#I did not go to Peru I found that at the thrift store

[mmoxie]

Part 10 - Bounce

The Xerox Alto was a piece of shit. A revolutionary piece of shit, but just the same, with its vertical screen and crackling boot-beeps and grey-gone-beige-gone-yellow patina, it looked pathetic in ways that Dani found a little adorable. Thrift store adorable, flea mall adorable. Scoop the guts out and make it a fishtank, that kind of thing.

Craig thought it was the most important device he owned. He navigated the primitive interface as if visiting an old friend, so familiar with their life and their home that he could pick out the bathroom without asking. He cracked his hairy knuckles and pushed his bifocals up tight against his face, then flashed Dani the grin of a much younger, much less responsible man.

“You know how long she’s -snif- been waiting for a reason to come out of retirement?”

Dani gave Craig a sympathetic shrug, hands in her apron pockets. She still hadn’t undressed from work- today, with Seebs and Vinny safely stowed on the houseboat with a rerun of M.A.S.H. to keep them at peace- she had sped away from Turtlebees’ and wiped enough burger wrappers and empty paycheck envelopes out of the passenger seat to make room for Craig.

They were leaving Fish Camp for a while, braving the winding roads around Yosemite in search of a place somehow more remote than their humble town with its population of forty-three.

They drove with the sun at their back, illuminating the craggy, layered face of Iron Mountain as they bore east toward a site that Craig insisted would be necessary.

“Roosevelt got his picture taken there, y’know,” he said, helping himself to a bag of chips from the back seat. “You could try having fun with this, Dani. Take a few snapshots when we get there, huh?”

Dani leaned over the wheel and squinted at the road. Work hadn’t been going well lately- the fatigue was starting to set in. Turtlebees’ was supposed to be a cover gig, not a full-time responsibility she was meant to care about. She was tired of being Gina Lincoln, especially after having to firmly turn down Redd Lake and watch all his good will dry up when he realized he wasn’t getting laid. It kept her dreading work, and she already didn't really want to be there. –But turning him down had made the distance she needed to keep him alive. One push in the wrong place and the poor bastard would have been fit for the ashtray.

“Craig, what if we find out there’s no getting a grip on this?”

“Huh?”

“You said yourself, it’s not like we can expect to find something good at the center of whatever’s happening to me. What if we can’t find a way to put a cork in it?”

She flit her cigarette against the little cup she bought at the general store. No tossing butts in Yosemite. That would be a little much. Craig was quiet for a few, crunching chips and flipping over the Steely Dan tape they were playing before replying.

Drink Kirschwasser from a shell,

“Dani, I’m not gonna turn you in,”

San Francisco show and tell,

“I mean, hell, the idea of getting in front of cops after the life I’ve lead… I’d just as soon take my ass back to Peru. I’ve thought about it, too,”

Well I should know by now, that it’s just a spasm,

“But you should know, I’m about as qualified as it gets on this kind of shit. The intersection of planar, scalar, esoteric, geometric, signal and sympathetic, nobody put those concepts through the wringer like we did. Like I did,”

Like a Sunday in T.J., that it’s cheap but it’s not free,

“And I can do it again. When we get there, I’ll use the Alto to show you sides of yourself you can’t even perceive. It’s like living without mirrors, you know? How the fuck’ll you know what to do with your hair if you can’t see it?”

That I’m not what I used to be…

In the shadow of Globe Rock, Dani popped the hood of the Taurus and Craig lashed together a handful of junky converters until the Alto and the battery could have a conversation. The old, discolored machine creaked to life, and Craig hitched a number of homemade devices to it- a telescopic six-foot aerial, some sort of clamp made out of brass or gold covered in carved gargoyles fit to the edge of the keyboard, a gyroscope of some sort that bolted to the side of the screen and housed a pale blue gem- aquamarine, Dani guessed.

“Whew- okay. We’re going somewhere dark, but be gentle with yourself, alright? I already told you I’m no shrink, so if you go spiraling, well… the best I’ll be able to do is a ride home and a cold beer.” He squatted over the keyboard, the whole assembly perched on the flattest and nearest stump, and began opening programs authored by himself and his comrades half a century ago.

“Close your eyes and… do what you gotta do. Aerial is reporting one, two, three pings- you’ll be the fourth, and we can quadrangulate from there.” He flicked the gyroscope with his thumb, then closed his hand over the strange gold fixture on the keyboard and shut his eyes. “Latency’s pretty high. Once we get the linkage we need, just one or two baud should do us, but until we get it, it’ll be slow going.”

Dani nodded her way through Craig’s advice, but she wasn’t listening. She stared up at Globe Rock- ancient, ominous, and just as sure about this as she was. Her hands trembled as she raised them to the smooth, round surface and exhaled. Four seconds in, four seconds out- no fire yet. Good.

She closed her eyes tight enough that she couldn’t see the orange glow of sunset, and let herself drift backward into her own mind.

She saw Redd, and Sean, and Mike. She saw her mother, and saw Gina- the real Gina, from the lotto counter at Wilson Titlee.

That fucking store. Everything had started to fade, but suddenly she was right there again, gritting her teeth across the desk in the HR office, remembering how even as she questioned and quipped, her mind was reeling with actual problems the company might solve instead of stupid bullshit like this.

They pushed and pushed and pushed- Dani do this, Dani lift that, Dani can you pick up some overtime? Dani we’ve got a walk tomorrow, think you can stay long enough to finish this project?

They had ASKED for the very same labor she was being punished for! All she did was agree!

