the comfort of forgetting

for Adi & Jennifer

a grip on the moment

that got me to now.

being alone is not loneliness,

missing fading faces

before i was birthed a zombie

after leaving the jaws of death,

memories nothing more than a

masquerade,

of not dealing with ever truly

touching another.

a mess in this darken cave,

entertained by shadows,

a grip on the moment of waking

that i have never been out

of this hallucination.

i dream to fade,

longing to be a distant memory,

so i can find the comfort

of being able to forget.

i can no longer reach out,

gonna drown in

apple ale, wine, filled syringes

derangement of shadows &

pregnant horse urine.

Open yer eyes to everything before you

Source: Open yer eyes to everything before you

If I had a choice of superpower

Nothing is Permanent

My superpower would be womanhood

With one hand a fist one hand open I’d castrcastrate,confront, dismantle and destroy the decaying patriarchy.

On my shield would be a picture of Emma Goldman & Valerie Solanas & bell hooks & Andrea Dworkin & Mary Shelly

I’d have rose diamond ring that would call up the Spanish Anarchists & Weather Underground & Haymarket Square Anarchists of 1884 & The Black Panthers

My weapon would be a knife and books and poetry and guitar

I would live in a cave

Sent from my MetroPCS 4G LTE Android Device

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I’m bored of male violence

Nothing is Permanent

I get out of my bed

 to get to get some

Cold filtered water,

I said nothing to

No one,

I have no sign on me

To help anyone with

Their  lives,

Especially their  love

Life.

I’m not looking to be the

Inbetween,

To send a message to their

Long distant love,

I admit I am a romantique…

I cry to myself in the shower

When I see two people

In love,

It comes out like rain drops

Turning into a water fall

Then a monsoon,

Erupting into a a waterspout

In the oceans of my very being,

I acknowledge that I haven’t

Had sex or been loved

In 23 years,

I had my chances.

While obsessed in a deep passionate list

With my co-worker that drove me

To work day after day at cedar point,

I was told on the last before me and

List crush jumped in Snoopy…

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One Year (Week #4)

Nothing is Permanent

The grotesque hilarity of all that surrounds me,

That will never leave my eyes

Even if was ever to go blind,

As the ole dear maxim goes:

“The end of the world happened yesterday! !!”

Always with a cute picture of angels & demons

Kissing, hugging, fucking, making love

Under the burning blazing sun

Going down into the beauty of darkness,

The moon so gallantly rising like

A dazzling emerald jewel waking up out of long

Dizzying sleep.

I just have sat back and laughed out loud

Whilst I laughed my ass off,

With everything that I have been witnessed to-

The sights I have seen have raped my

Eyes, mind, heart and soul.

Though still it like living

In some live cartoon,

Some television sitcom,

But ever more everyday like

The movie with the prophet

Bill Murray   “Groundhogs Day”.

There are buildings on fire,

People jumping out of windows

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Someone asked me where I see myself in 5 years

ya this it. all of it. come back in 5 years we will have a reunion of this grand moment- this moment is everything…EVERYTHING! !!

Nothing is Permanent

In this in 148 words it will be the things I purposely don’t choose to say that reveal where I am at & who I have become in 42 years of this finite existence as of this date of our beloved ROZZ WILLIAMS. In 5 years I see myself consistently & constantly touring as the drummer/songwriter of my Radical Feminist Goth Punk band ANOMIE. I will have by then made amends with the psychology community after years of writing hard biting exposes, poetry, articles how the psychology world is sadly decaying because of the sdrawkcab disease of patriarchy & capitalism. I will be teaching Improv at The Groundlings & on my way to being a beloved writer & poet. All this while I am working towards opening a group of my own Improv theatres stating in Cleveland, Ohio.

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Social Exhaustion part 1

Societal Exhaustion

                                       Part 1

 

 

   It saddens me to see tweets exclaiming that young teenage girls are being bullied to be transsexual if they fall out of the accepted guidelines of our self-imposed rigid lines of gender. How one plays or likes has nothing to do with gender expression. Whether it is little Sally playing with trucks, or little Billy playing with dolls. Or whatever combination. In childhood there should be no restriction on a child’s play. They should be able to decide for themselves how they want to play. It is when the play is restricted that this becomes a problem.

   In high school I got suspended for wearing makeup, I got out of school suspension for wearing a plastic bag as a skirt and I got refused my desire to take a cosmetology on the basis because I was male. Of course then I got kicked out of school for a week because I called the principal a sexist and misogynist. I ended up taking a class in Graphic Communications. I loathed very minute of it because of how I got into the class. I projected all my loathing and hatred on my teacher. He was a nice guy, and I was a jerk. I was such a jerk that for my last 3 months of class I had to clean the cage daily. The next year I was permitted back.

   It was a fun time at this school. I met some real interesting people. Most important I met Beth Biasella.     We talked about anything and everything. We went out to eat, a lot at My Friend and Big Egg. She introduced me to a lot of great music. She introduced me to Odd Girl Out, The Sundays. I was already into RIOT GRRRL and Radical Feminism. I had expressed to her that I loathed being male, and that I wanted to do what I could to come as close as I could to being female.

   At this stage in my life. I knew myself very well. I was pretty well read in a varied of subjects. I wanted to expand my mind on everything. I had dealt with being transgendered since I was in the womb. I remembered early on the 8 weeks before the androgen invaded my body, leaving me deformed with a parasite between my legs. Men are incomplete women, therefore men are inferior to women. That was how I felt.

    Beth got some estrogen patches that her mother had. I was hooked. I can say now that estrogen is a much better high then heroin, and the feeling of estrogen tarring through the body is better than sex.

     When it comes to transsexuality this backwards culture is cruel. People should be able to do what they want to their bodies. The standards of care don’t help. Neither does religion, schools, family. The person already has to deal with themselves. Being transgendered is solitary like Majic, and both are gifts.

   I have struggled with it for a long time. No matter what I do whether it be  vaginoplasty , estrogen & progesterone I realize and know I will never be a woman. In 2004 I did a full, but still left with the parasite between my legs. I have decided to go back on hormones and work towards to complete the transition that I should of done in the 80’s. I had come out to a psychiatrist in 1988 when I was 13 going on 14. He didn’t even want to discuss it. All he said was that I didn’t look like one. How does one look “like one”? Be all the fucking stereotypes that society drops on us. It pissed me off. I haven’t seen a male doctor since that day. Well at least to the best of abilities. His comment did piss me off. It pushed me to eat a lot. That was how I dealt with emotions, food,tv and music. 

  When I look out into the world at the moment, I am excited at the Johnny Come Lately acceptance of transsexuality. I would be in joy being on social media with transformation videos. The bullying of others I loathe. As I have said the journey of being transgender is a solitary one, one I welcome with open arms. To be free in a world that trampled on the individuals freedom continuously, does not mean projecting your loneliness on others. There needs to be a comfort in being who you are alone whether others accept you or not is their baggage. These bland lines on gender is at worst destructive and misogynist. If your going through something you can’t expect others to assimilate to you as you have no need or desire to assimilate to what others want you to be.

 

    

Man shoots off his own penis taking selfies with gun

The Way Trans Activists “Argue” with “TERFS” *Trigger Warning*

if i got killed for being a white man

Source: if i got killed for being a white man