i die in the end

Pariah Me Outcast You

So if you’re transgender or queer or disabled or different in a statistically significant way, you probably have some armor on, or you have in the past. I did. I was bullied, ridiculed, harassed, demeaned, and belittled all because I wanted to wear some different clothes and emote a little differently. What a drag!!

Well, I’m well into my thirties, and I just joined the 41 club. What’s the 41 club? Well, the popular statistic found by The National Transgender Discrimination Survey says that 41% of transgender identifying people attempt suicide in their lifetimes. What?! Yep. Almost half. And I’m about a week out of my dance with the devil. 

Now, I might sound rather cavalier about the fact that I just attempted suicide, but the fact is that I had been thinking about it for a long time. Being transgender has colored my experience so darkly that I got a tattoo of a “Scarlet T” on my shoulder to prove it. I basically was saying “look I know I’m trans, and you think I’m a freak, but I love me! So suck it!” Anyway, so here I am trying to start over, again…

Being transgender means being a pariah. What is a pariah? Dictionary.com defines it as “an outcast or any person or animal that is generally despised or avoided.” We know what it means to be always ready to have to hit the streets and move on. We know the drill. We get it. We’re the problem, and you have the answer.

Well, I’m tired of being an outcast. I’m tired of being rejected. I see the world a little differently, yes, but I’m human. I’m not sorry that I’ve also used drugs and seen the light. You know who else uses drugs? Everyone! Every finger wagging motherfucker in this country is on some kind of drug, and if they aren’t on drugs, they’re on food. Food is a drug. Fast Food is a good drug.

I’ve taken better drugs than the idiots who thump the books, and I’ve also read better books. I’m not afraid of you anymore. I’m not a “druggie;” I’m a citizen. I fucking know how to use a semi-colon and write a pop-rock song for fucks sake. I can handle society. People who smoke weed or drop acid or do any other kind of psychedelic are not the problem. They are part of the answer. Humans have been using psychedelic drugs longer than your books have been around from the Bible to the Bhagavad Gita.

Also, someone born with male genitalia who wants to wear a dress or a skirt is not the problem. Again, transgender people are part of the solution. It’s just clothing. Society is so obsessed with uniform that it makes you think that The Planet of the Apes society was actually more advanced than our shaven ape society. It’s just clothing. Grow up already people. We’re all stuck here on this rock, and we have to get over this stuff.

So I’m gonna be me. I’m gonna walk, yell, scream, parade, and proselytize the good word to everyone I meet. We’re here. We’re queer. We’re not a degenerate cabal bent on world domination. Get over it!

p.s. if anyone knows who runs the transgender degenerate cabal bent on world destruction, could you forward me their email? I can’t get a job, and it’s getting pretty lame since I have all these magic, converting powers and all…

I Alone

Alone I sit
and wonder thinking
of days where horror’s on display
as if that were the real today
but yes
it is the screen you type to
the thing that blinks out “Scared Ya!!”s
till you can’t feel your heart beating
because you are numbness
why do people hate me?
why does my own brother plan on slipping in and out of my home town
as if I wouldn’t notice
am I that which is deplorable?
I started all this dancing with the dreams that dreams aspire to
but now I search for someone I haven’t seen on facebook
in a while
and see “add friend?”
not knowing where the minus was first

I have one friend
who nearly hates me
everyone I see
takes rain checks
to berate me

but didn’t you hear about that black trans girl who is nominated for an emmy??!
because emmys take away the “gross out factor” at a job interview
because emmys take away the “no eye contact” at the cash register
because emmys take away the “you weren’t the right fit” rejection letter
because emmys take away the “yes we could date, but DISCRETE!!” responses
because emmys take away the “show me your dick!” chat windows
because emmys take away the “you can’t see your kids” reality

I know there’ll be another new day
where sitting and dreaming brings hopes, not dismay
but how do the hollow men heap all their scorn
while secretly watching their new tranny porn?

New blog or viva la revolucion

Hey followers! (crickets…)

I’m blogging at EuropaSunset.com now.

It’s my new project to take back sex, drugs, and rock and roll from the consumerist patriarchy.

I’m gonna be doing original content videos, blogging, webcam, music, podcasts, psychedelics, etc.

Yay! Fuck the patriarchy in its tight little ass, with love, and trans dicks.

Machine learning

If a computer had to learn what differentiates males and females, I think its algorithm would be incredibly different based on the group of people it studied. For example if it was using Portland as its sample group, it might look first to facial hair as a large percentage of men here have beards. If it then took this algorithm to LA it might misgender a ton of men without beards as women.

I think it’s important to consider the relativity of gender norms when trying to “pass” as a gender.

One Foot in Front…


    Life can be and is an epic struggle for me. I’ve stared down the devil and reached up for the gods with arms wide. I’ve been lost in the emptiness. I’ve battled my demons until I can barely lift my head out of bed. I’ve yearned for my children with my last breath and last tears. The path I’ve taken was not the path laid out for me, but those who follow and I have worn it down so that we can walk with our heads high.

    I’ve obsessed about obsession. I’ve pained over my pain. I’ve cried because I can. I’ve surfed the emotional waves of Estrogen. I’ve watched the poison of Testosterone walk away like an annoying in-law who stayed too long. I’ve seen my body change into something that makes me smile just by being what it is. 

    I’ve learned how much work being a woman is! I’ve learned that at least half of the clothes I bought in my first year I will never wear again. I’ve seen having no money, but I haven’t stopped going forward because I’m investing in my children. I’ve hoped that my children will read this someday so they can see how much they were loved, even from afar, as I’m in exile.

    I’ve poured my heart out here and met so many wonderful people. I’ve hoped that this will help just one person keep going forward. I’ve lived without love and without friends. I’ve blamed myself for being shy and self-conscious.

    I moved to Portland so I can exhale and actually inhale the air without a chemical cocktail in LA. I’ve made new friends here and lost new friends here. Some of those friends I can’t stop talking to because my heart won’t let me walk away.

    I’ve put all this into song. I’ve been proud of my growth as a songwriter even when other projects are so bad as to be laughable. I laughed right now.

    I’m drinking coffee at a local coffee shop with hipster baristas, one of which is wearing the latest Amish outfit with a nose ring. I’m writing all of this down just to get it out. I’m finishing a post and reading it for typos, but I’ll probably miss one. I’m saying goodbye.

One foot in front…

of the other.

I love my new trans body!

My three year tranniversary is on September 1st, and I cannot be happier with the results of my physical transition. My hips have filled out beyond all expectations. I got a big ol’ booty. I don’t know if this is normal or because of the type and level of hormones I used, but I don’t care. My breast growth could have been more dramatic, but my genes were not really helping me in that respect. My family is not a family of buxom women.

I could use to lose a few lbs, but that’s just my own negligence. My face has softened so much. I think my height and frame are my only give away that I might be trans. But I could not give a shit. I just live balls out at this point (like that pun?). I am gender liberated. It’s fantastic.

I love being a part of this army of men and women, boys and girls, the soldiers waging war with self-acceptance and self-love. If you aren’t fully transitioned or you don’t plan on going all the way, you are still a fully valued member of this cabal bent on world revolution through the radical technique of spreading love and acceptance where there was only scorn and loathing.

Love. Every. Day.