Mike… god, dude, you didn’t deserve it. If you had just waited long enough for them to call you, say you weren’t getting me back for a few days… none of this would’ve happened. If they hadn’t called me in for the suspension, none of this would’ve happened. And if that hadn’t happened, young skinheads everywhere wouldn’t have lost their stupid online role model. But she wasn’t supposed to live that kind of life! She was fine just punching clock, moving furniture, and going home to watch old movies with Seebs.

Wait, no I’m not. No, that fucking sucks too! I wasn’t content, I was too tired to move!

She was suddenly engulfed in a vicious eruption of fire- a ten foot pillar of flame reached into the evening sky past Globe Rock, then settled until it wicked from her shoulders and rolled down her back like a mane. Somewhere outside the angry depths of her psyche, Craig barked a triumphant little laugh under his bristly white mustache and clacked at the keyboard.

You don’t watch shit like Cleopatra Wong unless you’re numb to every other kind of stimulation in the world. I was dead. They killed me. Wilson Titlee fucking killed me!

The cloak of flame flared again, and this time when it settled, it clung to Dani like a bright, destructive aura. It was wild, burning the edges of her flapping apron, but she somehow willed it not to climb. That’s when she heard the second ping- and the clicking again- the device measuring “Zeners” was protruding from Craig’s back pocket, and it was hissing and popping like fryer oil.

She didn’t realize she had moved, or that she was looking at him. Her vision was wreathed in orange and gray, smoke pouring from her with every step. She hated that it didn’t smell bad.

“Redlining again. Christ over rice, redlining again. Sixty zeen, maybe more, no way of telling since the gauge doesn’t go that high,” Craig was muttering. He gripped his belt and hitched his pants a bit, then retrieved the multi-dimensional Geiger counter from his pocket and shut it off.

“Yeah, yeah. We know now. Big zeens. Strong reading, at least. Gremlins were getting hot, almost lost my grip. –Dani, are you alright? Our upload’s going- if you can just maintain this for a few, it'll complete its route and bounce back. Need a consistent data stream until then.”

Every muscle in her body was painfully tense, and her skin was taut and ached, sunburnt under her own corona of flame. She crouched to get level with Craig and saw herself- a silhouette at the center of a bonfire- reflected in his bifocals.

He wasn’t afraid, and that was something. She felt so strange- sick, sick with anger, like the only way to quench this feeling of ultimate violence in her heart was to take hold and vomit her white-hot agony into the first thing that moved. But that was just it- he wasn’t moving. Didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even -snif-.

“When we get the bounceback, grab that artifact we generated. The weird little nametag.”

“Ain’t that… s’posed to hurt me?” Dani’s breathing was labored, and tongues of flame curled up between her teeth, graying them all over again.

“It’s dangerous. But like we talked about, it’s an on switch. If we want it to be anything else, we’ve got to get it entangled with this pit of yours.”

“Do I need- gnh- to do anything else?”

“Look behind you.” He kept his left hand tight on the golden fixture, while his right hand fluttered across stiff old keys. “Fifteen tons of igneous granite. The Mono people used to gather here. Fresno Dome isn’t too far off either.”

“Why are you telling me this stuff, man?”

“’Cause I want you to think about it. First the Mono, doing what they do. They had an interesting diet, I’d like to try it myself. Then Roosevelt, probably sitting astride some big bastard of a horse and yukking it up about what he heard at the last Masons dinner. They were drawn here.”

“Uh-huh.” It hurt. God, it hurt. How long could it take for a signal to bounce around?

“And in 1961, Frank Hoyle turned up here with a suitcase full of ill-gotten lottery winnings and spoke to god.”

“What?”

“Frank was never one of us. Came up from Kentucky- we all already lived out this way. But we were still on campus, and before we ever got the work started, he was here, just like Roosevelt, and just like the Mono, and he made first contact before we made our first payment on the Alto.”

Dani’s head was swimming. She groaned and set her hands on the enormous stone, hoping to find her balance before she burnt up entirely. The Taurus’s radio seemed to turn itself up. When had they put Abba in?

There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando…

“We talk a lot about axes and fixed points, especially in this line of work. Beaver Math, extraplanar condensation, fussy atomics, Clairvoyant Klondike… but that’s just vocabulary words. You want the hard truth of it, Dani?”

“God, shut up,” she slurred, pressing her forehead against the rock.

They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernando…

And then he was gone. Everything but his voice, but he wasn’t attached to it anymore.

She stood on a plinth under a dome of darkness, casting her orange glow into a gray expanse with nothing in it but low fog that clung to the pale, smooth ground.

“You’ve been everywhere,” Craig echoed. His voice came from high up, as if the dome she stood under was the cone of a giant speaker. “Back and forth, up and down, in and out. Then and now, here and there.”

In this strange isolation, staring at her own glow reflected on the fog, she felt bile rise in her throat, the acid reflux of anger unattended and left to curdle. She wanted to speak, but felt like she’d vomit- just as she had with Mike. Every part of her resisted the urge, toes curling in her boots, hands clawing into the fabric of her apron.

His meaning dawned on her only when she stepped down from the plinth.

She had been here. In the dark. Standing in the shadow of a greater self, agglomerated of moments- ugly moments, hurtful moments, moments of shame and failure and inadequacy, all crammed down, down, down, so that she could build up an easy façade, 'take it all in stride,' and so on.

Why had she done that? So people would like her more?

They fuckin’ didn’t!

The fog began to clear as she grew hotter, brighter.

The only people who made friends with her were just as aggrieved, just as angry, and just as impotent.

That word stung her from the inside, and her flame grew angrier, revealing more of the dark dome.

A face loomed over her, etched into the stone. It was angular, androgynous, lined with age and lopsidedly amused. It didn’t move. It did abide. There was a magnetism to it- spiritually it was animate, even if it wasn’t physically.

The face of god.

