Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire

A Little Red

This picture was supposed to look more happy than how it turned out.

Gonna break out of this rut
Trade a drop of blood for a little cut
Gonna break out of this little world of blue.

Gonna get me what I like
A big cup of tears, a handful of lies so I
Come crawling on my knees again to you.

Baby no- you don’t need to change
You were born to play and life’s a game
You can be yourself & only us will know.

Hush baby, close your eyes
You were born to kill, I was born to sacrifice-
Wanna cut a little red & watch it flow?

Sometimes though it hurts so red
It’s like a knife that pins me down to the bed so I
Close my eyes to find another place and time.

Suddenly then you grow so cold
All the blood recedes into a world of stone and I
Wonder what I did again to make you fly.

Baby no- you don’t need to change
When men say love they mean a different thing and
They can only find their strength in being alone.

They gotta kill, just to stay alive
And the voice they hear tells them to survive and so they
Wanna cut a little red and watch it flow.

But in this world, love’s a flame; my
Hands are cold I need something so
Can you tell me that you only just love me alone?

Cause the voice I hear tells me to survive
I give you my life, to keep me alive
And now I wanna cut a little bit of red to watch it glow.


(Please note- this song is not to be confused with Little Red.)

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Politics Writings

My Little Life in Politics

Hi. I have been blocked from facebook again. For inciting violence. A person asked what I would do if a man hit me & I said I would try to kick him in the balls then duck and scream. Or something like that.

So they suspended me for one month followed by a month of shadow banning. They said their decision can’t be contested because Covid- 19. Of course. I am going to have to find a way to break free of this abusive platform.

They SAY I can disagree. But when I try they say I can’t. Cause Covid.
Also, fwiw, I would never kick a man in the nuts in real life. It would be dangerous.


This is extra annoying because I have an election in one month and was using my account to connect with hundreds of voters. How can this be legal now that social media is the new platform through which humans speak?

In other news… door knocking is turning out to be the funnest thing ever. The majority of people open their doors and each one is cuter than the last. To say hi and hand each cutie a magnet- it is a great feeling. Like pollinating flowers. Sometimes you forget how refreshing the airy side of life can be.

And since I’ve realized 95% of voters don’t care about my positions, I simplified the door hanger accordingly. I don’t want to forcibly insert my opinions where they aren’t wanted. Instead, they are tucked away on a webpage where people can access them if they wish. If you visit this page and have any questions or unfulfilled needs, let me know.


I chose a picture where I am a fading dot because I can’t yet bear to be the person knocking on doors to hand people a giant photo of my own face. It’s too much. I need things to feel right or I can’t do them.

In high school, for example, I couldn’t understand chemistry. It was a bunch of squiggles. The chemical smells, rough textures, dry air, fluorescent lighting, cinder block walls, impersonal communication style. No. But as an adult learning chemistry was fun because I could control the aesthetics. I had my pink calculator, a notebook with puppies in a flower basket, a smoothly laminated periodic table (I hate touching all dry and scratchy things besides whiskers), and a lemon candle- representing crisp intelligence. Ahhhh… paradise. Suddenly I could easily compute things that had been nonsensical before.

I am approaching politics the same way. It is far outside my wheelhouse but James really wanted me to and I do what he says cause I be dumb like that. But by applying my own aesthetics the task becomes enjoyable. I have my flower magnets, my floral bag, the cuteness of the people, the beauty of the sky and the newness of the neighborhoods. I’m also inspired by the fact that (astrologically) I am scheduled for a fall from grace in around 2.5 years and politics could be a great way to accomplish this. Maybe I’ll pull a mini Weiner and go down with a perverted sex scandal. Then retreat, tail between my legs, to write songs in a little pink house by the ocean.

And of course I feel inspired by the chance to take a stand for the things I care about. But what are those things? The 50,000 questionnaires I have received from various interest groups have made me realize that politics does not really boil down to specific positions or even principles.

It is more like making a soup. If it’s burning, you turn down the heat. When it gets too thick you add water. It is hard to take an absolute stand on whether you or for or against adding more black pepper because it is so context specific. The goal is to have a society which maximizes personal freedom, while also having the law, order, and security on which functional freedom depends.

