Wondering....

As I dull my cigarette on the tray wondering whether it will be my last before I die,
As I take a gulp of my beer wondering if it will choke me to death,
As my negative thoughts pass by like a train that never gets late
will these thoughts be my last before I die?
As I sit here pensively wondering if my anxious heart rate will cause me to have a
cardiac arrest,
As I listen to the animated chatter at the bar
bar wondering if they are actually happy
if every belly full of laughter is real,
Wondering why I can't be as animated...
as joyous,as grateful...
Am I normal?
Do the feelings I feel happen to anyone else?
Do other people question their existence?
Do other people want to take their own life?
Do other people feel sad,feel angry,feel isolated,feel lonely...
lonely and there are so many people around them?
Feel alone and they have jobs,responsibilities,partners,lovers,friends....
Do other people have moments
not forever moments but moments when they feel that this life...this fragile thing we call living doesn't actually matter...
I wonder....

Too many months..

Too many months have gone by
without me being able to write,
So many emotions pass by
without the ability to comprehend
the demons that lurk behind,
Whispers of not good enough...not worth
anybodies time,
Feelings of guilt everytime the toke is blown
out
everytime the liquor burns my throat,
Trying to run as fast as I can from the mind
Will I make it through this time...
the darkness covers me like a cloud of
nothingness
consumes my soul my existence my ability
to function,
I have become a lie told to everyone because I can't get myself to function
To talk,to socialize,to be present..
Too many months have gone by with a
ghost like existence
hoping for me to come home....

Time out...

Sometimes it's ok to give yourself a time out,
Time out from your thoughts,
Time out from humanity,
Time out from loyalty
from love,
Time out from feeling too much,
Time out from yourself
Just a freaking time out from everything,
And when you come back you will have a
new found appreciation for this so called life...
Hopefully...
Maybe...

Straws...

A conflict of the spirit and mind,
A disconnected-ness,
A bitter sweet-ness,
A warped-ness
A war of the insides,
A state of apathy,
A happi-ness,
A sad-ness,
A death of mind and body,
A dark-ness,
A lurking shadow,
A fucked up-ness,
An uncertainty of person,
A clutch at the proverbial straw....

Temporary

Bottomless pits,

dizzy spells,

heart beats,
hear bleeds,
mind weeps

slit wrists,

angry outbursts,

melancholic feelings,

temporary fits,

hope fleets,

will it ever end,

maybe it never will,

acceptance that some things

will never get better...

Today is not that day...

Forgiveness...a word so often thrown around...
so difficult to conceptualize...
A beautiful word in theory,
a gut wrenching one in practice...
That stupid wise guy...
"Forgiveness releases you and not the offender..."
"It saves you from pain..."
"It is most certainly not a free pass to the offender..."
you say...
But why does it feel like it is indeed a free pass...
Tears so bitter not salty anymore...
Anxiety the norm...
You broke a part of me...
You took away something from me that I will never get back,
you fucked with my trust...over and over and over and over...
In your eyes, I amount to nothing...
a worthless piece of shit riddled with pessimism and anger,
Yet the craving for your approval overwhelms my thoughts...
keeps me alive hoping that one day I will receive a "job well done"
Is there anything I will ever do that will receive praise?
Why is it that you are the one who fucked up but I am feeling
worse than you ever will?
How can loyalty be a choice for you and yet you birthed me...
you aint loyal... you aint loyal... you aint fucking loyal...
I protected you...even when I knew it was the wrong thing...
I made so many excuses for you...so tangled in my lies I was drowning...
All for you..you disloyal piece of shit...
It is easier for you to speck my eye yet yours filled with log...
You toyed with my emotions...took them for granted...you broke me...
Resentment...
Anger...
Doubt...
Sadness...
Darkness...
Darkness...
Darkness...
Forgiveness you say?
Maybe I will one day...
but today is not that day...

Gendering...

I haven't blogged in forever...yikes!!!
Not for a lack of content or writers block or anything dramatic, it's just some good old apathy...

Anyway, I really do not feel like boring you guys with a moody...cranky post...not today anyway.

I have been meaning to write about gender for a while now and since Caitlyn Jenner is now a trend...smh!!! I might as well write about gender today.

So I had just walked into a convenient store to buy a packet of cigarettes...just found out that cigarette smoking is in fact a nicotine addiction...that just like an alcoholic or drug addict I am in fact addicted to cigarettes. Funny, I had no idea ciggys were an addiction... I always attributed it to a bad habit that I am yet to kick.. three years later... I am still yet to break free from my addiction. Anyway, I digress...as I am waiting to be handed a box of poison masquerading as ciggs and I look down and see these Easter egg shaped chocolates called Kinder Joy. I have seen these chocolates ten million times before and so a change in packaging definitely caught my eye. The packaging was pink written girls and blue written boys.
This really bothered me. It pissed me off because the lady in front of me kept on insisting that her daughter take the pink one because she is a girl. It got really unnecessary when the mother was visibly angry at her child because she wanted to take the blue chocolate.