Looks kinda like Marlene Dietrich, in Garden of Allah. –Didn’t Cyndi Lauper watch that movie in a music video?

“You made it,” the face intoned easily. The voice was deep and cool, but not unkind.

“Time After Time,” she answered, a little stupidly.

“Did you know Lou Albano was in that video? Played her father.”

“The wrestler?”

“He spent more time as a manager,” the face answered.

“I’ll be damned. Did you know she was-“

“Crying for real in the video?” They both said. Suddenly Dani hurt a little less. The face laughed.

“Alright. Okay. Are you Craig?”

“No, yes.”

“Aw, come on.”

“This doesn’t happen very often. I gotta get my kicks in somewhere.”

“So are you god?”

“Not really. Not the one they hope I am, anyway.”

Dani felt the corner of her mouth hitch in a grin. She didn’t realize it, but she was matching the amused expression of the face before her.

“Do I get to ask which one you are?”

“You can ask anything, Dani.”

“Alright. Can I smoke?”

“You shouldn’t, but sure. I’ve had a few nicknames. I like to tell people I’m Indrid Cold, but you’re a little too close to all this for that to work on you, huh?”

Dani lit a cigarette against the palm of her steadily-burning hand and took a long drag. “I mean, call yourself what you want, but if I’d think you’re hiding something- yeah, with that name, I would.”

“So call me Mangala, or Neto, or Bahram, or Lenus.”

“How long is this going to go on, Neto?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

Ah. Until I die.

“Could be a while. But you’re not a chosen one, and you’re also not a monster. You came close, the night you roasted young Sean, but he’ll come around again.”

“Well, if I’m not a monster, then what is?”

“Someone who likes it. Let’s face it, Dani, you do enough self-flagellating to sit the table at any old monastery you like. If you weren’t so cynical, you’d make a hell of a crusader.”

They both laughed at that.

“So what do I do?”

“What can any of us do?”

“Come on, man. Again?”

“Listen, you want answers. I get it. But you and I are in motion, right now. It always goes, it never stops. Ask your man Craig about that ‘langolier mechanism’ he’s so enthused about sometime. You try to pump the brakes, you get rear-ended.”

“So I never get to rest?”

“Not until you realize that resting and running are the same thing. –But with the way you go through old movies, I think you have a pretty good idea of that already.”

Dani sighed and gave the face a long look.

“Neto, Craig’ll kill me if I don’t ask while I’m here—”

“There’s a lot that man shouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, but…”

“You can tell him he’s right about the Nazca lines, but he’s on his own from there.”

“Are you two like, not cool?”

“It’s not like that. He just sucks all the fun out of everything. He’s kind of a math pervert. I’m sure there’s a lot of joy to be had in measuring the spokes of the Big Wheel or knowing the thread count of the Easy Chair’s upholstery, but that’s a joy I can never understand. It’s not an enlightened kind of joy. The man’s a real profligate.”

They regarded each other in vague agreement for a while.

“We should probably cut to the chase,” Dani eventually said. “There’s something wrong with me. You can, uh… see the fire.”

“I won’t tell you it’s a good sign. But I’ll also tell you that gunning for control is a mistake. You were striking on something interesting the other night, during Star Trek.”

Jeez, it knows about how I spend my nights. Kinda puts me on the spot.

“The thing about learning to like it?”

“Not it, Dani. Remember, you’ve been everywhere.”

And then its voice was gone, and Abba was back.

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando…

“Dani! Holy jeez, what the hell happened? I got the bounceback just now. You looked… you were gone, it was just fire standing there!”

Dani shuddered and ran her hands over her apron. Still intact. A little singed. Same with the woman underneath it.

“Did you- you’re right about the Nazca lines,” Dani blurted, suddenly losing her balance. She caught herself on the plinth beneath the giant stone and coughed up a mouthful of wet ash.

“The Nazca lines?” Craig blinked and adjusted his glasses. “What happened to you?”

“I thought you were pushin’ me toward that, with all your talk of Roosevelt and… the native folks, and whoever the fuck,”

“Hoyle. I was just trying to get you into a significant kind of mood, I didn’t plan for you to vanish! Where’d you go?”

“Honestly, Craig, I’m starting to think I went in.”

“In the rock?!”

“Yeah.”

“It’s solid granite!”

“Yeah.”

“…Yeah?”

“I think I did some Buckaroo Banzai shit. –Man, I’m still on fire, are we good? I feel like I’m gonna barf. I can’t turn it off once it’s going.”

“Signal’s strong and steady. Think you can stand up straight? –And to the East, you’ll want to cast your shadow ahead of you. Good frame of reference.”

Craig leaned into the driver’s-side window of the Taurus and flicked on the high-beams. Dani wobbled a bit, but turned away, and set her gaze on a shadow that stretched forward, deforming over the massive stone sphere.

“The Alto is about to produce a tone. When it does, close your eyes and think of… something really fundamental you can follow. Smoke on the Water, or uh… Billie Jean. Something you know by heart, okay?”

The old computer began to produce a strange tone. It was high, but it also hissed, and something underneath it seemed to pulse and thrum in a way that made her feel even sicker.

So she closed her eyes and sang.

“You could have a steam train,

If you’d just lay down your tracks,

You could have an aeroplane, flying,

If you bring your blue sky back,”

When she opened her eyes, her shadow had in some way peeled from her, no longer attached at the boots. It stood on the front of the stone, a hole in the headlight beams, eye-line equal with hers. She forced herself not to recoil from it.

“I wanna be, your sledgehammer,

Why don’t you call my name?