While I agree with the principles behind legalizing marijuana for example, I also can’t help but notice that it is a drug famous for increasing many of the qualities already threatening to topple our society. Passivity. Lack of drive. Fruity thinking. Could we legalize cocaine instead and save the pot discussion for 2025? Maybe people will have regained some vigor by then and it will be more clear how marijuana fits into the scheme of things.

When it comes down to it, I’m not a woman of principles. I’m a Black 8.

“I’ll serve you in the house like I serve my husband in the house.”

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Minerals, Mountains, Crystals, Ice, and White Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

The Station

To breath somehow
When the wave come falling down

To breath, to see
All the things I never wanted to be

Crystals in my eyes I rub them
Oh my god somehow
I will follow when you lead me down.

But there’s a man out by the station
Like a shadow in my mind
And I reach for him but the voices tell me
This is not my time

To belong.
Wish there was someone I could love.

To hear, to know
To close your eyes and feel the flow

Of the truth, of the lies
To know the real from the disguise

Clouds inside my head I touch them
Oh my god somehow
I will follow where you lead me now.

But there’s a man our by the station
Like a feeling in my brain
I would reach for him but the voices said
It would only lead to pain

And to fall.
Wish there was someone I could love.

To know the way to learn the truth
To feel, to see and never more to be decieved.

But there’s a man out by the station
Like a cube inside my mind
If we play then odds then we can be certain
He will not be kind

Soldier on.
Wish there was someone I could love.

Categories
men My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

I am a Good Wife

Conventional wisdom always encourages people to be vulnerable, open & honest. But I struggle with the reverse- the feeling that it isn’t okay to withhold & keep thoughts to myself.

Especially in marriage. James wants me to tell him everything & says it is damaging if I don’t. Which is great in theory, since I have the desire to share all my thoughts & feelings. But in reality it doesn’t work out so well. Frequently he will get angry about my thoughts or tell me why they are incorrect & then I am forced to go through an endless wrangling process trying to defend them. The process is confusing & doesn’t end until I have either accepted his replacement thoughts or am too tangled up to function anymore.

Now to someone else this might be no problem. They would just share what they wanted to share and keep the rest to themselves. But I have this compulsive feeling that my perceptions must be validated by another person before I can trust them. I can hardly be certain the sky is blue without first asking someone. And I also have this compulsive feeling that I must obey James. I can’t withhold information unless he gives me permission to do so, regardless of how much confusion & discomfort sharing may cause. Basically I don’t trust my own mind & have no will of my own.

I guess this traces back to when I was a teenager & my first husband was my spiritual guide & I needed to tell him absolutely everything so he could remove my ego, realign my thinking & enable me to achieve enlightenment. The process involved lots of screaming & public humiliation, including sexual, since these are the most tried & true methods of ego removal. Since then, I have never been able to regain that feeling of trusting my own mind and feeling that I am my own master. I don’t even know how to explain it to people who take having their own mind and will for granted.

I am trying very hard to put these boundaries back in place but it is a struggle. I don’t feel I have the right to make choices for myself without asking someone else’s permission and am scared of what will happen if I do.

My husband likes control. I don’t mean this as a bad thing and maybe it is even a quality I admire. But one rule of our relationship is that he is allowed to make decisions while I am not. He can decide what to do with money- and spend enormous sums- without consulting me. I cannot access money without consulting him and telling him what I wish to buy. The flip side is that he is much more financially generous with me than he is with himself. Generally he will get me whatever I want- even if it is frivolous or wasteful- while being stingy with himself. And this same pattern applies to all aspects of our relationships. If I want something & it is within his power to give it to me, he probably will. But I am not allowed to make decisions without consulting him, whereas he is allowed to make decisions without consulting me.

I am supposed to trust him. But he isn’t supposed to trust me. I am deemed incapable of making any significant decisions even if they impact no one but myself. As an example, I want to see a shrink & there is one nearby I can see for free. Not because I am looking for guidance, I just want the experience of talking to a human without feeling it is such a struggle to get my thoughts out and have them heard and accepted. I just want to experience something new- the feeling of noncombative communication.

