Part of why I started this blog was to find the strength in my voice. Part was to process without killing off my friends with my constant search for answers to the changes happening at the time. Part, yes, was ego.
While I've been busy with gay pride and other work duties, and the JAMS Spread fundraiser really kicked my butt but I'm feeling good. The lack of writing isn't entirely because of these issues. I've been truly living it and so I haven't wanted to stop, analyze and put down my well-planned thoughts. I wanted more of the living. Fuck, I deserve it.
Little Lion's at my mother's home for a couple of weeks for the summer so I've been working more to prepare for my vacation time, and working on a manuscript. I've been hanging out with someone and it's been an interesting experience but, for once, I don't want to talk about it. I'm feeling incredibly fortunate in that I've been meeting a lot of women who truly are what they say they are and give what they say they can. La Deb, in particular, has been incredibly sweet.
I appreciate the wave of good women coming around me because the last few weeks saw me dealing with Cliffy's inconsistencies and her eventual realization she's not ready for a relationship, as well as Ya Vez's newfound rose-tinted glasses. She professes change and I can support that but only after I got past the hurt of her again acting/looking/behaving like she did when we first started going out (this time for someone else) did I realize change is not the outside stuff.
I remember realizing this when she came to the house wearing some purple lacey shirt and told me she was in touch with her femme side now. That's as true as trans women saying they are women (within societal contexts) - no, I'm not dissing the women but you don't become a woman (or a femme) overnight - that's true for genetic women too. It's culture/persona/spirit that must signify our identifiers and the change is slow. Ya Vez looked a little like a drag performer wearing that lace and it's because, beneath that, she was still the power-dominant person. A friend of mine told me long ago that she isn't lesbian - she's an agressor.
Last night was Fandango, the pride dance allgo hosts and there was so much gorgeousness. Besides that, Cliffy showed. While I can't say she can't attend, it seemed the cosmos was asking for a bump-in-to because I actually bumped in to her and said excuse me before realizing it was her. I was going to walk away after saying hello but thought it was rude to do so. It was difficult to see her because I feel like I want to tell her something but can't even imagine what words would come and what those words might be.
All in all, my writing is again moving. Mostly, it's processing stuff so it's not all good - it makes me happy to be writing it, nonetheless.
The dance was great - all the jotos rejoicing make my work worth it - but there was also racism - lots of white boys came in and, in finding out they had to pay for a dance, wanted to know who it benefitted. Once told, most of them left. Others haggled over shirts/not wanting to pay full price or claimed sponsorship and wanted freebies or just walked around subjectively inspecting. It's interesting to see how it feels every time allgo does some sort of larger event meant to address the general gay community - it's not selling out but it is feeling less secure. We are out there for mainstream gay consumption and, somehow, exoticized even more.
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