In a world where ‘things’ can be classified in an absolute way of this or that to the extent of zero compromise what is lost is comprehension of so very much. Yes, there is a time and place for the true / false, yes / no or equivalent measurement. The bar or line has been moved to include the immeasurable in the realm of only 2 choices arena.
When belief and opinion are defines immutable fact we as people have taken on a new era of complacency. Lost is any acceptance of what could be or the unknown. This has been replaced with an iron clad position. This smells so nefarious it seems to be killing the ability of the general public to smell anything.
I want to type wake up and smell the roses & I did. I also know there is a group who has some kind of, what appears to be irrational fear of a word in there. While I do not know even a remote fraction of everything I will admit this make little sense to me. What id wrong with being awake? I don’t want to live life sleepwalking through to the end. Again, I guess I just don’t get what is going on there.
Sounds limiting to me, 2 choices and that is all one gets or you can this or that and any other variation is off limits. This is a mental and emotional prison. I don’t want to live life in that or any other prison cell, why would I make a decision to do so if I did not have to?
Then there is more and more, then even more single choice, which is the absence of a choice appearing all the time.
I am struggling to understand this world with an attitude of ‘my way or the highway’ and with an ever increasing rate of occurrence ‘my way or die’ which makes me so confused and concerned with just how did we come to this.
Of a society enamored with Tweet size text bits and TikTok video clips I see something, or rather many somethings.
Be it attention span, the let’s just get to the point, in a rush to whatever – I find for myself that life is missing in the banter and arguments for or against whatever some point some try so desperately to make.
The addition, compulsion or fascination with this approach to sudo or false (as I see it) life will be here for the foreseeable future.
I can pontificate, prophesize
I may rant and rave,
or preach and protest.
Listen as you wish,
but blame and shame me,
critique and criticize
is not a role to assume.
Think for yourself,
to rebuttal or refute
what others would expect
Out of gilt, fear,
Think for yourself
and not for
the eyes and mouths
Or have we forgotten
how to even
think for ourselves.
In this world of Twitter size text and TikTok video clips if anything is not an entertaining or witty nibble then no attention is given. The quick immediate, boil it down to the smallest possible thing that only slightly resembles any discourse and this is where so much of what we see, hear or know about the world around us.
Conversation, even in-person is impacted. A quick text as concise as possible with as little words, effort and thought permeate how interactions occur in the human existence. We filter out all the beauty and wonder of humanity and just get to the minimum required to get on to the next whatever.
This attack on all of us is perpetuated by us all. The mindless minions of where we are as a species does not serve anyone beyond dealing with the crushing reality we find ourselves in. As a society of minions in denial we feel we are serving the good or just when the wolf in sheep’s clothing or the devil masquerading as an angel is so much closer to what is happening.
The busy schedule or the mountain of must do task corner people into this behavior. Then the immediate and temporary satisfaction or cessation to get to the next whatever it may be only puts a Band-Aid on the issues. While so many are bleeding out just to exist we keep slapping on another quick fix like a finger in a collapsing damn it is quite pointless, but at least we are trying or doing something, right?
No, we are not doing anything really, just meeting the minimum to feel like we can justify and claim that something is there, doing, being done. These are lies many tell themselves and thus believe. It’s OK, not a big deal, or any other way to deny what is all around us. Empty words to reduce the bad or uncomfortable and even worse point somewhere or to someone else with the accusations and blame.
Taking responsibility for much of anything has been taught, conditioned and beaten to be part of our lives and minds. If one can use a tactic to transfer a mistake elsewhere, we will most often do so.
Attacks in the name of save the children or they are bad people for whatever reason is finger-pointing to defer, deny, transfer blame and attention to others and hides what the accuser’s are afraid of, admitting any error, mistake or wrong.
When Trans and Non-Binary people are legislated out of existence where will those fingers aim? The accusations must continue by those in positions to make them and it is a vicious pattern. Once there is enough buy-in for their hate that the target is eliminated they must point the weapons at a new target.
Transgender and Non-Binary are a primary target today but you will be a target, maybe not next but soon. So keep turning away or denying and believing you own lies to make today easier. Make today as easy and pain-free as you can possibly do so as tomorrow will be a whole new hell when you are the one taking their fire.
Recently I was asked by a friend if I wanted to ride around on the way to pick up her daughter a little later. I texted back “I can put clothes on, what time?” I was wearing PJ’s contemplating how I could get sleep as I have deprived myself for far too long of this simple and essential part of living. With her response as it was I pulled off my pajamas and tossed on clothes. My smaller camera bag was already packed minus a camera. Into the bag went a camera and as I stepped out my door texted I was ready.