But James is against this. So what are my choices? Try to change his mind? Trying to convince James of anything is impossible. The certain outcome is that I will end up adopting his perspectives because anything else becomes too unpleasant. I could go behind his back, but that would violate my compulsive need to be transparent with him. So the only real option is to tell myself it isn’t a good idea anyway.

The official justification for obeying him is that he is more grounded than me and makes better choices. (I should add here that I am sometimes allowed to make choices- it is just that he decides which choices I am or am not allowed to make.) But the truth is I am just scared of what will happen if I don’t obey him. I am afraid he will find a way of punishing me or else stop loving me which is a punishment itself. Any time I attempt to assert my will it turns into a horrible fight from which it can take me a long time to recover.

I feel like everyone reading this will think either A) Holy shit you are a dumbass or B) Wow, what a horrible wife writing something which could cast her husband in a bad light.

And I have no defense against being a dumbass. I am a fucking dumbass and I live this every day. But I am not a bad wife.

The other day I told James I was suffering from having no one to talk to, that I couldn’t be real with anyone or even on my blog. He said, “Why not? You can write whatever you want.” I said, ” Well I’m worried that you won’t like it.” He said “Just try it and find out- it will be fine. You’ll see. Trust me.”

So I am trying it. And trusting him. Just like he told me to do. I am a good wife.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men Writings

Sex Energy- Positive, Negative & Neutral

All levels of the human mind deal with three types of energy. Positive, negative & neutral.

Positive energy connects us to the future. It is our desires & values. What we want to have & experience. It moves us forward.

Negative energy connects us to the past. It enables us to release things & gives us the depth and wisdom that come from processing experiences.

Neutral energy connects us to the present and our environment.

At the verbal level, for example, affirmations would be an example of positive energy. Talking to a counselor about our problems would be negative energy- we are using words to gain release & insight. Asking someone to pass the salt would be neutral.

And this applies on the sexual level too. Sexual impulses can be positive- this person turns me on because she is my dream girl and I want to marry her. Or they can be negative- this person turns me on because her nose looks like my Aunt Sally’s who molested me as a kid and I still feel ashamed about that. Or- I just lost my job and now I have shameful feelings. I want to release these feelings through my dick so what is something bad I can do that will give me an orgasm?

However, on the surface, these two impulses can look the same because we typically don’t bother to analyze our sexual feelings. We feel a pulse in our dick and think- that must be hot, I must want to fuck that. Why else would I feel this pulse? But a whole world of meaning is there, for those who care to look.

Negative sexuality is similar to music and dreams. It is not a literal reflection of what we want. Instead it is subconscious urges, fears, pains and conflicts bubbling to the surface in a symbolic language. For men especially, it may be one of the main avenues through which their subconscious speaks to them which is why they can get addicted to things like porn which offer so many scenarios designed to tap into different pockets of feeling.

But we are trained to be meatheads when it comes to sex and not analyze the things. We regurgitate simplistic theories from evolutionary psychology which gay men have proven to be false. Our sexual circuits are not just for reproduction- they perform a wide variety of functions just as our mouth does. Or even our speech. To claim that all sexual urges are rooted in a desire to have children would be like saying that all functions of speech relate to the need to warn others of wild animals.

And it causes a lot of consternation, especially for wives and girlfriends, when all sexual impulses are described as caveman urges to mate with someone else. Or when sexual urges are automatically interpreted as attraction. I.e. finding someone beautiful, desirable. In reality, men are well known for losing interest in someone after having sex. Why? Did the person cease to be beautiful and attractive? No, it was just never about that in the first place. Sometimes sex is about trying to get at something within the self and -unfortunately- the other person is little more than an available tissue. Or perhaps a symbolic one who taps an inner conflict (kink).

I grew up in a culture where people were supposed to be happy. Other emotions were viewed in a negative light. There was no emotional release function and this made it difficult to be happy except in a strained and 2 dimensional way. It is this release function, this negative energy, that renews us, bringing depth and purity to our experience. Just as a person can feel rejuvenated by crying. Sometimes the dick needs to cry too.