Now, this got me thinking about how humanity is working over time to gender people and things. Since when did pink become a girls color while blue a boys. Since when did we allow ourselves to get trapped in the viscious cycle that is gendering. Toys have gender...clothes have gender...animals have gender...people too are locked down into the binary cisnormative he or she genders.

At what point did we get so obsessed with making sure that everything fits into the pretty box that is gender. Why is it that pink packaging is for girls and blue for boys yet the content inside the package is exactly the same? Why is it that we are so intolerant of gender non conforming persons...getting so aggravated because "why can't they just be he or she?" Why is it that when I wake up every morning my biggest dilemma is how I dress as a queer woman... God forbid I end up looking like a man because the clothes I wear are gendered male..too butch... Or as a queer man wondering if the tightness of my pants come off too effeminate.At what point did we allow our children to feel restricted in choice especially for something as minute as a toy...irony being toys were created for fun but here we go gendering a fucking toy...telling girls to play with dolls and boys with guns and cars.

The only reason people are miffed by Caitlyn Jenner's transition is not because she is now a woman but because "why is she coming out so late...she is fucking 70 years old...she should have just remained closeted or made her coming out less open..." Shame on all of us. The fact that Caitlyn has been closeted all her life is because of people like you and me... a humanity consumed with gender. Locking people down in he or she boxes and stifling their self expression. You are assigned a sex at birth but gender is what you identify as. We however bring people up without considering that the constant messages fueled by gender are stifling self expression.

Growing up being told that because you are a girl or a boy you should behave like this, dress like that and most importantly have only pink or blue things. By continuously going around gendering people and things we shove trans and gender queer persons deeper and deeper into the closet. By refusing to acknowledge that sexuality and gender are as fluid as our nature of being human is...we continue to marginalize persons who do not conform to the binary notion that there are only he or she pronouns. By continuing to gender clothes, toys, activities and locking them down in he/she boxes...we continue to stifle our self expression as humanity.

Her...

I only realized I missed her...
when i kissed her..
I only realized that I crave her,
when I caressed her...
I only realized that I she's worth it,
because I didn't have it...
I only realized how letting go is yummy,
because she makes me happy...

What the Fuck!!!

Him:So tell me what you do...
Me:Blah!Blah!Blah!!!!
*shiftstangent*
Him:You know I have been trying to figure you out...I don't know if it's your style....
Him: The way you dress...
Me:How now?
Him: I am not quite sure..
Me:Tomboy?
Him: Nooooo!!!Tomboy's give off the 'hey I am a lesbian kinda vyb"
Me: Aaaaaaah!!!
Him: You give off that traditional masculine vyb...
Me:*faints*
Hahahahaha...what the fuck is that though...

Labels...shaking my damn head... 

Unpredictable

Unpredictability has always made me uncomfortable,
Certainty is something I chase,
Something I live for,
I always want to know what will happen next,
Unpredictability I am learning to embrace you,
I am fighting myself to trust you,
To go with the flow,
One minute I am extatic the next broken,
One week I am pumped and have energy the next lethargic,
One second I am elated the next I want to hide,
One month hope fills my soul the next thoughts of death plague me,
Unpredictability you have been unkind to me,
I perceive you as the enemy,
I wonder if things were certain would I approach things differently or would I do the same things over and over again expecting a different result,
The roller coaster that is my life feels not worth it,
It will make me stronger they say,
It is in your past they say,
It will get better they say,
Temporary this moment is,
Forever is waiting...
what if I don't want forever...
What if I don't want strength,
What if I just want to cry like an infant...
have someone sooth me like a toddler,
What if just for a moment I could be raw,
emotional,trusting,open...
What if just for a moment I could have a glimpse of certainty,
Just for a moment have the rollercoaster ride pause...
Unpredictability I will eventually embrace you...
but right now I hate you...

Small...

There is something different this time round,
There is a heaviness
a cloudiness
an apathetic crossroad,
Just do it
I tell myself
but that darkness
almost crippling
Rise up and fight
I cheer myself
It's different though
this time
the warrior has taken a nap
something on the inside is
working overtime to keep me small....

Hypothesis Findings

A few months ago I blogged about a hypothesis I have thought about for a while here http://bit.ly/1Cwew1X.

I promised to get back to you based on my findings and let me just say I think that it is a very real phenomenon this lesbian calendar.

I will not delve into too much detail mainly because I am kinda smitten. When this dyke is smitten her writing is no longer objective...lol!!

Anyway, let's just say that the amount of time spent together versus the level of intensity do no add up...hahahahahahahahaha...yes I am actually laughing at myself...have been for a while now.

I will give you all the dirty details but a bit later, let's see how far this calendar will take me.

Curses

I curse the day I saw your pain, undigested sadness, unexpressed anger, unseen truths as my own reflection.

I curse the paths we walked sharing our shadow freely, like friends on a confusing journey in time everyday

I curse the thought to question your darkness, to want to set you free from your experiences I realize it was my own projection.

I curse the bed where our scars crossed.
Where you brew colorful portions under Jezebels tongue to feed my lust everyday.