Ah! Let me be your sledgehammer,

This will be my testimony,”

It slid away from the surface of Globe Rock toward her- not hovering, not floating, sliding, like an abacus bead, on an axle that she couldn’t see. As it drew closer, she could see the time shear, the so-called langolier mechanism, damaging it. The edges frayed when they should have grown clearer. She opened her mouth to speak, and it opened its mouth to speak.

Fire poured into it from Dani’s open mouth. She clenched her fists as it boiled up unbidden. Her hatred for herself was dragonbreath, compressed plumes pummeling the ragged shadow, a stream of deadly white-orange trying again and again to make it disappear under light and heat.

But it wouldn’t. It was her, and she was here. And she had been everywhere.

It sang back to her.

“All you do is call me,

I’ll be anything you need,”

The song was infectious. Steady in her head. Peter Gabriel. ’86.

She reached out to herself. Laced burning fingers with solid shadow.

Reflections reflecting reflections. A two-dimensional shadow, half of a four-dimensional being.

It suddenly fell into her arms, a swooning dancer, weak and weary, dizzy and delighted. She could feel it shiver and sob in silence, the deep pit of her aching hatred and repressed miseries brought to bear in a way she finally had to confront.

It was her. And seeing it like this, unable to hold itself up under the weight of all these burdens, she felt her heart break at the sight of herself.

She had let Dani down.

She lifted her manifest shadow by the chin and kissed it, deeply, filling it with a smooth, steady exhale of living fire. It began to vanish, but she could feel it there, clinging to her, reattaching, coming ever closer. She didn’t dare pull away- not until it was gone, not until it was so close that it was her again, until it knew it was going to be safe. That she wouldn’t leave it. That it wasn’t all for nothing.

She numbly remembered the nametag as her fire began to die. She scooped it up from the top of the Alto’s awkward vertical screen and held it tight in her hand.

She felt her shadow holding it from the other side of reality and understood.

“I’ll take care of you,” she said. “We’ll be alright.”

If there was anything more to say, she couldn’t get a grip on it. She began to fade, and then collapsed in the headlight beams, unconscious.

<-Prev Next->

#IPYIHGU #dani from my bullshit #this one's a doozy

[wisdomvillage-blog]

Being Feminine as a Man: and how Astrology  helped

Once upon a time I wished I was a woman.

I wished my penis would disappear and breasts would blossom from my chest.

I wished I could be pursued.

I wished I was a mother.

Gender dysphoria me struck two years ago like an elephant running through a picket fence. I was the fence.

The winter of 2017 I was living in Bend, Oregon working for a wilderness therapy company. I was becoming more versed in LGBTQIA+ lingo and ideas of gender identity and expression due to our clientele and thus began to look at those things in myself.

I started shopping in the women’s section at my favorite thrift stores. I did my makeup and shaved everywhere I could. I tried to change my voice. I thought about going by Jade, even though Jesse’s already androgynous. I said the word “androgynous” a lot because I liked the way it felt in my mouth. I drew non-binary self-portraits. I remember feeling confused, fractured, scared of having to construct myself all over again. I was very unsure of who I was.

The root of the confusion was this feeling inside of me that I was more feminine than masculine. That felt like a fact to me. I am naturally more female than male. What tripped me up was trying to interpret what that meant.

I tried to label myself as gender queer, non-binary, grey gender, gender fluid-flux. I wondered if I was a lesbian in a boy’s body.

Should I transition? What the fuck did that even mean? I couldn’t even ask my friends to use they/them pronouns for me and I’m thinking about getting boobs?

I realized that I may be a little crazy because I had never physically been a woman so I couldn’t know exactly what it was I was asking for.

But I felt like I was feminine. That much was true. That was necessary to account for.

So. . . what to do about it?

Get fired?

Ouch. That hurt.

How about a mushroom trip with two amazing friends in which you realize that everything just IS?

Wow. That helped.

How about moving back in with your parents in Oklahoma, working at a Greek restaurant, wanting to kill yourself, hearing the call of Ayahuasca, flying to the jungle, spending a thousand years in Peru and returning 5 months later?

That may just have done the trick!

Honestly, I have no f*cking idea.

I don’t feel gender dysphoria right now.

It’s a year and a half later I still wish I had a vagina sometimes, boobs maybe, but I’m starting to like my balls more. There’s a lot less dissonance anyway. It’s nice.

A lot changed while I was down there.

I learned and accepted the perspective that I was born with a spirit that is quite feminine by nature and demands to be just that. I was also born with a body that is quite masculine by nature and demands to be just that. Where I had thought there to be discord, I found there to be harmony.

Now I know that I can have a lot of feminine energy and the body that I have at the same time.

Two of the biggest things that helped me reach this perspective were the study of Astrology and Yoga.

How Astrology Helped

While in Peru I learned that in astrology I have a Cancer moon and Cancer rising (Cancer is the divine feminine/mother sign in astrology.)

I was told that I am a very watery and feminine person. This floored me in a way that gave me permission to feel and be exactly what I had been designed as. My connection with the moon and the divine mother grew exponentially. I felt a sense of home.

I found astrology to be liberating in the way it allowed for me to contain both masculine and feminine simultaneously.

It even went a step further in illuminating how they may sit and move within me.

Mini astrology lesson

Your birth chart is the play that is you.

The planets are like actors, the signs are the characters they play and the houses are the stages/sets they act on.

There are twelve signs/characters: Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces.

Cancer represents the archetype of the moon/divine feminine/mother.

Leo represents the archetype of the sun/divine masculine/father.

The Mother and Father are two of twelve archetypes/characters that are played into in life.

Personally, I have a tendency to play out the character of Cancer/mother.

Realizing that about myself, I gave my permission for that to be an okay part of me that I didn’t need to hide.

To make another related point,

Everyone has the sun and moon somewhere in their astrological birth chart.

