shaken and split in two because we (ESPECIALLY white people) are gaining clarity - genuine, authentic, clear clarity - on what capitalism actually is and how white and genocidal it is. Colonial settlerism is not a thing of the past, it is now and it is the future. Everything traces back to the system of whiteness hoarding identity while violently taking from others - I mean fucking everything, every branch of every 'ism.

If I were to give any advice, any advice at all to any of my white friends right now -- 

Stop listening to me.
Go read a queer, black person's book. About damn near anything. I have no recommendations, it's not about my thoughts. Go read. Learn to listen.
From my experience in social justice spaces, they are the people that stay when everyone else leaves. They are the backbone of this country and the world's progress. Consider this: The people most excluded by the system are the most qualified to critique it.
Then, and only then, can you begin to see why this American discomfort is not new, only expanded and in plain sight once again. 

If you're feeling like you don't know what to do, stop asking yourself that. Start creating. Start failing, and start creating. And if you've already been doing that, keep doing it. We fucking need you, you brilliant son-of-a-bitch. 

We cannot stop

We cannot stop

We cannot stop

We cannot stop

We cannot stop

If Lady Gaga, through her fibromyalgia, can throw herself around on stage while casting a spell for the times, so fucking can you. If Palestinians can dance on their decimated cities, you don't get an excuse.

Get up and DANCE. Claim joy. Do not leave it on the backs of people that will be/already are forced to fight your fight for you. Get the fuck up and dance. You are wanted on the floor. We built this shit built by fucking brick. We did. They didn't. Now dance.

Yo

I'm feeling slightly lighter lately, so here's an update?

I honestly thought I was gonna wait until a few more things were lined up in my life before I made another check-in like this. I've been a reallllll slut for privacy in this part of my life. It's SUCH a vibe, I'm so here for it. 

Anyways, I'm finishing out the last year of my undergraduate degree while getting my life back together in Indiana. I fucking hate being here so goddamn much and I'm sorry to my friends that have to hear me say that all the time. But I truly have continued to come to terms with the misery/sense of depression I get from being here. I've never felt like I fit in here - that's always been the lingering feeling. 

At any rate, I work with some awesome people that love autistic kiddos and it has given my sense of purpose and praxis so much focus. I wanted to move back home to focus on my career by getting through school and was NOT anticipating I'd be working in the field already. It's a beautiful ray of hope I didn't expect but I'm grateful for. 

Like I said, I'm not in leftist spaces anymore (for right now) because I'm over all the bullshit and practicing community with my co-workers is an unexpected but so so great development in my values. I've really been trying to embody my values instead of talking about them the past few years, while that has simultaneously meant showing up for MYSELF and being as available as I can be to others. I'm learning that I don't have to try more than I already try -- people trust me because I'm a real, ever-growing person, and that's all there is to it. That's the magic and creativity of life I guess. 

I'm already bored talking about this and as much as I adore conversations about life I also am so exhausted by them so like whatever. I'm T-I-R-E-D trying to inspire. I just wanna fuckin' exist. So like, life, or, whateverrrrrrr. 

Oh, I'm also still polyamorous but not really practicing and doing intense trauma healing in therapy. An average day for me.