I curse the deep primal wounds that bridged our hearts,
mistaking unboundaried fusion with actual closeness,hiding in your presence such as I could not exist as a separate entity.

I curse the passion that caused our wires to get all mixed up
Your reflection
My projection
everyday 

Our wounds way of getting the best of us forms a destructive battleground.
I free you...

wound-mate
scar-crossed lover...free yourself

This is not your destiny.
This is not my destiny

 

Muthoni Ngige

Spaces and Voids...

there is a space inside us.

one that no matter how close

we get, this space can only

be filled by our own laughter

and our own sorrow. it is

something we cannot depend

on other people for. it is 

something we have to make

sense of by ourselves.

r.m.drake

Sometimes....

Sometimes reality gets really difficult
to wrap the mind around,
Sometimes to disappear
feels like the only solution,
Sometimes the future's bleakness
needs a shining light,
Sometimes that light gets too bright,
To crawl into bed and not move
is a feeling that can overwhelm,
Sometimes apathy takes over emotion
so fucked up is your life lens,
Sometimes death feels so warm
so welcoming...so cuddly,
Sometimes to flirt with the idea
feels electrifying,
Feels valid,
Feels like a solution
That noose on your neck
those pills in hand
Sometimes expectation and reality don't add up,
Sometimes life as you know it takes fucked up turns,
Sometimes it is ok to feel
the fuck out of your feelings,
Sometimes to let go
and flow
to unclench that fist of control
is to acknowledge strength within,
Sometimes to mess up, fuck up and pray for death to
come for us
is to acknowledge our humanity...

What am I doing...

what am I doing,

what am I doing,

damnit!!! what am I doing,

the way you look at me,

so intense,

like I am the only girl in your world...

the bubble created,

so beautiful,

so chaotic...

the way you touch me,

my body craves,

time a frail concept,

reality you cock blocking bastard,

I want to run away,

the attraction though,

so beautiful,

so chaotic...

what am I doing....

What am I?

So I haven't blogged in a while, mostly because I haven't felt like it, partly because writers block.
So this weekend I was with a friend of mine who is a friend of a lady I am crushing on big time. I have a healthy approach toward rejection or rather I have cultivated a healthy response to rejection nowadays. So I ask my friend what her friend thinks of me. Simply because I am not a believer in expending time, effort and game on somebody who is not feeling my vyb.

My friend proceeds to tell me.."she is feeling you BUT she is not sure what you are..."
Uuuuuummmmmm!!! I have ranted before about labels and assumed roles but this is not that blog.
So I ask my friend, what does that mean? She replies, "she is confused as to whether you're a girl or a boy?"
Again *insertwideeyes* eeeeeeeeeerrrrrrmmmm!!!!!
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmm!!!!
Aheeeem!!!



For once in my life I was left tongue tied, like zero come back.

I know that I am generally a really difficult person to place. I do not present strictly butch or femme. My friends call me a stem or futch but for some weird reason those labels just don't feel like me.
One thing I am not though is a boy...lol!! I could identify as cisgender meaning that I identify as female the sex I was assigned at birth.

She is straight rather straight identifying/bi curious, so I will forgive her for the insensitive terminology of "boy." The problem with heterosexuality is the binary representation of everything. There is this problematic feeling that someone has to be the "man" and the other the "woman" in the relationship, and because I do not come off like strictly girly or strictly tommy then that creates a breakdown in her minds eye of the binary notion that one of us has to be girly or boyish.


Get this though, I am not crushing on her because she is straight identifying, I am crushing on her because y'all need to see her, damn!!!she has the dykiest vyb ever, she is completely my type and she keeps my sapiosexual self pleased..complete mind fuck...sluuuuurp!!! Anyway, I digress...she also raised the question that she just does not get how lesbians have sex, because according to her that is foreplay. Again for someone who identifies and has always been straight, sex is pretty much dick in vagina kinda thing. The binary that is heterosexuality, then fails to appreciate sex as so many other things and not just physical penetration. I have had sex with men before and trust me I know how easy it is to literally just lie there get banged and orgasm on cue. It is so easy to be mentally absent because of the notion that being penetrated is the only thing sex is about.



Anyway, this is one of those blogs without much going on direction wise...lol!
But what am I?
I am a girl,
A fierce woman tryna conquer the world with lipstick, mascara and converse,
A feminist,
Health rights advocate,
A woman who has sex with women,
Cisgender identifying as lesbian who is still soooooo confused about labels....

Binary

When it comes to gender, people who argue for the third sex school of thought, argue from the point that the current gender position is that of binary. Binary meaning that the only choices you are given are that of male and female. This however, is not that blog.

In the recent past I have began to notice that sex is also quite the binary notion. By sex I mean that act that that the bible tells you not to have before marriage, the act your folks try to act like is not happening, the act that society makes you feel ashamed of, the act that individuals want to prove is not happening in their lives...in short... that act where you are both naked and giving each other pleasure.