The Sun is an actor in the play who is the divine masculine, and he will play one of twelve characters.

The actor that is my Sun plays the character of Sagittarius (philosopher/teacher/traveler) in my play.

The Moon is an actress in the play who is the divine feminine, and she will play one of twelve characters in the play that is you.

The actress that is my Moon plays the character of Cancer, which is to say she plays herself, in my personal play. My Moon also plays the character of herself in the position of the Rising sign, which is to say, the lead role.

Everyone has the divine masculine and divine feminine within them.

We can use astrology to see where those energies may lie, we can intuit them without help, or we can just observe them as they play out in our lives.

Where I’m at Now

The gender dysphoria faded as I learned more about the masculine and feminine energies that reside within me, but this natural lean towards the feminine seemed to be a long arc in my story.

Once I accepted the role of the Moon, Cancer and the Mother in my life, I began to explore what that meant. Who was this archetype of woman who was so pervasive in my life?

The Moon/Mother/Feminine was at once familiar and foreign to me.

I wished to understand myself better by understanding her.

Who is She?

Full Moon mother, Gaia,

Kali Kali, Durga,

Silver water witchcraft

Screams that tear the world during childbirth

Love that holds your bloody mess

She let you feed off of her!

Your father planted a seed in the ground with his thumb

and the Earth, she held you,

fed you, watered you,

let you grow in her.

She held you up as you sprouted high and she will

hold you when your leaves fall

to transmute in her once again.

This is something of a fraction of what I think she is,

what I think I am.

Two years ago I was contouring my face with makeup to appear more like how I felt inside. Now I wonder what it means to be the divine mother. What is it to be mother earth herself?

The truth of it is I don’t know. The truth is I’m still on this journey right now.

The rain drops softly and I am reminded that I am woman.

I watch my friend Rose get her period on a hike and give her blood back to the earth and am reminded that she is woman and I do not have a womb that bleeds.

I feel my sacral chakra grow and I am reminded that I am woman.

I watch women come and go from the sacred Moon Lodge at the Sun Dance, a place I cannot go, and am reminded that I am man, encouraged that I am man.

I follow and flow around you and am reminded that I am woman.

I look in a mirror and wonder what my role as masculine body and feminine-inclined spirit may be.

Now, in the mirror, where I used to look and cringe, I look with curiosity.

“Who are you, old child?

How many grandmas and grandpas sit and smile out of your eyes?”

With a cheeky smile and a breathing into my essence, I walk,

As woman, as man,

As whole.

For more stories, articles, courses, books and the upcoming podcast, head over to wisdomvillage.net

#genderqueer #gender nonconforming #gender dysphoria #astrology #spirituality

[barlow-wigiimschmeir-blog]

Vermont

On May 11th, I packed a colorful woven bag from Peru with clothes, an extra pair of shoes, watercolors, a hygiene bag full of makeup and condoms, and my traveling vest. The evening I left my dad bought me a pack of yellow American spirits with 40 bucks tucked inside the plastic cover and said, “Have fun in Vermont.” I got into Boston at 6:30 A.M. My right red heeled boot was broken from Louie chewing on it and wouldn't zip up.  I never am able to sleep on planes and the two hour time jump had me especially groggy after a night of no sleep. Walking out of gate A, I shifted my anxiety onto focusing on not tripping with my broken boot, a lopsided stride to match the anxiety mounting over my decision to visit Dan. When I saw him though, standing next to the elevator with a sheepish half grin on his face, I completely forgot about my worry and lack of sleep.  He was visibly excited to see me as he grabbed my bag and threw it over his shoulder. His piercing bright baby blues were mischievously and adoringly taking me in, and I remembered that look. He's looked at me in the exact same way ever since the first day we met. I don't remember what our first words were after 2 drawn-out years of much absence but we talked fast as we walked to the car.

Two scruffy looking guys were in the front seat. The driver's name was kyle, he talked with a slow stoner drawl. The passenger's name was Austin. He had a trucker hat with a psychedelic looking mother Mary on the front. He was tall and seemed completely uninterested in being there. The boys had driven the 3 hour drive from Rochester, Vermont last night. They partied in Boston together and then crashed in the car in the airport car garage waiting for my plane to get in. Dan had paid Kyle 50 bucks to come pick me up. He had also paid for my ticket to Boston from Salt Lake.  It felt very natural to see him, it didn't feel like nearly 3 years had passed since we last spoke tenderly towards each other. He had his pursed lip impish smile on  while his bright eyes sparkled. “It's so fucking good to see you lady.” I laughed as I took a large pull from the JackDaniels in the backseat and  curled up onto his chest, I couldn't be next to him and not touch him. He smelled like tobacco and beer,  his arms easily and urgently wrapped themselves around me. His beard was scruffy and though he looked aged, his countenance was worlds better than the last time I saw him. When he came through Portland a year ½ prior I let him and Rudie pup crash at the house I was living. It  broke my heart to see him so hard out. His legs and arms were distended, his whole body swelling. his face was sunken in and his eyes looked like empty gaps in his face. He looked exhausted and sallow.  We met at a late night donut shop near my house on Alberta. His body couldn't handle coffee and he had a hard time eating the donut I bought him, but he sat with me while I tried not to stare too hard at the stranger in front of me. He wasn't a stranger though, He wanted to know how my father was. Was he sober? Were we talking again? What where my days like now? And many, “remember when...”. He regretfully apologized for the way he had treated me on the road and explained to me that his kidneys were failing due to his heavy drug use. He was ready to quite using he said. He was scared he said. It was a 20 minute walk back to my home and he walked slowly with his head down as he struggled to  trudge on next to me on the sidewalk, attempting to pull rudie a long and regularly adjusting his lumpy backpack back and forth. He looked so pathetic.  When we got back to my place I introduced him to my then partner. We all sat down for a couple beers, Dan was nodding off on the  couch the whole time. I was livid at how obvious he was being after inviting him into my home. I retreated to the basement and sobbed.

