oh, my love, this is our town...

it's leo season. it's never difficult times in leo season. and every town is our town...

here's the mission-

leo season playlist. name a song. more than one, if you like. any song that epitomizes this time of year. or this moment. the moment you're reading this.

i'll start it off with-

seeds of night- the cave singers

but don't let this playlist stay so soft.

ready. set. go.

i'll post the playlist once it's finished.

my heart throws sparks

while i make a habit of telling folks i love them, often, sometimes that just isn't enough.

so, when i write you a note, it is often signed with a heart, with little sparks throwing off it.

because i am just that happy. my heart has a habit of throwing sparks. in person, i'll actually tell you, 'yup, my heart just threw some sparks.'

now, the trick is not getting thrown off when folks throw them back. but i'm working on it.

and it's good. the sparks just aren't as good when the heart is under wraps. so, here comes the sun, i guess.

oh yeah, and maybe even some cartwheels in the street.

fence

i'm getting a fence. i'm really happy to be getting this fence. it means less stress for me. and more playdates for annie.

thinking about fences naturally leads me to boundaries. which have also been on my mind a lot. well, boundaries and vulnerability.

turns out, it's really easy to be stable; when i avoid any sort of vulnerability. now that i'm putting effort into my relationships, it's clobbering me.

i met a girl. i really liked her. i went to pick her up. at the train station. which, of course, lent itself to a 'sweet avenue' reference. she was foxy. and then some. and i turned off. because liking her made me uncomfortable. remember when liking someone made you feel good? now, it makes me feel scared. and insecure. and i present all the parts of me that i don't even like. i was, officially, a tool. because if i reject myself first, then it is somehow better. at least i'm not an asshole anymore, i'm just a tool. because i've never done this sober. i've never actually really been vulnerable to someone when i was sober. i'm not dry. i drink. but i'm not constantly manic or hammered anymore.

so, no second date for us. i was hoping she'd hang in there, until i found my pace.

and maybe it wasn't because i was a tool. maybe i'm stinky. or we're just not a match. but, the whole time, all i wanted to do was say, 'i really like you. i hope you're patient. because i'm pretty sure it's gonna pay off. i only get this way when i really, really want something. and when i think it could actually work.'

but, i didn't say that. instead i sort of knocked her in the chin with my shoulder, as she leaned over to kiss my cheek, the way that i do when i'm awkward.

rooftop talk

rooftop talk- this is not a talk you have with someone who is thinking harrowing thoughts while standing uncomfortably close to the edge of a rooftop. a rooftop talk is the teenage and adult equivalent to a fort talk. or tire swing talk. or terabithia talk. it's the kind of conversation that can only happen in perfect moments. usually when closer to the sky, but not always.

i was sitting outside the brotherhood with michelle last week. we talked. i haven't had a conversation like that in a long time. i told her stories i'd never told before. she pointed out a few things. i looked away even though it felt good to be seen.

a few hours later, i got a message from michelle. there was a mix cd waiting for me to pick up on her porch. she has a funny way of capturing moments with comp cds, like others capture moments with pictures.

minno by hot water music
if you hear this i hope it eases some troubles you left with i'm not sure what to say but i think i would've known that last day you said you had the goals to come out on top to set you up to live untouched by all the things that kept you from keeping up then we heard and we hurt and we scorned we burned for last words now lost the silence we sat through the breakdown the laughter the shelter and the future you planned on-i'll miss them i hope you're in a better place with soul set free i hope you're still singing loud with soul set free too bad you're not around for us to see but i still feel you around like you never left us

while the song perfectly references something we talked about, not me, i realized after having it repeat far too many times for my own good, that i've been trying to live untouched. those times i have offered myself, it's been with restriction, with fear, with anger. with the expectation that love meant heartbreak and loss, because the first girl i loved, who told me she loved me back, was lost to all of us, way too young, and way too soon. way too soon for her short life, and just moments after we talked. and she was lost completely without warning.

i didn't know how much i needed that rooftop talk. or how much i needed, and need, michelle. or how i needed to finally realize this thing i do. and i may just keep the song on repeat for a little while longer. because its been too long since i've been able to feel this. even though it can take away my breath, leave me speechless, leave me feeling seventeen and desolate again. maybe this time, i can finally walk away.

return

i went on hiatus from all things theory for a while. i wanted to see what being was like. make sure my being was authentic. it's not that i think theory is inauthentic. in fact, i think theory validates as it questions, it presses out the edges. theory even crumples the texture, for more surface area.

but, for me, i needed to step away. and time got away from me. there's so much more theory available now than even five years ago. i'm behind. on gender. oppression. relations. my language is outdated. my models are flat in comparison.

i'm listening more than talking. absorbing more than releasing. and for the first time since coming out, i'm questioning how to describe myself. someone offered me this recently-

from butch is a noun:

I know what butch is. Butches are not beginner FTMs, except that sometimes they are, but it's not a continuum except when it is. Butch is not a trans identity unless the butch in question says it is, in which case it is, unless the tranny in question say it isn't, in which case it's not. There's no such thing as butch flight, no matter what the femmes or elders say, unless saying that invalidates the opinions of femmes in a sexist fashion or the opinions of elders in an ageist fashion. Or if they're right. But they are not, because butch and transgender are the same thing with different names, except that butch is not a trans identity, unless it is; see above.

and all i can say is, 'yes.'