As we pulled away she asked a question that prompted me to tell a story about moments in my life and off my mouth went as my camera emerged and the shutter sounded with the lens looking out the window. We wound through the park, Golden Gate Park for non San Francisco residents. It was glorious to see people out doing what they do. Bike riders, walkers, joggers and everything else. As we wound through the Presidio I just kept chatting away with each ask on what I had been rambling on about.
I am always surprised when anyone comments on my incessant chatter that I am a good storyteller and have had interesting experiences. I take this as a complement and yet, I am just me, another person and human, what makes a good story about me and what I have gone through? As I think through this today I find inspiration.
My thought have turned to sharing some of these stories. How about a memoir style journal series of some snippet or moment as I recount the events that some find they like to hear. I like to write and I hope I can incorporate media of multiple types; photos, audio, mixed media of the digital and physical form.
This comes to mind, aside from the lyrics gender reference that is obvious to anyone who has the wrong pronouns lobbed like grenades in their direction is often more attune to, good match lyrically, kinda, but only knda.
I am flipping through the card catalogue of some of the vocal reenactments searching for one to recount here as a start. I think I will let you know when I find one I want to step out with. OK?
In the mean-time, photos for your eyes (and audio above, I bet you noticed that though), I do hope I might entertain you while I try not to get a paper-cut searching for a memory to tell.
Just why does this seem appealing to me? I ask this question to myself my description begins with the duh, obvious response: Maybe someone will like it, then quickly moves on to more meaningful things. As the story teller it could help me and may have the same effect on someone who takes this in. Yep, that is a big broad statement and says next to nothing I know. In sharing these stories there might be those who relate or see something in themselves just slightly different than before to nudge a part of them in the direction of whatever it is that it does, better be a good nudge though. Least of which is to entertain, but this is just a symptom or side effect. not a goal. Then there is those who might be challenged and to those the phrase “Art is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.”
When I start compiling these I will tag them with #memoir and whatever title is settle on.
It was not easy for me to have any understanding. A greater effort was needed to have an acceptance of what I want to express here. An idea that permeated so much of my life could be described as this. And still, it was and still is to some extent or another. As the title reads: Lies and secrets.
The hardest thing it would make sense to think is what I know, feel, think, believe and so on are based on something unknown or not understood. In one way or another the almost blind acceptance that I was there, I saw with my eyes, heard, felt, tasted, others did as well or whatever the case may be so that it must be, it is immutable as truth. This make so much sense and then when I look at life and the world around me, make connections and comparisons or see contrast it raises questions. One of those is the lies and secrets people have from even themselves. It may sound like a stretch to have this happen or to do this but think about it if you can. This is a defense mechanism for trauma or other destructive experiences one may have in life. An act of self preservation if you chose to look at it this way.
Then there is reality. Reality is not a whole and shared thing. Ones experiences in every form from observations to thoughts and feelings filter and augment every aspect of how we even take in our environment and as this passed through our own very unique collection of reality altering filters we do not even take in to begin with what is the base or source reality.
One needs a degree of trust in self no doubt, but a complete disregard for the shift in what is and what we see as reality is in itself a lie. In maintaining that lie hides those secrets we cannot even face within our-self.
Coming to terms with this is not a quick or easy process. It takes much effort and time that can not easily be quantified. The end is also fuzzy. The journey to where one might go with these thoughts is once again, in my view where to be and cherish, enjoy and learn from. This is no small ask to pose in my mind and I keep asking anyway. Easy is not a destination. The path being worth it is where I find joy. The struggle on the way, the small victories are the reward. arriving at a destination tells me I need to find somewhere to go next. If I stop and claim contentment, saying I am done then I may as well have died. When I stop growing, learning I see this as the end of living.
I will never catch every lie or know all the secrets I hold from myself, that is not my desire. My goal is to keep living, learning and growing so I am more than a just body with a heartbeat. My heart should beat with more, far more than simply a physical biological action.
Just like cleaning or making the bed, it will get dirty again or you will turn down the covers to sleep, they will need to be done again. I will never get to a place that the mental cobwebs are never to return. I will also carry some amount of emotional baggage. I can attempt to be prepared to clean and carry these, or anticipate and expect this simply is and move on to my next mistake I might transform into something better than I ever saw it before.
As I was searching through photos for an image I took an unknown number of months ago I located a video clip of what I photographed and changed my direction. The featured image is from the video edit.
