Current status
Trans as in transfigured. As transsubstantiation. As the new flesh, broken open for you.
“Remember, it’s not what you are called, it’s what you answer to.”
-wise advice from an older trans woman. You don’t have to give them power over you.
My goal could be excellence, or it could be openness. I’d rather be open.
The local murder causing a ruckus. Gus perched on the window, looking out at them and their caws and screeches. Neglected little computer blinking it’s cursor at the speed of a heart beat or a breathe as I sip black coffee from my hail satan mug. Day 11ity million of trying to put words to a life.
Last night, I watched a documentary about the “debates” between William F Buckley and Gore Vidal during the 1968 presidential elections. And if that isn’t the patient zero of all that is wrong with America…
Good morning. It is 2026-04-05, and it’s a Sunday.
Watched a recording of The Cure playing at this year’s Isle of Wight festival. Earlier this summer. Seeing Robert Smith as an old granny. wandering around the stage, sweating, but happy to be there, reminds me of the best cure album I have ever heard. My best friend from high school Sara was amazed that I didn’t know who the cure was, and made me a mixtape of their best songs from all their albums. I thought it was a specific album when I received it, and when I listen to it, I was like “this is the greatest band in the world.”
I never understood them being lumped with the Goth scene. I think the cure is actually more the first Emo band. Kings (and queens!) of the pop hook laced with emotion.
It’s wild, seeing them still playing in their 60s, gristly yet soft sweet boys, turned sweet old men.
Happy summer.
Military fly overs are stupid.