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.

My Testimony, 2023 (if you will)

I'm sitting here listening to Tommy Green's newest project, xholynamex, and I'm surprised to find myself here. 

I'm listening to the first track, "Meet me Somewhere Quiet." I've deep dived into what he's been up to recently and discovered he's finding some affinity with the Orthodox church. Because of course he did. 

I can't tell his story - it's not mine to tell - but I recently sat in an Orthodox church at the local Greek festival. I'm not a Christian, not a religious person, and I'm skeptically revisiting my sense of spirituality recently. I don't think I even believe that Jesus was a real person, nor heaven or hell real, any part of the story really. But as I've aged, I've come to understand the importance of mythos in the lives of all of us. 

As I sat in that church, I was kind of overcome with just how beautiful it was. They're big into iconography and catch a lot of heat for it. I've found a lot of affinity in my own Greek heritage with the way Greeks create and bask in aesthetics. It makes sense the Orthodox church would be oriented so. 

I don't want to get into all the things I hate about Christianity, religion, the Church etc. You've probably heard it all before anyways. I'm no new voice there. 

But I do believe in dichotomy and paradox, and two truths co-existing in this terribly confusing world full of suffering and ab*se. 

I've carried so much intense shame about my time in the Church. Many of you that will read this know what I'm talking about. For those that are new to hearing about this part of my life, I'd like to try cracking at talking about it. I feel I'm finally finding the through line of truth and healing, deeply and thoroughly. 

I grew up Lutheran and attended private school until my dad had an affair when I was about 8. My parents were quite devout, but not in a strict way. I am very lucky that my two Aquarian parents are people that were just looking for a way to feel connected to something bigger than themselves and to involve their kids in what they felt was best at the time. Lutherans are also probably the most laidback Christians, aside from perhaps the Orthodox church. We did church and school, and then we did life. 

When my father had an affair with a woman I knew and admired, my world shattered. He was the beginning of my longstanding wrestling with vowing to never be as shitty of a leader as he and many other people like him have been/are. 

My family went through an extremely tumultuous time post-divorce. I'm not comfortable sharing it all here - I'm still processing much of it - but my connection to music was probably my own form of spirituality at that time. Mom always made sure we had access as a serious value of hers. Music can save lives and it certainly has done that for me and my family at our hardest times. 

I did not return to the church until I was 15. I was watching myself become depressed, struggling to make friends and to utilize those friendships for support when I did have them. I started to recognize that something was going on inside of me and I know what that is now, but a 15 year-old from small town Indiana with no language for processing trauma, abuse, and mental health had only the framework of my upbringing - Jesus. 

When I tell you that I found a diamond in a rough for little hillbilly Martina in Franklin, Indiana, I mean every word of that. I was invited to a local youth group at The Gear, a local music venue I had visited once before. 

Current Church was not your typical church. Most everyone that attended were covered in tattoos, piercings, gauges, sagged their beanies, clipped their caribiners to their back pockets, and many people had rough upbringings. It was a proper artist's hub - musicians galore that loved the same music as me, artists, photographers, tattoo artists, entrepeneurs. You name it, they went there. 10 minutes from my boonies ass home. 

I met people with completely different backgrounds than mine, and some with very similar backgrounds. I made friends with a lot of fellow kids with fucked up families, all trying to feel something like me. Youth group was like family to me.

I became heavily involved with Current, spending probably 2-3 days a week there for various services, band practices, service opportunities etc. 

I had a very zealous spirit as a youth group leader, and it was encouraged. This was a charismatic environment associated with Assemblies of God, a more modern, "non-denominational" kind of feel, and being "sold out for Christ" was the expectation. We spoke in tongues, jumped around for joy, sought after spiritual gifts, and strived to use our artistic talents for the Lord. 

This was my adolescence. My brain literally developed around this atmosphere. And it's a strange thing. 

I was developing my musical abilities alongside the nonsense. A hub to do that in the middle of nowhere Indiana? There was no letting go. 

I became a damn fucking good guitar player because I had to be, and I'm so proud of the shit I put out at that time. I wanted to be able to stand next to the metalcore dudes in my space. I could do things with my right hand I cannot do today. I'm a damn good rhythm player because Christian misogyny pushed me to be. 

As I was preparing to go off to college for worship ministry, the atmosphere of my church began shifting. My pastor was making poor choices and pissing off longstanding members and many of us were outgrowing the immaturity of preaching a message obsessed with reminding us of our sins when Jesus had already fucking died for them. 

A radical, very heretical "grace" and "finished work of the cross" theology began sprouting in the charismatic communities around me, and my pastor wanted nothing to do with it. 

I spent some interesting time around some interesting people as I transitioned out of Current. I think I honestly experienced my first commune up in Fort Wayne at the Firehouse. These were people intent on celebrating the finality of the Gospel and basking in the idea of completed Oneness with the Father through Jesus, being "drunk on the Holy Spirit" and I don't know any other way to say this, but it was a wholesome kind of open-minded, silly, joyful, charismatic environment. It just was, in the great context of Pentecostalism. Some sincerely liberating ass theology came out of those movements. We started questioning the need to obsess over work in our spiritual lives and began viewing it as a place meant for rest and healing. 

I'd spend time doing this in my spare time, then head back to class to realize I didn't want to teach people shame-based shit. 

We shed a lot of bullshit we'd been indoctrinated with in our respective cults. 

Unfortunately, the more I shed, the more I saw. 