So what impact does it have on sexual relationships if every sexual thought and feeling must be a feeling of positive love and desire for one’s mate? Does this create a deep and passionate bond over time or would it begin to feel flat and repressive? Time is a big factor, because the more time passes the more negative energies accumulate if not washed away. You can go for a week without a shower, but eventually it catches up with you. People rarely need marriage counselor on their honeymoon, but 20 years later they might. Especially if they are basing their relationship on positive energy without an equivalent ability to embrace negative energy. It is the negative energy that rejuvnates and when we cling to positive charges and resist negative ones either decay or a sudden rupture is certain. The good news is that exploring the negative is every bit as enjoyable as moving towards the positive. This is where life gains its deep and watery energies.

And of course there are neutral sexual energies. These feed you information about your current surroundings & circumstances. Threats and opportunities. A sudden attraction to a firewoman could be your dick trying to tell you your house is on fire. A sexual feeling towards a plump person could mean you need to eat. Rage towards your boss might be chanelled as arousal towards his female equivalent. The possibilities are endless.

In addition, sexual feelings can simply be red beams we are intercepting from others. Sometimes I feel a red beam & turn around me to see a scantily clad female who is looking for sexual attention. If I were a man, I might automatically assume I was attracted to her, when in fact my dick was just picking up her availability signal. Dangers in the environment can also be felt through the dick. The dick is basically an antennae picking up root level information. If sexual thoughts are too tightly controlled a lot of data drops out. But also, if we take the meathead approach of assuming every quiver in our dick represents an urge to sire a child- even if we don’t act on it- this can lead to trouble, hurt and confusion.

So I just wish we could look a little deeper when it comes to sexual feelings. If men are looking at porn, for example, WHY are they looking? Is it really because they think that close up shot of a dick sliding into a butthole is so pretty and men are visual creatures? Is it really because they have the urge to spread their seed through ejaculating into their hand to ensure humanity’s survival? Or is it possible they are attempting- perhaps clumsily- an introspective, healing activity? Trying to release some speck of gravel from their shoe. Flying to a world where females are amazed by their every move and they don’t have to feel like a loser. Releasing feelings of hatred, disgust or aggression that have no place in polite society.

Sexual urges and the meanings behind them are really an entire universe to be explored. These things are only shameful & threatening when they aren’t examined. In reality, they are a symbolic doorway into the deepest parts of our mind where the largest transformations can occur.

Categories
Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies Videos

Blue Sky (Video)

Feel life upon you like a wave
The men will come but they won’t stay
No one knows where they’re going.

So much like you- you once were here
Step into blue then disappear
I don’t know why.

Try not to move, try not to cry
Hold onto glass but never break it.

The thing is this was never real
You confuse life with what you feel
I don’t know why.

You sigh it’s just the world you know
The men will come the men will go
No one knows why.

But pain remains that can’t be hid
The hand that cut you as a kid
Blue blue sky.

Your heart it stretches out like glue
Existing so outside of you
No one knows why.

You thought you had a friend- you don’t
You thought he’d help you but he won’t
Blue blue sky.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

What is a dick?

Please forgive me if I make no sense. Right now the whole universe is bombarding my mercury- aka brain- and it has sped thought processes to where I can hardly function. Zillions of thoughts colliding into each other & all of them breaking into fragments. This will last a couple more years.

I can still write songs in this state, but songs come out like eggs. You have to let the emotional energy congeal again before laying the next one. In the meantime, there is still too much I need to express. Plus I am so alone & this blog is my closest friend.

So I am barfing out thoughtlets. To release them from my mind.

One strange thing about my mind is how it seems to have different pieces which live side by side, unknown to one another. I would notice this at school when I would get perfect scores on tests which- as far as I knew- I knew nothing about. Subjects like advanced math & science where you can’t fake it. Also, everything related to sex.

As a teen the last thing in the world I wanted was to be associated with sex or even being female. This could partially explain why I changed my name to Julian.

