Hurt Me Daddy, for I Have Blogged

 The gibberish of a drooling cave-dweller... Showmanic Clown Word Salad Pretty fucking thankful a bunch of people tuned me out. Popularity and traditional success are just burdens. The more I get abandoned the more powerful I become. People have always been so upset that I express my humanity, vulnerability, nihilism and even humor so public-facingly. Damn. Get your panties out of a wad already. If social media is going to commodify us, I'm gonna use it like it's 2014. Laughter and showing everyone their absurdity is my medicine to the world. Some people need to get over themselves. BDSM and standup are hugely similar. Who is on top & who is bottom? No one really knows. Clowning and tension buildup, are we getting off already? Our faces hurt. It's gonna be hugely ok even if things feel not ok. Those of us who're tuned in know. Our ancestors lived through what felt worse. I'm not saying it's getting better, not at all. We just know better now. Half-formed, th...

I realized on a pretty deep level recently that I'm definitely not someone who's in the role of community builder. That is a very specific role, and extremely challenging. I've always described my job more like improv performer/ Showmanic Clown. One part of all that is humbly pointing out the accountability process--including all of our inconsistencies and hypocrisies as humans and also suggesting the accountability process for harm doers. The thing with all that is, first, who am I to decide? Well, I rarely am. I take cues from wronged people. Rarely do I bring my personal beefs forward, despite what people have assumed of me. It has happened, but it's minimal. You fuck with my friends? I'm gonna be asking plenty of questions, probably publicly. What if the person isn't ready for apology or accountability? That's something that happens often. When talking about transformative justice we need to be prepared for this eventuality often. The assumptions that th...

  It’s been far too long since I came back here. G--- J changed their name to Jazzy J, and sometimes their inners call them Jazzy They. Since they’re not really sure whether they actually have Roma ancestry. Are they still playing music? I miss the sound of their violin. Drifted away. Sibling, when will we make music together again? Will we ever put our hands together and make spells? “Maybe I’ll see you on the dancefloor later..” a friend says. I smile quietly. Maybe I will sway without thinking about it. It feels drunken out there. We swim in a Piscean sea. Are we happy? It doesn’t matter. I hitch up my boxers clandestinely and wipe a fleck of eyeshadow from near my tear duct. I look deep into our faces. Some of us look the same, or have aged in reverse. Under deep layers of makeup, our beauty and handsomeness floats, buoyed. But many of us have aged. The skin crackles and bows to gravity, to change and unspoken trauma. We stretched. We contracted. We gained weight. We lost w...

  I am trying to get better at accepting people of a wider range of personal opinions. My problem is not so much taking it personally anymore (or is it) but feeling that when a person says and does certain *types* of things, especially when it comes off with a tone that mocks marginalized people, it’s really hard to not let some of that reflect on the depth of who they are. But maybe I need to question that too, because a lot of people have oppressive, whyte supremacist programming that gets in the way of their truth. I do feel like we all have some level of bias/prejudice, internalized oppression or low-level bigotry. But at the same time, even though I’m trying to accept people with a wider range of approaches and opinions now, I also feel that people do show themselves, and I’ve been in so many situations where I was privy to things that no one else seemed to take note of, or that they ignored because it wasn’t harming them directly. That’s upsetting to be a part of too, because...