My studies in systematic theology and biblical interpretation, next to my much more progressive thinking worship studies professor, helped me see the nonsense - the misogyny inherent in Sky Daddy theology, the racism in white Jesus, the constant splitting of denomination after denomination in the name of God telling me so, and what we called "legalism," or the Old Testament approach to modern life post-New Testament. 

I think, too, that as I aged, I began to recognize some weird relationships elders were building with me as an adolescent and it was just over for me at that point. Not to mention, I was having serious sexuality and gender questions at that time, too. And we all know how that goes in those spaces. 

(Funny enough, I think I spent time with nearly only queer folk, even in those spaces, that later came out. We always find each other, don't we?)

(I hope if you're reading this, you're also beginning to see the early threads I found in dismantling capitalism in my own life, before I even had words for it. This time in my life is why I believe capitalism truly is an abuse on our humanity. If you dig into yourself, you'll find that fucker in there).

When I left the Church, it was the single most isolating experience of my life. I only knew that I wanted to remove Jesus from my innermost experience of myself. I still love Jesus as a mythological figure - dude is sick as fuck and I can gladly make the argument that he was an anarchist. He was the first radical figure I really studied. 

I studied global religion for about 7 months and got just far enough to realize that it was the whole of religion that I really wanted nothing to do with in my innermost experience of myself. I'd spent my whole life doing it. I felt I owed it to myself to explore outside of that framework. 

What I found over these 10 years is that life is so much more uncertain on this side. And I love that, in my sense of spirituality. 

I'm currently kind of searching for something that feels a little more stable, but I am also currently riding the wave of getting off anti-depressants, learning to re-access my feelings and creativity. I think that's where my sense of spirituality finds its best expressions sometimes. 

I like to think of spirituality as being carried through the vessel of humanity. Rather, I think being human is the end. We're not vessels for anything other than shared humanity. I guess you could say I got real fucking curious about the human side collapsing in on the divine side of Jesus. And people truly are both. I think it's one in the same really. 

I think I'm letting go of being bitter, too. 

I've witnessed enough things happen in community space out here, too, that I'm actually so grateful to have experienced my time in spiritual communities. While it is seldom done well, there is an inherent sense of process for accountability and rehabilitation there. I've only seen it handled appropriately maybe a couple times, but it's a beautiful fucking thing when it does happen because it is wholistic. 

I'm disillusioned with a lot of community right now. I'm kind of building my own sense of it, and I sense that's what I need to be doing anyways. I don't think I'm meant to navigate this world in any kind of normal path. I have the potential to make something new, to pave something just different. There's nothing particularly normal about the way I operate or think. And I'm learning to lean into that. 

I'm entering what I think is my sabbatical era. I want to meet myself somewhere quiet, perhaps somewhere I used to keep the concept of God. I want to find out what my humanity means for me personally, and then learn what it will mean for me to integrate into others. I haven't found that yet. But I do get a little closer each day, and I think that's maybe the goal of ending capitalism. Maybe we'll all find each other somewhere at the end of the arch of justice if we keep practicing the discipline of bending it righteously. 

I want to name things for what they are, in community, in myself, in love and in grace. I want to find a new way to relate to each other. I want to decolonize as a white person. I want to place stones graciously over troubled waters and do the work of walking and transforming. Hell, I think I am meant to be like Jesus because we all can be. He reminds me that the path is laid before us from pavers before us. I honor them and hold space for more of them. 

For now, I need solitude. Healthy solitude. 

I am going to move into the woods, lean into my family, reconnect with friends, focus on getting my fucking degree if it kills me, and learn what it means to be a healer in a field that, like every other field, is broken and serves capitalism as its own industry. I want to flip tables and ruffle feathers in the right way. I cannot and will not do that without thinking holistically and humanely, and I have been on a journey of making my personal life more true to the path I am walking. 

No more letting other people tell me who I am, even those I think I hold the most affinity with. My energy is not up for grabs anymore. 

I am working on building what my therapist calls a filter. I am a beam of light in every room I am in. The capacity for leadership, to see shit for what it truthfully is, to transform and to heal, to inspire and to motivate, to fucking move - that is my value and purpose. I hold the capacity to adjust the temperature of whatever room I am in, not because I am better than others but because people listen to me. I am trustworthy and a hard ass worker at doing what I feel I need to do. I am not perfect, but I am not afraid of my imperfections. I am learning to move with less anger and more grace and learning the boundary that holds space for me to be me and you to be you in that grace. 

When I am done incubating, I will be an absolute monster.
When humans move, the earth shakes. We are one. 

To all that is for me, "If you want me, come and find me."

To my Last Ex

You’ll never see this, 

Because I won’t let you 

Same way I’m not letting you see me these days 

The last time you saw me was December 8th of 2021

It’s coming up on 2 years 

You did a lot of things after we broke up that you said you couldn’t do with me 

because your life was too busy and too chaotic 

But I’ve realized you couldn’t see me

because you missed the forest for the trees

as much as you loved feeling my breeze

you got lost 

and maybe you were lost all along 

I don’t think I’ll ever know that 

But I’m letting you go forever

And I hope we never see each other again 

You viewed my TikTok profile at 8 o’clock on a Saturday night 

i’m sorry you’re so busy you still have the time to gander my way out of a morbid curiosity 

and thank god, my profile looks old

you don’t know that my hair color and length has changed

what my girlfriend looks like or her name 

or that I’m leaving your fucking city for good 

because I’m drowning, a lot like I was when we were together last 

But this time, 

This time

This time

I am letting you go 

You vortex of utter destruction 

Like a moth to a flame: That’s the boundary 

The edges of me burn off the ends now