This time around he was lively and talkative, making everyone in the car laugh with his dry sense of humor and sharp wit. His face was flushed with color and playfulness.  He was the Dan I remembered. He was the man I fell in love with again. The 3 hour drive back was filled with conversation of astrology, bouts of  bitching between the boys of the freeloading hippies that lived on the communal property they all were a part of, and talk of the land surrounding their home; the psychic energy of the heavy woods and rolling mountains. Neither one of us was able to go very long without stealing a long look at the other.  I was relatively drunk by the time 10 A.M rolled around, dozing on his chest as we pulled into the property. His Cabin was dirty and dusty and it smelled of sage and cigarettes. Beer cans littered the porch he had recently built and jackdaniel bottles lined the window-seal in the tiny room off shooting the kitchen. Before he went to work he showed me the library. Up a set of steep stairs was a small room, you had to duck into it and the ceiling dramatically slanted. Books lined the walls with a tiny vintage record player in the corner. I laid down on the floor and he laid besides me, laying my head on his chest he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as he played with my hair. There was a dense yet comfortable silence in the room until he said “awh.. fuck it.”  He softly grabbed my hair with one hand and placed his other hand on my cheek. His rough hands pulled my face up to his. His lips were like pillows and I softly moaned as his tongue slipped into my mouth. His thigh quickly found a place between mine and he easily shifted my body back and forth so my pussy was lightly rubbing against his thigh. His lips were on my neck and his fingers gently pinching my nipples.  I was dazed from his touch, the whiskey, and no sleep. The moment felt easy to lean into, but too soon after such a long time apart.  I stopped him from unzipping my jeans and he somewhat regretfully rolled back over so my head could find a place again on his chest.  Again he said, “It's so fucking good to see you.” again, I laughed and my laugh sounded like bells in the room.

The week that followed was a roller coaster of crushed ideals, regrowth in emotion, and endearing car rides with a boy it breaks my heart to love. The love I feel for him is like none I've ever experienced. He's more than a lover, more than a friend, more than a boyfriend. He's family. A full circle of care. A full circle of love. A shape that leaves me running in circles trying to catch all the wishes he has to promise. My net is intact but his butterflies dart quick and before I get to them they morph into air.  He was very scattered the entire week, he lost his phone for 3 days, lost his food stamp card, constantly was forgetting his money, and though he was sober from meth and heroine he was drinking like a fish. I didn't care, I can drink like one too. I was starry eyed to see him alive and physically well.  My cat man. My con man. My rough and tumble train man. . . my junkie love. I hate to think of Dan as a junkie, I know that's something he is, but he's always been so much more to me than that. He's smart, adventurous, hopeful, resilient, strong, thoughtful, kind. Though, he runs so fast that it leaves me spinning. Admittedly I’ve always found it quite fun to try and keep up.

The entire time I was there he was trying at every angle to get me to stay in Vermont instead of going to Alaska.  there were several points where I was worried I was going to get unintentionally trapped there, but I trusted him. I trusted that despite his deep wells of incapability he had an ability to  care for me.

We slept on his couch most nights. His strong and tattooed arms wrapped tightly around me I fell asleep easily and I woke up with a desire to fall back asleep, with a desire to fall into him. The 4th day we woke he told me he had a proposition. “ would you like to jump freight for you first time while you’re here?” it felt special that the first time I would jump freight was with him. My reply was a resounding yes. We drove from Rochester to Burlington early that afternoon in hopes that I would find a good pair of boots at one of the thrift stores along the way. In Burlington we stopped to get pizza, outside of the shop was a small group of dirty travelers. Dan asked if they had mushrooms, which they did. Instead of hopping freight out we took the mushrooms. Beforehand we got into an argument in the pizza shop. I was frustrated with how much he had been talking about other women the entire day.

As we left the thrift shop there was a thin rich girl engrossed in a conversation on the phone parked next to us.

“ that women is so attractive, she seems so involved in her yuppie life. I can tell that she needs a good fuck.”

after sitting in the passenger seat for an hour listening to him go on and on about Arice, the girl who had brought him out to Vermont I was vexed at his inability to be present with me. I didn't articulate or even try to communicate this but at the pizza shop, after I was tipsy I got angry with him. Our argument ended with us sitting on a ledge of the side of the building next to the sidewalk. I was emotional  and he reassured me, reminding me how much he had changed. “imagine if this was years ago. I would of handled this differently.”

“yea, you would of fucking left as soon as the conversation held you accountable. You would have been   a quarter up the sidewalk right now. You would of left me here just like you left me in Tacoma when we were traveling and just like you left me in Arcadia.”

“Oh come on lady, I didn't do that. .. o wait, I did...”