Buying female products was my worst nightmare. I would go to the store in disguise & wait til there were no people around. Later the products would be stored in a box hidden behind a dresser in a closet. I invented multiple codes for writing in my journal so that I could write in double code (a code within a code). But this wasn’t enough, so when they were finished my beautiful journals would have to be ripped to pieces and then burned. What was I writing about? Boys. Liking them was the most secretive & humiliating thing imaginable.


At the same time, however, I was- unknown to myself- constantly broadcasting sexual things in an inappropriate way. It was only many years later that the constant explicit nature of my actions became clear to me.

There was the way I would eat bananas in front of younger teenage boys. They would always ask me to eat them over and over again which I was happy to do since I brought 2 bananas with me to school every day. There was the time I plastered the school with a poem about 2 soft squishy balls which a man liked to play with. I really thought it was a poem about favorite toys and was bewildered by how people would crack up. There was my final art project at university which I thought was a tree, but in retrospect was a realistic picture of a dick sliding through a hole. There were the poems I wrote about people coming all over things and the look on the teachers faces when they read them. The times I would jump up on tables and start doing pelvic thrusts at family get togethers. Passing people notes that said “Do you want to make love?” Painting pictures of soldiers have sex with their dads and writing songs which (in retrospect) were obviously about people getting raped but at the time I thought they were songs about colors.

In my mind, almost everything was a color or a feeling. The literal meanings of things did not compute. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anyone to believe this because it doesn’t even make sense to me. How can someone know something and not know something at the same time?


I don’t know.

The End.

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire Videos

Bullets (Video)

I’ve been trying for a while to post something on here & written about 50 blog posts which I didn’t publish due to a desire for invisibility. I toggle between urges to be visible & invisible based on which seems the safest.

On the one hand, people knowing you exist makes you safe. It increases the odds that someone would notice if you went missing. Perhaps in extreme cases, someone would come to your aid. On the other hand, the more people know you exist the more enemies you have. And the more information they have about you, the more nooks & crannies for landing their little arrows. The wider you stretch out your personality, the larger the target becomes.

Still though, I consider it part of my destiny to try and trust in the soft mush of faceless unseen people & to believe that something good might emerge from that mush one day.

***

He points the gun at me
I say please don’t shoot
He says, ‘What makes you think I would do that to you?
After all that I’ve done that’s the way that you see me?
Then walk out that door cause you might as well leave me.’

Oh no…. my brain…..something cracking inside
Please I need to find darkness some place I can hide
Just climb under the bed, just lie there very still
I wish someone would find me but they never will.

Walking around it’s a daze in my mind now
The flowers are blooming, the sun is behind now
But inside it’s raining I can’t make it stop
And I bite on my tongue cause I need not to talk.

Oh no…. my head… something breaking inside
Now I need to find shelter some place I can hide
But behind every door there’s a man with a new gun
There’s no where to go if I had the strength to run.

Clouds in the sky I don’t think I can join you
So fluffy and free all the bullet pass through you
You’ve nothing to fear and you rain when you want to
I wish you saw me I need someone to talk to.

Oh no… my heart… something breaking inside
Can you hold it together until we can hide?
Just climb under the bed just lie there very still
I wish someone would find us but they never will.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men My Life Story Writings

Falling in Love with Spiritual

I am not sure if this post is sexual and hence inappropriate or not sexual at all. It isn’t sexual to me. If it is sexual to you, then apologies. But there are things I am feeling compelled to talk. They are like giant bubbles rising up from my stomach and forcing their way out of my mouth. I may need to write a number of somewhat personal blog posts to get to the bottom of why I can’t stop talking about dicks. I don’t know where to begin, so I will just vomit up one little bubble about my life.

This is the story of how I fell in love with husband #1. Some of this has been shared before. So apologies for any repetition.

We will refer to this husband as Spiritual, because that was his name for part of the time I knew him. He goes by a different name now & this post is not intended to impact his reputation.

Spiritual was driving me to Michigan to attend a spiritual retreat. Spiritual was my spiritual guide, not my boyfriend. The eastern philosophies I was absorbing had taught me that obedience to a guru was the surest way to achieve enlightenment. God had contacted Spiritual and told him to be my guru. This seemed like a miracle, an answered prayer, since I had been praying for somebody to guide me.