And here is the 5 second video I tossed together, because I wanted to.
As I attempt to translate my thoughts into words this morning, the word fear is close the the core of those. I grew up in a place and in a family that taught and acted that if something can go wrong in some way, stay away or don’t do, avoid, etc. In one form or another this fear has separated me from so much. Add in my dad and I get a run away from anything that could possibly not turn out well childhood on.
I am not one to regret. I am not making a statement as such. Everything I have been exposed to, thought, felt or otherwise brings me to this very moment. It took all of the fear as part of this to help me to today.
In society we are sold fear in a relentless flashing neon billboard screen that is forcing us to pay attention to their marketing. be that your phone, TV, computer, The image or logo on that person’s clothes over there. It is nearly inescapable. The propaganda and mouth of the fear machine is often dressed in kindness or being helpful. The need to cover-up fear can look like just about anything. Instant gratification or greed, power, or the one that is easy for me to spot is this ‘whatever’ will make this or that easier, faster, etc. These are often as I see a band-aid to cover up fear.
Fear is the great motivator as I have heard it said. I remember when Steve Ballmer of Microsoft was claiming Linux is a cancer and the response from the open-source community was FUD. Ballmer was spreading fear, uncertainty and doubt. This sales tactic is directly related to what I am trying to communicate.
In the end I do not know. In the context of this, why be afraid if there is no reason to be. Sure, I am not pleased when bad or painful things happen but it takes mistakes, pain and all the disappointment and the list could go on and on, but these are not pleasant as it takes a negative reaction to have any opportunity or hope for real, true growth. Lucky is one thing. Being given what one desires is another. Growth does not just happen as it takes more than just work. A painful event and reflection leading to insight and knowledge are one path to growth.
As I ask myself today, why have I been governed by fear the past many weeks? I see in this moment that being afraid of something that is probably not going to happen or even if it is a low chance to, why am I running away from all those mistakes that make success if I just get through the tough part, take the effort to learn and then use new experiences to grow?
I am not suggesting wreck less or blatant behavior here. I am telling myself to allow more mistakes or to accept I may sustain some form of injury be that emotional or otherwise.
No stepping in front of buses or looking down the barrel of a gun but fall down, get up and keep going towards growth. I bet I will meet happiness in many forms along the way.
Can something viewed as fake or synthetic be seen as real either within oneself or in others? The default correct answer here is it depends in my mind.
I have and continue to struggle and this is one of the foundations in this fight I have. I need so badly to be seen as myself. This is not an easy thing to achieve as a trans woman. Others cannot read my mind or know my soul but they can see with their eyes. The human eye is powerful and influential to people as a generality and so often experiences in my life support this.
The conundrum is I do not pass as a cis woman and synthetic or prosthetics can help me get closer. The hesitation is I will not be seen. The temporary augmentation is not real in a sense.
I could get surgery or do any number of things to make changes permanent. I am not rich and I have work to do in my thoughts before I could, not to mention the expense I cannot currently afford.
I do have a few wigs and prosthetic hips. I have not worn a wig in quite a long time. I supplement with a hat to help me not feel like a flashing neon target. I do not wear the hips, I did once but that was a trial and not much else.
Back to my opening question, can something synthetic be real? I am not asking in the Pinocchio sense or can synthetic become organic but in the representation way. Can artificial be, even if within ones own self, real and not an illusion, facade or lie?
I have to say yes, it is possible. The person of my last post I think can testify to that, though I have not asked. I know this can be for myself and that is the true and final evaluation that I am looking for this morning.
As I know this can be in one aspect, how can or could I transfer this from an external entity to self? This is where the division is in me. I can bring sytnthetik into reality and it be ‘real’ but what about me? can I add something or temporarily modify my appearance and feel real, beyond makeup, clothes or accessories?
I have not found my place in this world and life at this point. I an pushing and pulling with more effort, endurance and strength than I thought I could employ in a much longer timeline by factors I cannot comprehend. While this now accessible and no longer dormant, the ability I still seek out on the path to get closer to where I must go.
I think often and as far back as I can remember the notion that represents how I feel; Am I alien and everyone else human or it it the other way around. I could put on a face and act a part to fit in this world but that is acceptable to others. This is nothing but torture to me. I am done and walking out of this prison of torture that is relentless wherever I am or whatever I may do awake or asleep. In order for me to exist in any way I must take that long, treacherous and steep walk out of this hell I have been too afraid to leave.