My anger towards him for everything has always been easily replaced by a deep and irritating love. So, like many other past nights, we made up and took mushrooms. The windows were down the whole drive back, it was dark and his presence intoxicated me, it always has. About half way back I unzipped his jeans and gave him road head.  He pulled over to the side of the highway and we split the mushrooms. Washing it down with beer. Parked and relaxed he leaned in with a smile. I was elated to kiss him. To have him kiss me. I was in love with the moment. And the moments with him, I've been in love with all of them. His presence induces a rush through my veins. Pumps me full of serotonin and though iv'e never done heroine, being next to him feels like it could be just as addicting. Laughing, we crawled into the backseat and I took off my shirt. We made out in the backseat and somewhat drunkenly attempted to fuck. He was absent and uncomfortable. I was present but impatient, after a while we decided to bag the sex and drove the rest of the way back to his cabin. Upon returning the mushrooms were starting to hit. We went to the farmhouse and sat on the couch, I started giggling and he was laughing back at my cuteness. The giggles took over and I relaxed. Falling off the couch I was laughing hard. He grabbed a blanket and got down on the floor with me, pulling the blanket over our heads we were in our own universe. It was just what I wanted, to be in our universe. To be in a universe no one else could touch. To be in a universe with him where nothing could touch us. To be somewhere where heroine didn't exist, where the lack that drove a wedge between us was nonexistent, our fairy tale. We were us, us against the world under a cloud. We laughed and kissed and the patterns were starting to impede themselves through my eyes. It was good in that moment and it would of lasted longer if one of the men at the commune hadn't sternly walked in glaring at us. We quickly retreated back to his cabin where a level of hell started. Dan told me when I arrived that he had been temporarily diagnosed with bipolar and schizophrenia disorder. 3 months clean and while his body was healthier, the heavy years of drug use had sent his mind for a spin. He seemed more confident, more sure of himself. More able. but also more Wingy. more scattered. Doing mushrooms with him scared me. I have done several fistfuls of psychedelics with Dan, but with his his new-found declaration of self responsibility and discipline there was a new darkness. A wing fluttering his mind.   He began screaming at inanimate objects. He was screaming at me. He was angry when I tired to leave. The mushroom trip for me brought my mind back to the age of 7. I felt that I was out of my body in a room I was in at that age. I felt very vulnerable. There were toys around me and there was daylight shining in from the windows. Sexual  trauma was coming up for me. I was crying and asking him to come sit next to me. I needed to be touched. Touched in an nonsexual way. He viewed this as weakness and became more agitated.

He's told me before that he thought of us as twin souls. Two people endlessly vexed by the intense variations of our emotions, though my hurt shows as sadness and his hurt shows as anger. The perplexity of the sexes. The dichotomy that patriarchy imparts on us all. Our conversations often lead us back to topics like this. Our enjoyable conversations set aside, the mushroom trip brought to my attention the weight of our difference. Our different places in life, our different ways of loving and communicating. Our different paths.

Spending a week with Dan was a whirlwind for me. He talked about marrying me, he talked about other women, he talked about how I was the only girl for him, he talked about how much better he was now, he talked about how if I went to Alaska I would loose him forever. But we also had a slew of meaningful and heartfelt conversations. He told me he wanted to see me bloom, he told me that no matter what my decision was, he would support it. He apologized for the past, he wanted to spend a different future together. We spoke of what it meant to wet one's fire. Of how we were both guilty of doing so. I bled into it all. My heart ached that all the wishes blowing into the wind could be a reality that was ours. My flight from Boston back to SL took off at 8:30 pm. We spent the day walking around Rochester. The day was muggy and sunny. Everyone in the small town seemed to be out and about. We walked through the quaint country town, stopping into the bakery to get coffee. Stepping into Sandy's, the used book store and spending some time looking at all the books, taking in the smell used books have. The smell of hundreds of hands handling them. We walked up and down the small town, talking to locals that Dan knew and worked with. We walked into the white library that looked like a small steeple. Leaving our coffees at the door we went up the stairs to where there was a mini museum in a open room. The floor was a light wood and the room smelled of it. There were 7 large windows in the room, all stain glass. The room was filled with antiques from town. Dresses worn by ladies in the 1900's. Vintage pictures of parades led by horses and carriages. Women with hooked umbrellas and puffy dresses. Paintings done by locals of the small town throughout the years. It was beautiful, but Dan was enjoying it more than I. It was clear how proud he was of his home. His home, a cabin in a quaint town. His home, a place he had a job, a place he could take pride in. somewhere to call his own. We took the back road back to his cabin at the commune. It was like driving through a time warp.  There were large red barns easily spotted far into the hills, small farm houses that looked like they were built 50 years ago, yet maintained and being lived in. The country was beautiful. Vermont reminded me of the country in Washington just more woodsy, more colorful.

Though we both soaked up our last day together as much as possible, I was in a hurry to leave the property. The anxiety that had mounted and released over several occasions during my stay had me worn out. Dan drove me from the rural country side to the heart of Boston without a drivers license in a car that wasn't registered or insured. The plates were expired and didn't match. He had found them on the property. He was nervous to make the drive but I assured him I had a good feeling about it all working out without incident and it did. It was exciting and I loved him for his pure enjoyment of fucking the system. I loved him for risking another warrant just to get me to where I needed to go, and I understand how much he loved me. We listened to modest mouse, tom waits, and lost dog street band on the drive to Boston. His hand on my bare leg and my hand resting on the back of his neck. Like most everything between us, it felt natural and magical. Even still, the drive was relatively tense with us both on the look out for cops. I wanted him to park in the parking garage so we could have sex one last time but there were so many cops at the airport that our goodbye was him telling me to grab my bags fast and get out. He jumped out of the car and grabbed me for a kiss. In a flash he was back in the car and driving away. I luckily found a few empty airport alcohol bottles in the period trash can attached to the side of each woman bathroom and filled them with the remainder of my whiskey. After I made it past security I b-lined it to the nearest airport bathroom. Closing the door behind me I dropped my bag and started to shake. Fat tears fell fast out of my eyes and I had to focus all of my attention on my breath to keep from sobbing. I gave myself 5 minutes to sit in my grief for what Dan and I would never be. Then I wiped away off my tears, took a few shots of whiskey, picked up my bag and walked to my gate with my head up. I was back in salt lake from Vermont for 3 weeks before I boarded a plane to Alaska, and in that time I would find myself searching for him. In my dreams I would find myself on his property in hopes to find him, each time I would get lost in the farm house instead.In my waking I would find myself thinking I was at his cabin, opening my eyes was a disappointment. It’s been a month and as with everything, time wanes the ache

[surveyjunkie]

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends? We’re in a relationship.