Spiritual had made it clear that attending this retreat would be the key to getting rid of the ego. I had no idea what to expect. Getting in the car with a odd smelling male and going on an unknown retreat was not my cup of tea, but I had already accepted that the process of becoming enlightened was gonna suck. I was majoring in Tibetan buddhism & most of the stories of enlightenment involved eating shit, murdering people & doing all sorts of distasteful things. Crazy wisdom, they called it. But it was just the ego that found these things distasteful. Once you reached enlightenment, it was all worth it.

So we were speeding 80 mph down the highway in his van, when suddenly Spiritual said “There’s something we need to talk about…. THIS” and firmly grabbed my crotch, leaving his hand there. I froze. I tried to remember that it was just molecules touching molecules. It had no meaning. This is something I would tell myself when things were gross.

Then he pulled the car over to a rest stop. He said to get out of the car and stood there and said I needed to kiss him. I couldn’t do it. It’s like when you are trying to get yourself to eat a slug and you can’t. We stood there for the longest time. Finally he started screaming at me and I pecked him on the lips. We got back in the van.

We drove to his parents house. This was a shock to me, since I thought we were attending a spiritual retreat center. He introduced me as his girlfriend. I was confused. I thought he was my spiritual leader. I didn’t say anything. Then he went up to his parents room and lay on the floor naked. He said I needed to touch his whole body admiringly because he hadn’t been appreciated enough in his life. I did it.

Next, he said we needed to get married. Because he was Catholic and I had touched his naked body. (Catholicism had not come up before.) This idea repulsed me. I was still a teen and had no desire to be married, especially to him. So I agreed and started wearing his mother’s engagement ring.

As soon as we were engaged things changed instantaneously. He started yelling at me constantly. Making humiliating scenes every time we were out in public. He had yelled at me before (he called it giving me an ‘ego bat’), but now it was unrelenting. It never stopped. But still I fell in love with him. A cascade of molecules caused me to feel high when I touched his hand. I became very attached to him. Inseparable. It got to where I literally could not think a single thought without running it through him to see if it was true or false.

Technically him grabbing my crotch on the way to the spiritual retreat was not the first time we’d had physical contact.

After he became my spiritual guide, Spiritual told me that God had presented him with two choices. I must choose one or the other to stay on the path of enlightenment. Either ask my best male friend to “go down on me” or if I wouldn’t do that then Spiritual would need to perform the procedure.

This was far outside of my experiences and the thought of having to ask a male friend to do it would have been worse than eating a live heart. I would rather have killed myself. So I agreed that he would do it. On the appointed date he took me to a hotel room. I will spare you the details. But don’t worry- this is not an erotic story and it was not an erotic experience. I just lay there with most of my clothes on. I had had surgery on that part of my body as a kid and also many medical procedures. They hurt, but afterwards I got oatmeal cookies. This wasn’t too different. He stuck various things in me. I don’t remember what they all were. One was a blow pop. When I was a kid I would always get to choose a lollipop before the most painful procedures making them bittersweet.

He said he “came twice.” This didn’t have a precise meaning to me. He said it might be useful to touch other body parts. I said okay. That didn’t mean anything to me. I was just a bunch of molecules lying on a table on their way to achieving enlightenment. Afterwards I felt kind of relieved like how you feel when you are leaving the dentist office and are patting yourself on the back for being responsible. Poor Julien. What a doofus.

And not even that experience was unprecedented. It is just that I had this way of completely tuning out anything remotely sexual to the extent that it didn’t exist in my mind. I have told people before that I’ve never been hit on once in my life, but maybe it only seemed that way because my mind just wouldn’t process the sexual implications of any encounter regardless of how blatant they were.

Once for example, this guy kept putting my hand on his dick and I kept moving it off his dick. This didn’t register as sexual to me (despite being an adult), it just seemed like nonsensical behavior, as though someone was trying to touch my elbow with his nose. I didn’t want to touch the gross slimy slug but I didn’t see the male as sexually motivated.