I am the kind of person who is constantly reading about sex, I listen to this amazing sex positive podcast by a guy called Dan Savage. The kind of calls he receives proves that sex has been presented as a binary notion.

Masturbation is a privilege of the male species. Society has affirmed and made it fine for men to jerk off, be in touch with their member and know how to pleasure themselves in turn being aware of what pleasure feels like. Women on the other hand, are few and far between who touch themselves. I have had conversations with very sexual very horny women but they are very awkward about the idea of touching themselves. Being in touch with their clit, their vaginas, and their femininity is a very foreign concept to them. How do you know what you like in bed if you don’t touch yourself? How do you know how to pleasure another woman if you are not in touch, both literally and figuratively, with yourself?

“Show me your porn and I will tell you who you are,” is a stupid mantra I have. For me it denotes kink...people are crazy kinky and the porn they watch is such an indicator of how kinky their mind is...lol!! Again, porn is such a binary notion. It is ok for men to have porn collections, to watch porn and eventually jerk off to. Women on the other hand are weird around porn. I have met very few chics who are open about watching porn and the porn they have. Like what is so wrong with watching porn? Minus the fact that lesbian porn is shot for the male audience, there are so many other porn types that queer women can fall in love with, and pick up some moves, jerk off to and the cherry on top..cum...

Fetishes, three quarter of them are classified a mental illness the other quarter are not utilised because of the stigma surrounding having a fetish. Sex as a binary has been made to look like if you like leather or feet or bondage or dominance-submission or pain there is something wrong with you. Why is it that if your mind is not locked down to missionary or scissoring then there is something wrong with you? Why has sex been made to feel so constricted...so binary. Fetishes are cool, they are sexy, and they are dynamic...they open up new levels of orgasmic...

Homo vs Hetero sex is definitely the biggest binary notion of sex. It is so difficult for heterosexual people to wrap their heads around gay sex because of the binary that is man to woman sex. It is so difficult for most of them to understand gay people as people because they are so stuck on the sexual act. For men who have sex with men, the constant mental block is anal sex. But my argument has always been, there are by far more straight than gay people in the world, therefore based on numbers, there are more straight people having anal sex than all the gay men in the world combined. For women who have sex with women, the constant argument is that is not sex, it’s foreplay, there is no dick so how can that be sex? Trust me as a queer woman, I can attest to the fact that just because there is no dick, there is plenty of cuming, connecting and sex happening.

Sex toys have for the longest time been an issue that most people are very weird about. Sex toys come in literally all shapes and sizes and they are meant for fun. Sex toys have also been thrown in a binary position where women who have sex with women are left with a bad taste in their mouths after that annoying question, “why would you use a strap on (or any other sex toy) and you claim don’t need a man?” My answer, because a sex toy is just that, a toy. Where toys ever created for particular people to play with....guess not...

Society has locked everything down; let sex be, let people express themselves in whatever ways they want to. Let people cum...gaddammit!!!

Politically Incorrect...

I am that kind of person who is constantly politicking, and by politicking I mean I have an opinion about almost everything. I am constantly bringing up topics that are not conventional. I like to see how other people think and the only way you can get a somewhat accurate feel of how someone thinks, it is by asking questions that elicit responses that cannot be generic. Topics like religion, homosexuality, gender, violence,government politics, feminism etc are topics that everybody has an opinion on based on their life lens.

This blog is not the kind where I give my opinion about various topics, my question is, what happens when her politics and your politics are not in sync.
What happens when she gives a superficial fuck about things. My definition of a superficial fuck is the kind of people who just don't care. They pride themselves in wallowing in ignorance, "my opinion doesn't matter", "it has never happened to me...so what?"
What happens when we cannot have a conversation aside from gossiping?
What happens when I crave challenge in the way I think..but she has nothing to offer?
What happens when she is so ignorant about life that being around her has my brain wanting to explode?
What happens when her idea of conversation is those stupid memes?
What happens when wit, puns and sarcasm just float by her...clueless?
What happens when the sapiosexual in me cannot take this anymore...aaaaaargh?
Is it even possible to teach someone how to give a fuck?
Am I the one who is too much?
Should I reel in my curiosity, my thirst to know more, my yearning for knowledge?
What happens when you are politically incorrect and she is just there sitting pretty?
I don't mean that you have to agree with me...heck!even the more you disagree with my politics the more intrigued I get.
Just give a fuck...some type of fuck...
Have an opinion...nobody's opinion is correct or the truth..it's just that...an opinion...
What the fuck do you stand for..if your biggest conversation starter is the weather?
What the fuck are we supposed to bond about if you are the kind of person that keeps shit superficial...
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!
*endsrant*

Definition of love...

