Music used to be an inspiration to me, but now it is locking me up. The sounds keep me from expressing myself artistically, because I am too busy thinking about the pleasure to create my own pieces of art. I need to open my eyes and remove the headphones. I need to look out the window. What do I see right now?
I see a closed market with a worker walking to the dumpster. I see people walking down the sidewalk, bags in hand. They probably took the train into the city. They’re probably going home to their husbands and wives.
Today I was driving down the street to find a man in a wheelchair just sitting in the middle of the road. Just sitting there. I went around him. Everyone feels like they own this town. The kids, they’re bad. The vandalism is becoming a problem. Graffiti, broken windows, cop sirens. This place is rapidly turning into a disgrace and I’m watching patiently, waiting for the moment when North Philly completely infiltrates my neighborhood.
The air smells so good lately though, I can sense my favorite season floating in the air. I wake up and make coffee just so I can dilute it with my homemade pumpkin creamer. The sounds of the cars, hearing the train as it passes by, watching men in business suits walking down the sidewalk- that’s my morning. I feel so at ease here. I feel like I belong here, like I am a puzzle piece that belongs exactly where I am located.
I enjoy the darkness of my apartment as well as the walk from here to the pharmacy. I keep my head pointed at the sidewalk as I walk, because I don’t want to make friends with my neighbors. I don’t know how I feel about my neighbors. I don’t want them to feel any particular way about me. I prefer that they never really realize that I exist in the first place. I just want to be left alone. I just want to live here by myself.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
My Lifestyle.
After receiving an email from my ex's mother in which she referred to my life as a "lifestyle," I needed to vent.
It freaks me out when people refer to my LIFE as a "lifeSTYLE." That's such an outdated term. I just am the way that I am, just like you are the way that you are.
I was sitting next to my coworker talking about gay marriage (he knows about me- I came out on a post it note that said "surprise I'm gay" with a smiley face). He had such an "us" versus "them" mentality when he was talking about marriage. I am not THEM. I am a living breathing human and I'm no different from anyone else.
It amazes me how divided some people think "we" are. We're just effin humans. That's it. Just humans living the life that makes us who we are.
I have trans friends and I've seen a lot of transphobia in my cis friends who have been sheltered and can't really understand anything other than a heteronormative barefoot and pregnant mentality.
When people refer to my life as a lifeSTYLE, I can't help but think of my trans friends and how rough life is for them. They are just people. It is not a lifestyle. Being trans doesn't define them- being a good person, that's what defines them. Ha, "them." Being a good person should be what defines EVERYONE.
I'm so effin sick of this "us" versus "them" mentality.
I know this one transboy in particular- he is adorable, he is smart, he is a HE. Hearing people jokingly say "it" or focus on the fact that he was born a girl is absolutely frustrating to me. Because when I look at him, I just see a cute boy with an even cuter personality. Yes, deep in the caves of my Nicolebrain, I have the fact that he is trans sitting on a shelf somewhere- BUT that's the way it should be... put my "lifestyle" as you would like to call it on a shelf in your brain somewhere, forget about it, and just look at me for what I really am. A silly girl with an even sillier personality.
THEN, maybe THEN the whole marriage thing won't seem to be such a big deal to you. We're all just PEOPLE.
I'm so sick of talking about "being gay." It shouldn't even need to be a discussion. Imagine having to talk about "being a brunette" all of the time and defending your brunette-ness. Imagine having to hold up a post it note that says "surprise I'm brunette" with a smiley face. THAT is how fucking ridiculous this all feels to me.
When I came out to my coworker he said that he felt happy that I "felt comfortable enough" to tell him that. In the back of my head I was thinking "um it's not a big deal, don't feel special." I only felt the need to tell him because our current discussion was gay marriage. It's not like it's some big secret that I was waiting to tell. It was just relevant to tell him at the time.
You know, like how your brunette hair would be a relevant topic discussion at a hair salon.
It freaks me out when people refer to my LIFE as a "lifeSTYLE." That's such an outdated term. I just am the way that I am, just like you are the way that you are.
I was sitting next to my coworker talking about gay marriage (he knows about me- I came out on a post it note that said "surprise I'm gay" with a smiley face). He had such an "us" versus "them" mentality when he was talking about marriage. I am not THEM. I am a living breathing human and I'm no different from anyone else.
It amazes me how divided some people think "we" are. We're just effin humans. That's it. Just humans living the life that makes us who we are.
I have trans friends and I've seen a lot of transphobia in my cis friends who have been sheltered and can't really understand anything other than a heteronormative barefoot and pregnant mentality.
When people refer to my life as a lifeSTYLE, I can't help but think of my trans friends and how rough life is for them. They are just people. It is not a lifestyle. Being trans doesn't define them- being a good person, that's what defines them. Ha, "them." Being a good person should be what defines EVERYONE.
I'm so effin sick of this "us" versus "them" mentality.
I know this one transboy in particular- he is adorable, he is smart, he is a HE. Hearing people jokingly say "it" or focus on the fact that he was born a girl is absolutely frustrating to me. Because when I look at him, I just see a cute boy with an even cuter personality. Yes, deep in the caves of my Nicolebrain, I have the fact that he is trans sitting on a shelf somewhere- BUT that's the way it should be... put my "lifestyle" as you would like to call it on a shelf in your brain somewhere, forget about it, and just look at me for what I really am. A silly girl with an even sillier personality.
THEN, maybe THEN the whole marriage thing won't seem to be such a big deal to you. We're all just PEOPLE.
