2017.02.21 – Transformation

Tonight I had a close friend express how they were scared about recent events. When I went to go reflect on it – this is what came out…

Blood pumps rapidly – faster and faster.
Eyes wide open – focused and dilated.
Paralyzed by the crawler – no better on the radio.

The uncertainty surrounds us, scares us.
Misinformation on the screen generating the doubt.
The hatred bubbling on the surface.

This is how they control.
This is how they squash.
This is their plan.

We must resist.
We must prepare.
We must fight.
We must transform.

I will not be scared – I will transform this fear into art.
I will not be intimidated – I will burn the manipulation and grow stronger.
I will not be hypnotized – I will transform this rigor mortis into life.

Passages that echo

Keeping a written journal has been one of the best outlets for my mind since I started it. The act of writing down my deep thoughts onto paper via a fountain pen has really allowed me to reflect on events in my life and the world. Many of them never make it up to social media or my site, and that is how it should be. But sometimes, there is something I write that just hits it home.

Days ago I wrote down the following lines into my Journal. Each day, it echoed in my head. Little did I know just writing these words would refocus my outlook for 2017:

I am vulnerable; I have exposed myself to the world.
Fear will not hold me in a cage no longer.

I think next year is going to be an interesting year.

I need to stop listening to the “News”

Every day, there is yet another ‘news’ flash about the US election that makes me want to just disconnect. It seems like we have are executing MAD for politics. After this election, I wonder how things will reorganize, since I don’t think the contry or world can let it continue.

A news flash comes in…

If we can call this news.

Something outrageous spoken…

Words to incite emotion.

The media gobbles it up…

And we consume the excrement

Will we get sick?

Only when the man on TV says so.

But I am sick now.

Can we end it now?



One of my Facebook Friends posted about the Balkanization of kink. In a way, I think this is happening. I don’t want to talk about the aspects of it, but rather a short thought about it:

We sort. We filter. Everything is binned.

All tidy. All organized. Everything in order.

Each category isolated and siloed away.

How do we know what else exists outside of our silo?

If someone outside screams, that is not in my bin.

Others try to peer in and the walls keep them away.

If we hide amongst our own, how will we survive?

A selfie conversation

Morning arrives. Alarm Wakes

Buzz… Buzz… Buzz…

Put my eyes in.

Reality blinks into focus.

Walk into the closet.

How do I want the world to see me today

Put on the spandex.  Colorful, shiny, and tight…

Second guess myself.

Tie my shoes.

Ready to brave the world.

Grab headphones and turn on the music.

Do I want the world to see me in this?

Do I listen to this self doubt?



Put aside this feeling, pick a direction.

Ignore the world around me

Let my body pick a pace.

Run somewhere where I won’t be visible.

Head into nature.  What little we have.

Sweaty, awake, refreshed…

See other people.  Some ignore, but some stare.

‘Freak’ ‘Fatass’ and other words of harm they must think

Continue until I get home.  Walk into the door.

Grab the camera and let the daily ritual continue…

Click… Click… Click… Chimp… Chimp… Chimp…

Criticize every flaw in my body.

Select the pictures.  Process them.

Ponder what will yield the best social media reaction…

Post to social media sites.  Wait for likes…

No one will like this!

Doubt settles in…

Is this what I look like now?

Yes, this is the results of your hard work.

A deluge of likes and reactions, further disconnect

This is not you… This is all an illusion!

Is this me?  My mind can not accept…

Still wearing the sweat soaked spandex.

That can’t be my ass, my legs, my bulge.

It is an illusion…

That can’t be my smile.

That is not you.  It is the illusion you put on social media!

These feelings overtake and saturate my mind

But it is you.

The struggle continues as I change for the day.

Peel off the spandex.

Someone is masturbating to your selfie

Normally that thought would make me laugh

But no one would do that…

Why don’t I accept who I have become?

It is all temporary…

It is not…

Why does this struggle surface?

Large changes are hard to accept…

Nothing is permanent… You will fail!

Can I put these doubts behind and move on?

You can’t!

But you must!