Maybe this is my happy place,
This corner at my local where I sit and mind my own business,
Maybe this is where I feel inspired to write,
Beer and ciggy in hand,
Or maybe it's the waitress with come fuck me boobs,
I just want to staaaaare....
I digress.....
I was having a sappy convo with a friend a while back,
Sappy equals "have you ever been in love?" type of questions,
And this has stuck with me for a while now,
Like really stuck,
Mainly because I have been throwing around the phrase I love you
without really considering what it means to me...
Love is such a broad word,
I have never thought about actually defining it for myself,
Defining it would actually make my life easier in terms of actually knowing
knowing what I want,
Knowing when cupid strikes...
I get lost in lust...then brand it love...
I don't really know how to define love
rather where to start...
I know it is a beautiful thing
I know for sure that my super logical mind gets super stupid...
more like stuck on stupid...
I know that my emotional centre is more dead than alive,
But I could swear that I have been in love,
at least I hope that's what it was...
I know that I am a sapiosexual...
Fuck my mind and my pussy will be dripping for you...
I know that ambition and drive turns me on...
I know that I don't give a fuck about physical aesthetic...
But I am definitely not one of those it's what's on the inside that matters...
Because some insides are not worth the matter...
I now know that love is not a feeling...
it is a deliberate choice to invest in another human being your mind, body and soul,
it is the deliberate choice to trust another even when you do not trust yourself,
it is the deliberate choice to be loyal even when that loyalty is to a fault,
it is that deliberate choice to let another have a glimpse into the parts of you that even you don't like to venture into,
those dark dark spaces,
those spaces that keep you escaping reality...self medicating...
it is the deliberate choice to be kind, to be true, to connect, to be one with another,
it is the deliberate choice to be vulnerable...
to let that guard down...
it is the deliberate choice to get each others politics...have an open mind to allow
yourself to learn and even when we wont let up,stuck solely on our points of view...agreeing to disagree is just fine...
it is the deliberate choice to love so hard, have your heart broken...get up..and love harder...
So what does love really mean to me?
Love is a deliberate choice...not a feeling...

Come with every wound and every

woman you've ever loved;

every lie you've ever told and

whatever it is that keeps you up at night.

Every mouth you've punched in, all the blood

you've ever tasted. Come with every enemy you've ever made

and all the family you've ever buried and every

dirty thing you've ever done; every drink that's

burnt your throat and every morning you've 

woken with nothing and no one. 

 Come with all your loss, your regrets, sins, 

memories, black outs, secrets.

I've never seen anything more beautiful than you.

Warsan Shire

I might as well just blog...

Sooooooo I am sitting at my local bar...
Minding my own business...as usual...
Having my favorite lager...
Listening to some reggae music...
For some weird reason the past three weeks have had me crave reggae music...
I am on my phone...obviously on Instagram..
I am tired though...
tired of looking at people's pictures...
tired of having that "is this an accurate reflection of their lives" debate in my mind...
So I thought...
I might as well blog...beer and ciggy in hand...
Should I blog about this random white guy who is so drunk...removes shirt to initiate a fight with the waiter...
No!!!let that amuse me..
There is very little to be amused about nowadays...
I think it's the darkness...again...
The very darkness I am constantly fighting...
Micro managing my mind...
That fine balance between temporary and permanent...
That fight to control a part of me that I am sure controls me...
Trying to be the bigger woman in a mental space that convinces me I am small...I am nothing
Self medicating...
Feelings of guilt plague me...
Apathy...regret...nothingness...
Darkness everywhere...
Light!!Oh!!!Light where at thou....
Is this fight even worth it?...
Then that reminder that life is worth living...loving...embracing..
You are enough...just the way you are love...
You are perfect...
Special even worth it perhaps...
Back again to fucked up thoughts...
Isolation...misanthropy...sadness...tears that wont flow...
Back to happy...
What is happy anyway?
That elusive silver lining...
So let me just blog...
To get out of my head...
Or let me just stare at this random shirtless white guy...
Beer and ciggy in hand...
Let his drunken state amuse me..
Have me laugh quietly to myself for the rest of the week...
There is almost nothing amusing nowadays...
So I might as well just blog...

of being labeled and other things...

In 2013, I wrote this blog, http://www.webofbutchdreams.blogspot.com/2013/08/of-identity-and-other-things.html. At the time I only knew like two lesbians at most, I was kinda out, one foot in the closet the other out kinda thing. But one thing I knew for sure is that I really struggled with placing myself in one category/label.

Fast forward to today and I swear I cannot be around my friends and the labeling topic does not come up. It comes up in the most heated of ways, people get so emo and angry about being "labeled". Conclusion always being, can't I be who I am and love who I love without being labeled?

Now, between August of 2013 and today I have really grown. You know that I am gay,so what?..fuck off type of growth..that kind. I am still the same girl who loves me my lipstick and converse but I have a somewhat different approach to this being labeled thing.

I think the problem is not the labeling, I think the problem is looking at things as if they are not connected. For you to be labeled as something there must be an origin. So where did the various labels come from? I think that by the time you look at me and decide that I am butch, femme, androgynous, chapstick, lipstick, stem, stud, pillow princess....yup!!that list is endless...you must using a reference of something you have seen, read or heard.