What was the worst night of your life, or the night you have been scared the most? I was freaking out the other night when Josh and I got locked out of the apartment at like 1 AM. It was dark and freezing outside and neither of us had our phones or anything. I ended up calling 911 from the emergency phone outside but they said they couldn’t do anything about it, then a locksmith but they needed a call back number, and both of my parents were in Chicago so they couldn’t come get us. By the grace of god Josh was able to use a debit card from his pocket to jimmy the front entrance door open and our next door neighbor was nice enough to let us into his place and use his phone. We ended up calling my insurance company to get my car open, because I realized I had my spare apartment keys in there. God, what a night. 

Which do you prefer a kiss or hug? Kissss

Are you missing someone? Nah I just wish I was at home. <<

Do you want to say something to someone? Kind of, but I won’t. <–Yeah. <<

Remember the first time you kissed the last person you kissed? Yes 

Why did you last smile? Text from Josh

Are you afraid of falling in love? I’m in love, so no.

Do you judge other people by the bands they like? No.

Ever wanted something, got it, and then no longer wanted it? A couple of video games and clothes. I make the mistake of buying things from the thrift store simply because they’re cheap and then end up donating them right back. 

Do you tell people what they want to hear? I’m guilty of that. 

Do you wake up easily in the morning, or do you like to sleep in? I don’t wake up easily at all. My alarm is set for 7:30 and I almost always snooze it until 8:05 then rush to work. I am by no means a morning person. 

Have you been to an Emergency Room in the past three months? No

Do you like music? Can’t live without it. 

Where do you wish you could hop on a plane and vacation to right now? Florida!

How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? No idea, tons of times.

Are you a shy person or outgoing? Shy.

Would you go to California? In a heart beat. 

What’s something you really want right now? To go home.

Anything you are looking forward to? Going home? Ha. <<

How is your heart? Fragile but good

The last person you held hands with go to your school? No.

Let’s test your memory, what were you wearing during your last kiss? The same thing I am now, a blue tank top, grey cardigan, black pants, black boots, plus a yellow scarf and coat. 

Did anything bad happen to you in August? This. Question. Is. On. Every. Survey. 

Have you given somebody more second chances than you can count? Yes

Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual? No.

Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? Again, this is on every survey

Would you get a lip piercing? No

Nose piercing? Yes

Did you sleep alone last night? Nope!

Does it bother you when people try to make you jealous? Actually I just think it’s kinda funny, because it’s a rather pitiful thing to do. <<

The last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in front of them? A few.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Can’t. I actually have to be here earlier tomorrow. 

Is tomorrow going to be a good day? Maybe. 

Someone knocks on your window at 2 am? They’re probably locked out like Josh and I were the other night, lolol.

Is there someone that knows how to make you smile? Yes

If you could seek revenge on someone would you? There’s no one I need to seek revenge on. 

What are you currently waiting for? 3:15 PM 

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you like? No.

Is anything bothering you right now? I’m a little peeved about this dinner being scheduled at 4 because it means I have to make up hours tomorrow and Friday, but at the same time I’m happy to be leaving early because I don’t have anything to do today. 

Do you even KNOW how to do the laundry? Yes...

Would you date an 18 year old at the age you are now? Nooo.

Have any memories that you like to forget? There are lots.

What do you bite more, your tongue, lip, or cheek? Cheek, I can’t count the amount of times I’ve done that while chewing food. It sucks.

Do you love anyone at all? Yes.

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? Josh bo bosh

Would you ever change for anyone? Only to better myself

Do you think your ex has moved on and is happier with another person? I know he has a new girlfriend, but I have no idea if he’s happy. And honestly I don’t care if he is or isn’t, I’m just glad he’s out of my hair. 

Is “because i was drunk” a good enough excuse for you? Sometimes, depends on what I did?

Where is the most romantic place to kiss someone, in your opinion? In the rain

Who did you last lay in bed with? Josh

When you were fourteen, what was your favorite song? LOLLL. I think “Deceptacon” by Le Tigre. 

Do you repeat yourself often and not realize it? If I didn’t realize it, how would I know?

What are things you couldn’t live without? Music, beer, food, dogs. 

Would you rather be blind or deaf? Fuuuuuuck

What three places in the world do you want to travel to? Peru, Italy, Ireland.  

Do you have feelings for anyone? Yeah.

What’s the last show you watched? Fargo, the 2nd season. We finished the 1st season last night and ohhh maaaah gawd. 

Have you ever experienced being in love? Yes.

How long ago did you hug someone? At first I thought this said “thug” someone and I was like huh? Haha but this morning. 

Have you ever run over an animal? I hope not :/

Have you ever watched a movie in another language? Yes.

Have you ever experienced an airport hug? (Run and jump into their arms) When I was a kid. 

When are you most likely to say something you don’t mean? When I’m joking around with friends. <<

Do you want an ex back? Noooo.

Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? God no. 

What color are your nails? Nail-colored. 

Have you ever found yourself worrying about commitment? Only when it comes to jobs and school, not relationships.

Who was the last girl you had a conversation with? Co-worker

Have you ever slept a whole day away? Yes.

Have you ever been called heartless? No, but I’ve been called cold. Which is odd to me, but okay. 

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? Yes

When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’? Yeah.

If you could spend 1 hour, 20 years in the future, would you? Yeah, I’d like to see how things turn out. And, I could win the lottery. 

Are you dating the last person you talked to? Yes

#survey