Misha The Poet Laureate

Heading to a library to write, but first…

Current status

Good morning. It is June 1, 2026, and it’s a Monday.

Been offline for 4 days (well, mostly) at the ocean. Listening to the waves go in and out. Small coast town in the tsunami zone, waiting to be washed out in the big one. It’s beautiful here, though.

Drive back later today. Return to the mundane world.

Made changes to the phone. No more RSS. Realized it was the last twitch of a feed in my pocket, and I think I’m done with feeding for a while. On the iPad, with the other distractions.

Finished a notebook.

Pride month. Thinking about deadly sins. What are the actual deadly sins for trans women? Envy for sure. Lust for sure. Sloth for real sure.

Reading Early Morning by Kim Stafford. This time, cover to cover. I’ve read this book pretty much nonstop since I discovered it, but I don’t think I’ve ever read it from cover to cover. Kim has a plan and a narrative for sure.

Typing at the beach.

Good boredom.

Rachel Pollack On the Arbitrary standard:

What sense does it make to label some people as true transsexuals, and others as secondary, or confused, or imitation? Whom does such an attitude serve? I can think of no one but the gatekeepers, those who would seize the power of life and death by demanding that transsexuals satisfy an arbitrary standard. To accept such standards, to rank ourselves and others according to a hierarchy of true transsexuality, to try to recast our own histories to make sure they fit the approved model, can only tear us down, all of us, even the ones lucky enough to match that model.

Good morning. It is 2026-05-27, and it’s a Wednesday. Canceled the last of the social hang out for the week. Going to do laundry and start packing for the ocean today. Have an analog bag set up with 2 books (Up in the Old Hotel by Joseph Mitchell; The Solitary Gourmet written by  Masayuki Kusumi and illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi), a bigger notebook (for bigger thoughts), and a clipboard. Going to fill my backpack with 3 changes of clothes, and a dufflebag with all the soft goods that we need. Ordered a bag of preground coffee. Set up the sleep machine. Grab the fanny pack and hoodie and I’ll be ready to go.

Heading to the ocean for 4 days. Watch the waves. Eat good food. Wander the beach. Make love to the partner. Scribble in notebooks. All is well.

Google announces it is deciding to go in on AI search. I want to use a different, more private search engine. Apple doesn’t allow the search engine I want to use as default. So I download a different privacy browser and stop using safari for the first time in a decade. Weird times.

It’s not that I don’t care. I care too deeply, and I want to stay alive. And letting the deluge of despair into my constant attention will kill me.