Let's make this political shall we, when you Google what kind of a lesbian you are, many sites will pop up some even have the pleasure of giving you a quiz..lol!! One thing you need to note, is the source of the answers, the are all Western concepts. Do not confuse this with the bullshit notion that homosexuality is a Western construct, it is the language they use as a culture. The fact that they have this labels means they are actually girls that fall into those categories. We cannot try and act like the things we do, do not have some sort of Western influence (this may piss some people off). So when someone labels you butch for example, they are referring to all the butch women they see on tv/read/heard about and automatically perceive you as butch and subsequently label you as butch...theeeeen you get pissed of that people are "giving you labels." Woooooooow!!!!You very special human being who wants to exist in a space without labels.

The solution for this you ask? If "western" labels are getting your panties in a bunch, how about you create labels that appeal to you and the culture you are from. You can keep on heckling and complaining that you don't do labels but that is one thing that is unavoidable. Labels exist so as to help people identify/relate with each other. A world without labels would be extremely confusing. And here I am not talking only people labels, think about a supermarket filled with products none of them having a single label on...fucking confusing.So instead of fighting and demonizing the label, create one that makes you feel like yourself but that label free thing, that is just a delusion that you need to snap out of.

Let's shift the conversation to labels and presumed roles. Now, here is where the problem checks in. The label is not the problem, the problem is the attached roles these labels come with. They may be gender roles, financial roles, sex play roles etc. For example, I tend to be the more dominant person when it comes to sex. A recent partner decided to label my dominance as being a top and subsequently this meant to her that it is my role as a top to pleasure her and not vice versa because she is a bottom or rather she labels herself a bottom. My problem is not the label bottom, my problem is the assumption that because she is a bottom then she has no role in sexing me. Or because I am butch and my partner is femme for example, then I am expected to hold down all the financial responsibility type of thing.

My argument basically is, we need to stop being angry at labels. We need to be angry at the roles that these labels come with. We need to learn how to separate these two worlds of labels and roles.
These roles are a social construct, made by people like you and me. The very people so vexed by labels are the very same people who live out those roles every single day. The world made these roles, and the world has the responsibility to change it.
We need to be so angry that we begin to REDEFINE and UNPACK these assumed, stereotypical, misconceived, mythical and heteronormative roles.We need to be so angry that life as we know it stops being a fulfillment of "expected roles" but a live and let live...

Don't Forget to Remember...

Don't forget to remember that struggle is temporary,

Don't forget to remember that tears are temporary,

Don't forget to remember that sadness is temporary,

Don't forget to remember that there is light at the end of the tunnel,

Don't forget to remember that it could also be a train coming to hit you,

Don't forget to remember that time heals,

Don't forget to remember that your dreams are valid,

Don't forget to remember that they could be invalid...keep dreaming,

Don't forget to remember that your future self will thank you for the sacrifice,

Don't forget to remember that you are worth it,

Don't forget to remember that you are good enough,

Don't forget to remember that your journey is yours,

Don't forget to remember that comparison is the beginning of the end,

Don't forget to remember that self doubt is crippling,

Don't forget to remember that possibility is yours to create,

Don't forget to remember that you are special just the way you are,

Don't forget to remember that giving up is not an option,

Don't forget to remember that it indeed does get better...

Who is telling our story...

The past weekend had me sitting at the Goethe Institute watching films being screened, created mostly by African film makers, from an event dubbed the OUT Film Festival. You can imagine my excitement seeing as I love films and this once a year event was screening films for people just like me...or so I thought...

By the time the third film was being screened, I began to notice a worrying trend. Where are the lesbian, bisexual and queer women films. The films were...excuse my French...a fucking cock fest. This got me thinking, that is, after I was done being pissed off...who is telling our story?

I casually asked the friend I went for the screening with,"what do you think of the lack of queer women films?" She casually answers, "Gay men struggle more than queer women ever will and so that's why film makers endevour to show the world that gay men are human too..." Eeeeeeeeeeeermmmmm!!!! Of course that answer bothered me to my core. Of course I was jilted by the fact that women who have sex with women are viewed as having it easy. Our struggle, is not a struggle enough. Who the fuck is telling our story?
I do not for one second blame my friend, after all it is a man's world.Gay men still enjoy male privilege.

Even as queer women we have been deluded into believing that to be lesbian, bi or queer is "not that bad." Why though? Is it a silencing mechanism like the way we have been silenced as women over the years. Is the badge of "no struggle" one to look at with pride or are we put in this position because to be a woman who has sex with women not considered real? Is the term "the struggle is not as bad" an indicator that we have won the fight against discrimination and homophobia or is it that women are simply viewed as less of...

Lesbians, bi and queer women, have so many things we struggle with every single day. From violence, to corrective rape, to social conformity to sexual health issues to getting babies by men we have no intention of ever loving to being labelled to being harassed for being queer to generally not being take seriously for being queer. For our struggle to be branded less than automatically means that we will never be given air play. It means that we will never be featured in films because the world views us as sexual objects only good for girl on girl, past that nobody really gives a shit about what we go through;who we are as women.

Why is it that film makers are going out of their way to "normalize"gay? Is their story more interesting? Are they flamboyant and we are boring? Are we victims of a world plagued by patriarchy? For how long will our story be branded as "other" "not that bad" "less struggle". For how long will queer women be silent...silenced!!!!