I'm so sick of talking about "being gay." It shouldn't even need to be a discussion. Imagine having to talk about "being a brunette" all of the time and defending your brunette-ness. Imagine having to hold up a post it note that says "surprise I'm brunette" with a smiley face. THAT is how fucking ridiculous this all feels to me.
When I came out to my coworker he said that he felt happy that I "felt comfortable enough" to tell him that. In the back of my head I was thinking "um it's not a big deal, don't feel special." I only felt the need to tell him because our current discussion was gay marriage. It's not like it's some big secret that I was waiting to tell. It was just relevant to tell him at the time.
You know, like how your brunette hair would be a relevant topic discussion at a hair salon.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Freewriting with tears
I feel like rambling my head off. So I'm going to do a ten minute freewrite. Starting now.
It is now 6:33pm and I just got done drinking an ice cold glass of water. I hear the air pouring from the fan in the other room. My desk is covered in water from the sweat bubbles on my glass, and I just took an acidophilus pill to try to counteract my acid reflux. It was a very rough day at work today, but I survived as I survive everything else. I had plenty of cases to withdraw, hearings to continue, judgments to vacate, agreements to fax, letters to draft: but the smiles from the attorneys that I assisted made me happy about my hard work. On my lunch break I sat in my car in the hot summer air looking at the building that I work in. My shoes were off, I was squinting because the white sky was so bright. I felt like my break was too long. I had so much to do so I honestly considered cutting my thirty minute vacation in half. I am eagerly awaiting the falltime at this point. I've been dreaming of pumpkin lattes- pumpkin everything, really. I love the way the macadam looks blacker in the fall. The leaves pitter patter, the scarf feels soft yet prickly against my pale neck. I miss it so much. I always feel like I'm at home when it's the falltime. In the summer, I feel like an abandoned puppy or something. Like I'm lost and no one is looking for me. In the fall, in reality I'm just as lost as I am in the summer, but for some reason the warmth of my falltime jacket makes me feel like someone has got my back. When really, I know that no one really has my back. I'm pretty alone in the world. It's the way it turned out, I don't know. Will it always be that way? Ask my mother, my father. Ask anyone. They'll all tell you "no" but I definitely know that if it will always be that way: at least I'm trained to deal with it now. Holidays are vacant, my mailbox is always empty. No one visits. No one calls. I'm lucky for the few close friends that I have but when it comes down to it, they won't always be there. I know they won't. We all have lives. And it's sad because they have people that will always be there, families that are tight and will always be there with an arm around them. Me, on the other hand, that's not the case. It's been this way for years and as I said, at least I'm trained. I can live on my own. When I have big medical bills falling on my doorstep, I can handle it. When I need to get a second job, I get a fucking second job. I'm very self sufficient. But I won't always be... I often wonder what it will be like when I'm a lonely little old lady and even more alone than I am right now. Will I die unhappy? Or will I be okay, because I've been trained to accept things for the way that they are? Will I fill in the void with poetry and music, art and falling leaves? I probably will. I've always been one to cherish my loneliness just as much as I cherish the few times where I have someone holding my hand. But it makes me cry, you know, if I think about it too hard. I don't want to die alone.
All right. Got that out of my system.
It is now 6:33pm and I just got done drinking an ice cold glass of water. I hear the air pouring from the fan in the other room. My desk is covered in water from the sweat bubbles on my glass, and I just took an acidophilus pill to try to counteract my acid reflux. It was a very rough day at work today, but I survived as I survive everything else. I had plenty of cases to withdraw, hearings to continue, judgments to vacate, agreements to fax, letters to draft: but the smiles from the attorneys that I assisted made me happy about my hard work. On my lunch break I sat in my car in the hot summer air looking at the building that I work in. My shoes were off, I was squinting because the white sky was so bright. I felt like my break was too long. I had so much to do so I honestly considered cutting my thirty minute vacation in half. I am eagerly awaiting the falltime at this point. I've been dreaming of pumpkin lattes- pumpkin everything, really. I love the way the macadam looks blacker in the fall. The leaves pitter patter, the scarf feels soft yet prickly against my pale neck. I miss it so much. I always feel like I'm at home when it's the falltime. In the summer, I feel like an abandoned puppy or something. Like I'm lost and no one is looking for me. In the fall, in reality I'm just as lost as I am in the summer, but for some reason the warmth of my falltime jacket makes me feel like someone has got my back. When really, I know that no one really has my back. I'm pretty alone in the world. It's the way it turned out, I don't know. Will it always be that way? Ask my mother, my father. Ask anyone. They'll all tell you "no" but I definitely know that if it will always be that way: at least I'm trained to deal with it now. Holidays are vacant, my mailbox is always empty. No one visits. No one calls. I'm lucky for the few close friends that I have but when it comes down to it, they won't always be there. I know they won't. We all have lives. And it's sad because they have people that will always be there, families that are tight and will always be there with an arm around them. Me, on the other hand, that's not the case. It's been this way for years and as I said, at least I'm trained. I can live on my own. When I have big medical bills falling on my doorstep, I can handle it. When I need to get a second job, I get a fucking second job. I'm very self sufficient. But I won't always be... I often wonder what it will be like when I'm a lonely little old lady and even more alone than I am right now. Will I die unhappy? Or will I be okay, because I've been trained to accept things for the way that they are? Will I fill in the void with poetry and music, art and falling leaves? I probably will. I've always been one to cherish my loneliness just as much as I cherish the few times where I have someone holding my hand. But it makes me cry, you know, if I think about it too hard. I don't want to die alone.
All right. Got that out of my system.
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