This Southern Faggot's Blog


Where would we be now?
April 20, 2016, 9:32 pm
Filed under: my head hurts., People to remember, Uncategorized

I’ve been thinking a lot about L today.

When she died, we were both just kids. We were both 20 and still had so much growing up to do.

I’m spending time thinking about that and thinking about how mad I am that she wasn’t allowed to ever grow up. I simply can not fathom what an adult L would be like. She was such an amazing ball of energy, I want to know how she would have harnessed that energy.

I’ll never know. No one will ever now and that is fucking infuriating.

Advertisements


Time flies

This thing is 7 years old now.

I’m laying in bed reading a few old posts and I can’t even imagine where I was 7 years ago (physically, mentally) and it’s really comforting to know that at any point I can look back here and figure that out.

A lot of things have changed in the past 7 years.

I made a new friend and because of that person, my friend group grew exponentially. I still have all those new friends in my life and I’m really grateful for that. Some aren’t as present as I would like and I’d like to change that. But, I genuinely love those people and they constantly remind me how lucky I am.

One of my good friends died way, way too young and I was able to take all of that hurt and anger and turn it into a project that has already become much larger than I could have ever imagined. This project is now *my job* and I am able to focus all of my energy there. I sometimes worry that because it is now my job, I’ll begin to view it as ‘just a job’, but that has not happened yet. I work everyday to make sure that doesn’t happen.

I discovered the magical world of middle TN, specifically IDA. I don’t really have much more to say about that, but IDA will always hold a special place in my heart.

I bought a house. I figured, if I plan on staying here forever, might as well plant some (literal and figurative) roots, right?

I, for the first time in my life, began trying to dissect my feelings. We’ll just say that’s a work in progress.

I began processing my ideas of my own gender identity and came to a place that I feel really good about. On a related note, I changed my name.

I’ve had sex with a small handful of people. I ended up coming to the conclusion that I’m not interested in hookups with people I don’t really know that well. Not for some slut-shaming reason, but because having sex with people just takes so much energy. I want to make sure I’m investing that energy wisely. On a related note, I’ve only had sex with one person (multiple times, but one person) in the past 3 or so years. I think I’m okay with that.

Two dogs entered my life and they have become my very best friends.

I’m sure other noteworthy things happened, but these are the things that come to mind first. Here’s to another 7 years, hopefully.



Another post about fucking walls
April 17, 2016, 6:20 pm
Filed under: Mother, Thinking Thinking | Tags:

I’ve made no progress in figuring out how to let down my walls, so that I can let people in.

Truth be told, I haven’t really worked on it that much.

I was talking with a now long-distance good friend about this and I thought of something that had never come to mind before. Maybe the metaphor breaks down at this point, but would it be possible that someone could just go over the walls? In my mind that’s a somewhat shitty and passive (on my end) thing to want, but maybe that’s just where I am.

How could I ask that of someone? In my mind the conversation would look something like this “Hey, sometimes I’ll feel distant, but I really just need you to help me push through that and force me to explain to you what I am feeling right now.”

Who the fuck would sign up for that?



Love (just like blood) will always stain
April 17, 2016, 6:13 pm
Filed under: Southern life, This town | Tags: ,

Yesterday I had coffee with a small group of Lesbian elders and it gave me so, so much energy. One of them is the author of the book who entirely changed the way I look at oppression and intersectionality. This is the second time I have met her. The first time we couldn’t talk because I ended up breaking down and crying, it was too much. I was better this time.

We talked about the LGBT history of this town a bit, which I am ALWAYS ready to adsorb. We also talked quite a bit about this project I’m working on and they were very interested and had many kind words to say. I regularly get compliments on this project, but coming from this group of women, who have spent the last 30 years doing organizing work in this community… that just meant the world to me.

One of my friends let me borrow two LGBT (well, gay and lesbian) literary magazines from this town in the early 90’s and reading them has been incredibly fulfilling. I’m reading works from names I recognize, which isn’t surprising. I’m reading works from names I don’t recognize, which makes me sad. I’m reading works from people I’ve known, who are no longer with us. I’m reading works from people I feel like I know, but died before I ever met them. I’m reading these works from people in my own community who, in the past, did amazing work here locally and even I’m unaware of many of the things they did for me. I say ‘even I’m’, because I’d consider myself someone who is obsessed with this town’s LGBT history… yet, I still know so little. In the grand scheme of things, I really know nothing. I don’t know my own history and I know that many (if not most) of my peers know even less than I. I hate thinking about this.

I’m reading all of this and it’s a reminder that no matter what good we do in this world, no matter what changes we make happen, or help happen… we will end up being forgotten. All of us, just forgotten, like we never existed. Maybe someone will name something after us, or maybe our name will appear in obscure text. But, other than that, our memory will slowly disappear from our everyday conscious.

I’ve spent today thinking about this and it’s really upsetting. Is this just human nature? How could it be human nature to forget our past? To forget our histories? Is this a coping mechanism? Is this to keep us from thinking so much about the past, we don’t think about our present, or future?

Maybe, but I’m not okay with that. I want to understand what happened in this community before my time. I want to know all of these people. I want to know all of their stories. I know this isn’t possible. We’ve done such a poor job of documenting the local LGBT history, I really don’t have many options. I hate thinking about this.

I know I have a tendency to obsess over and romanticize the past. I find myself doing it all the time. I regularly find myself thinking that I was born in the wrong era. This is dangerous because in doing this, I end up thinking about all of the amazing people that existed in this community, who I will never know… but I need to remember that many amazing people exist today and I can’t forget about them. I can’t lock myself away thinking about the past, while forgetting about the present. Somewhere is a middle and I need to find it.

Maybe someday.