Who is telling our story?

Just a little madness

without a little madness i

wouldn't be able to feel.

and if i can't feel then i'll 

lose my mind. and if i lose

my mind then i'll lose my words.

this is how i love,madly

enough to lose myself

and feel all the things i

can't put into words.

r.m. drake

Solitude...

Getting out of bed gets really hard sometimes,

Trying to find excitement and inspiration even harder,

I just want to lay in bed all day in foetal position,

And maybe cry a little,

Throw a pity party for myself,

I want to be alone,

Switch off the world for a little while,

Maybe try and get my mojo back,

But for now,

All I crave is solitude,

That elusive solitude where even my mind shuts the fuck up,

The voices in my head,

Hurling insults and negativity,

So much good happening around me but tears flow down my cheeks,

So proud of myself yet so disappointed,

I crave solitude,

Maybe in my solace my demons and I will finally get to a common space...





One day you'll make peace with your demons, and the chaos in your heart will settle flat. and maybe for the first time in your life, life will smile right back at you and welcome you home.
r.m. drake

Sound track of my life

Somewhere between psychotic and iconic
Somewhere between I want it and I got it
Somewhere between I'm sober and I'm lifted
Somewhere between a mistress and commitment

I still been drinking on the low
Mobbin' on the low
Fuckin' on the low
Smokin' on the low
I still been plotting on the low
Scheming on the low
The furthest thing from perfect
Like everyone I know

Furthest Thing-Drake

I am Scared...

Maybe more of terrified,
No let's put it as scared shitless,
The Kenya Anti-Homosexuality Bill is back,
Today at 10:30am a political party brought it up again,
It began last year after the hot mess that was Uganda's Bill
but in the spirit of the selective amnesia that my country gets,
like clock work people forgot about it.
However, it is back.
My friend's reactions were very nonchalant because...selective amnesia,
The queer folk in my country are riding on the notion that the Bill will never
be a law because we forget so easily or better yet we have greater things to worry about
terrorism,poverty et al.
But my good people,
This dyke right here is scared,
I am scared because this is Bill is a message of hate,
It reminds people why gay people should not exist...
after all it is not very christian
It polarizes a space which we are fighting to legitimize,
It brings a feeling of otherness,
A feeling that we are less than human,
Mashoga sisi,
It invalidates progress in the 21st century,
It increases bigotry reduces acceptance,
Before my country men forget there will be a few days of weirdness,
Lack of comfort in your own skin,
Walking down the street feels like a death wish;paranoia abound,
I am going to meet up with a lady lover today,
This is the uneasiest I have been in a while, incessantly insisting that we just meet indoors,
I am scared...
I am scared that this vicious cycle will never end,
That queer and lurking in the shadows will always be synonymous,
I am scared...
that equality is something we queer folk have deluded ourselves into believing will ever exist,
I am scared...
that to love who you love will forever be plagued by religious and cultural bigotry,
I am scared...
that I will never kiss my lady in public,
I am scared...
that being queer will be the death of me
the death of us all...

Dear Diary

I stumbled on my 2013 diary a few minutes ago,
All the entries were filled with confusion, anger, depressed feelings
a general lack of belonging,
The entries were filled with fear of being out and proud,
self doubt and self hatred ruled those entries,
Entries filled with sadness and loneliness
the occasional fuck up of screwing men
just to confirm one last time if I am actually gay...
But my gosh!!how much have I grown,
like wooooooooah!!!
Taking that trip down memory lane only proves one thing
about the coming out process, self acceptance and eventually
being proud of who you are
It indeed does GET BETTER!!!

Lesbian Calendar

So, it began with a simple observation which morphed into a hypothesis and now I believe it should be a full on theory.
I have been observing the lesbian world for the past three years or so. By observing I mean, I have been watching interactions/relationships/hook ups and my own actions when it comes to relations with women. And now I am pretty convinced that there is such a thing or I wish to create the theory that there is a lesbian calendar.

Lesbian Calendar (n) aka my definition

This is the act of meeting a woman and in less than a fraction of a second you are in love or having sex.

Now, let me expound on this a little bit more. The lesbian calendar is not synonymous with infatuation or lust. It is an independent theory that I think lies in the realm of we meet today and tomorrow we are dating, meet today and in the next hour our fingers are shoved inside each others vaginas, meet today and tomorrow you are moving in, meet today and in a year we are getting married. The heterosexual world does not work like that though. There are stupid 90 day rule thingys, wait until the third date to have sex thingy, dress like this for the first date thingy...blah!blah!blah!!! There are bat shit set of rules that they follow or don't or failure to, gets you branded a slut/man whore/gold digger.