So anyway, before I became his girlfriend or even his disciple, Spiritual insisted I hug him every time I saw him (which was not desired since he reeked of b.o.) and then he would sing this song, “You always give me a boner.” Then he would explain how he got a boner each time he hugged me. Obviously this should have been a warning sign as to what would happen if you got in a van with this guy. But I had changed a lot of diapers as a kid and babies sometimes had boners. So I just saw it in that light, not a sexual one.

And he would sometimes ask if I could remove undergarments so he could study their fabric due to his interest in fabrics. Luckily, I didn’t do that. If he had said it was necessary for spiritual reasons, I would have, but I didn’t want to do something icky just to increase his knowledge of textiles. He would also say weird things about how my br–sts seemed to be attached to my chest. I just filed this under molecules talking about molecules. Things that had no rhyme or reason. So many things in life, so many things people did, just seemed nonsensical to me. They had no explanation. Molecules talking about molecules.

And it worked both ways- I would frequently say and even act out sexually explicit things, like writing songs about rape that (in my mind) were songs about colors or turning in a giant picture of a dick for my final art project which in my mind was a picture of a tree. But this is a subject for another post.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Uncategorized Writings

Wife Head

It has been impossible to write on this blog recently, because I have fallen into wife consciousness.

Around a year ago, probably due to James’s inaccessibility, I started connecting my emotions to the faceless glob of possibility known as “The Public.” I enjoyed connecting with these invisible people on an emotional level and somehow felt they were my friends.

But then, around a month ago, a change of heart caused me to seek emotional fulfillment through James instead. This only led to my disappearance as an individual. After all, James is absorbed in technical things 99% of the time. Trying to connect with him by discussing feelings & relationship issues is a recipe for disaster (although he is great at helping me solve problems that don’t involve him).

Females connect by sharing negative feelings & problems. Men interpret this as criticism or a demand to fix something. So you open yourself up to receive empathy but instead get anger and defensiveness. Now you feel more needy and alone than before which makes you try still harder to connect. Before long it turns into a degenerative cycle with all your energy going into a circuit that returns pain.

Whereas with The Public, I can be more real. I can share feelings and always receive soft love in return- even if only in my imagination. The public is the moon- gooey, silver, magical, reflecting you back to yourself until you feel you exist.

But still- the thing about me is I am REALLY into being a wife. It is an unhealthy obsession. I don’t know how to give up on having a perfect ultimate connection and settle for something brisk, sporty and casual. But when you are too idealistic, it causes things to crash.

Plus, I just feel guilty about investing myself emotionally in any other direction. I feel guilty seeking fulfillment through writing a blog post or a song. It feels like I am giving up on love.

And wife consciousness makes it hard to express yourself anyway. While I am ok with making myself look bad- I sort of expect it- the idea of reflecting negatively on James feels like committing triple homicide.

And realistically there is little you can say beyond “Everything is Wonderful! I am so happy!” that doesn’t potentially cloud your husband’s reputation. If you say “Nice dicks, boys!” that could reflect badly on him. If you say “I hate my life- I am so miserable.” that could reflect badly on him. If you say “I love idiots!” that could reflect badly on him.

So I really don’t know what to do. As an artist, I have to straddle the crack between Stepford Julien & being real. Of course, James says he doesn’t want me to make him look good- he doesn’t care about that- but this is hard for me to believe. Making men look good is the whole reason society is fake, isn’t it?

If it was just women, we would be talking about our insecurities & failures all the time, but men- being soldiers- don’t do that. And so women- caring about men- become fake as a way of protecting them. That is why there are only Stepford *wives* & no Stepford singles.

If I was single, I could be transparent, but since I am married I must be opaque, like men are. I WANT to be opaque and fake to make James look good. As an expression of love. But I also need the moon juice that comes from transparency.

Even just writing this could make James look bad.

There is no way out.

I am doomed.

Ps. I hope I am making sense & there aren’t too manny spelling errors. My brain is pretty tired, due to the new dog, Patton, waking me up in the morning, while James’s schedule keeps me up into the wee hours of the night.

The new dog- Patton. I sort of wish I had named him Hazel because it sounds more vicious. But you shouldn’t switch beds midstream. He is a good dog but very demanding.