skeleton

What day is it? Where am I? I swear I just spent a week in bed with you, I swear we just slept for two days on and off while people banged on the door. Last night (was it last night?) I poked my head out, I ventured out into the living room still mostly asleep and stupid with the comfort of being with your body, and this woman descended upon me.

Me: (Poking my head into the dining room)
Cori, at this point a complete stranger to me: OH my GOD, look at YOU!
Me: Huh?
Cori: Look at you, how cute are you! How ooold are you?!
Me: 20?
Cori: YOU LOOK SO YOUNG!
Me: It's part of my appeal
Cori: And you're so cute! (Hugging me and squeezing me, seemingly from all directions at once)
Me: Mff, grrff, schmff!
(At this point Cori actually lifts me off the ground and swings me around a little bit)
Me: Schmuff! Puttmedown

I've been wearing these black jeans and white dress shirt for ages and I smell like hell and my lips are red as fever. I am a giant succulent rose that has begun to decompose and has sticky, dense spots, the colors and smells of disease, cum, flowers on a compost heap. I have the brief urge to have a zipper tattooed down my front. I want to show that flesh is temporary, that wanting is a knife that separates the flesh from the skeleton, and leaves me naked as bones on your bed, after we have consumed all the parts.

digression

Accepted norms and gender roles in dating

Popular culture sets up a game in which there are rewards and punishments (mostly, the illusion of them, though with younger teens, the punishments and rewards often become very real.)The game also contains the illusion of winning, but in truth, the game can't be won, and for good reason. To have it all (to be perfect) would mean the end of consuming. Thus, the game requires a constant stream of products to simply maintain one's position; in addition, there is the looming specter of age.

"A Slightly Chubby Woman on a Diet"

In certain pop culture contexts, thinness just looks like a lack of something--a cutting away, a type of violence. There isn't anything wrong with being skinny, but it is much more beautiful to just Be.

Tsuris: Trouble, Aggravation

I am sick of replaying your comments to me in my head, and sick of hearing my therapist's derisive voice. I am sick of finding out after the fact that little has been like it should have been. I am sick of wondering when I am going to have a lover who really loves me, who can understand and want me for who I am. I know I'm complicated.














"I don't understand. Why can't you just be a girl who prefers a certain kind of sexuality with men?" -My therapist, with disdain
"Can't you--aren't there men out there--who would want to play the role of the woman, and you play the role of the man...you know?" -My father
"Are you touching your pussy?" -Brian, during sex
"You actually like that?" -Brian, while I'm touching his bum
"I feel like holding you down and forcibly [having intercourse] with you," -N., drunk
"You're not that hairy." -N.

I am not a girl who needs to be brought out of her shell or shown the tender passion of your lovemaking. I don't cover my chest because I am insecure as a woman. I cover my chest because I want me and you and the universe to understand who I am. You want me to be comfortable? Try accepting me as I am. I'll show you everything.

Image from trannypunk.com