That however, does not translate in the lesbian world. I have been in a space where I met two girls who looked all lovey dovey and I ask "Oh!are you two dating?" the answer was "Yes!" naturally proceed to, "For how long?" "Oh!Actually,we met today and she is my girlfriend." "Uuuuuuuuummmmm!!!!!"*insert brow lift*

The above example is not an accurate representation of every gay girl out there, but an extreme example of how zero to sixty we can get. I, have been in situations where I meet a nice girl and in a week it feels like I have known her forever. The amount of shit we have done in that week feels like things that should be spread out in the course of a few months...lol!!! The crazy thing is that I don't view the lesbian calendar as a bad thing. I have just noticed that the order is sex/in love then we will get to know each other as time goes by.

As opposed to, first let me get to know you for a while then figure out if I want to have sex with you and fall in love or just keep it physical and bang each other.

There is also the other end of the spectrum where you have dated for a year but it feels like three, dated for three it feels like six. I have in the recent past broken up with someone and for the life of me it feels like I was with her for five years and we barely made it a year. Again, not at all a bad thing but jeez!!wasup with that though?

I have come up with a couple of answers for this phenomenon, that is, the lesbian calendar: One, women are nesters. Women are biologically emotion filled creatures and once you find someone whose pheromones match yours..lol!pheromones...that connection makes one day feel like a life time together.

Two, supply vs demand, the supply of queer folk to the demand for sex/love/lust is very limited and therefore making the lesbian calendar come alive.

Eeeeermmm!!!This is one of those add on blog because I am officially fascinated by this hypothesis, that zero to a hundred effect. I will keep observing and see what will come up this year...

Watch this space!!!

Excerpt from The Accidental Universe by Alan Lightman

I completely endorse the central doctrine of science. And I do not believe in the existence of a Being who lives beyond matter and energy, even if that Being refrains from entering the fray of the physical world. However, I certainly agree with [scientists who argue] that science is not the only avenue for arriving at knowledge, that there are interesting and vital questions beyond the reach of test tubes and equations. Obviously, vast territories of the arts concern inner experiences that cannot be analyzed by science. The humanities, such as history and philosophy, raise questions that do not have definite or unanimously accepted answers.

[…]
There are things we take on faith, without physical proof and even sometimes without any methodology for proof. We cannot clearly show why the ending of a particular novel haunts us. We cannot prove under what conditions we would sacrifice our own life in order to save the life of our child. We cannot prove whether it is right or wrong to steal in order to feed our family, or even agree on a definition of “right” and “wrong.” We cannot prove the meaning of our life, or whether life has any meaning at all. For these questions, we can gather evidence and debate, but in the end we cannot arrive at any system of analysis akin to the way in which a physicist decides how many seconds it will take a one-foot-long pendulum to make a complete swing. The previous questions are questions of aesthetics, morality, philosophy. These are questions for the arts and the humanities. These are also questions aligned with some of the intangible concerns of traditional religion.

[…]
Faith, in its broadest sense, is about far more than belief in the existence of God or the disregard of scientific evidence. Faith is the willingness to give ourselves over, at times, to things we do not fully understand. Faith is the belief in things larger than ourselves. Faith is the ability to honor stillness at some moments and at others to ride the passion and exuberance that is the artistic impulse, the flight of the imagination, the full engagement with this strange and shimmering world.

2015 Musings

Death a Necessary Evil...

when you lose someone you love,

your life becomes strange,

the ground beneath you becomes fragile,

your thoughts make your eyes unsure;

and some dead echo drags your voice down,

where words have no confidence,

your heart has grown heavy with loss;

and though this loss has wounded others too,

no one knows what has been taken from you,

when the silence of absence deepens.

flickers of guilt kindle regret,

for all that was left unsaid or undone.

there are days when you wake up happy;

again inside the fullness of life,

until the moment breaks,

and you are thrown back,

onto the black tide of loss,

days when you have your heart back,

you are able to function well,

until the middle of work or encounter,

suddenly with no warning,

you are ambushed by grief.

it becomes hard to trust yourself,

all you can depend on now is that,

sorrow will remain faithful to itself,

more than you, it knows its way,

and will find the right time,

to pull and pull the rope of grief,

until that coiled hill of tears

has reduced to its last drop.

gradually, you will learn acquaintance,

with invisible form of your departed;

and when the work of grief is done,

the wound of loss will heal

and you will have learned

to wean your eyes

from that gap in the air,

and be able to enter the hearth

in your soul where your loved one has awaited your return

all the time.

John O'Donohue

 

Stuck on Stupid

Maybe it's you,
Maybe it's me,
Maybe if I write,
I might feel better
or,
Maybe I am just stuck on stupid,
Maybe I am silly,
Maybe slightly delusional,
Stuck on stupid,
Maybe it's your hair,
Or is it that smile,
Or is it your swagged out self I can't get enough of,
My mind at every turn,
Is just stuck,
Stuck on stupid,
Maybe it's the dimensions,
the artsy,instrument playing creative,
the interesting,the sweet,the androgyny,
the mind,the self aware,the dance,the poker,the simple,the complicated
You crept into my mind,
Like that unsuspecting thief in the night,
Maybe that's why I am stuck on stupid,
Stupid!Stupid!Stupid!!!
If I could explain it maybe I would get unstuck,
from the quick sand that is you...