Strange Land

Sometimes I look at myself from across the room. There I am on the suede chesterfield watching odd documentaries with my husband about Adolf Hitler's sexual fetishes. My husband whom is in a corset. I am in my pajamas and high heels. Odd canvases slobbered with my imagination cover the walls. Strange artifacts and photos of odd people from around the world fill the shelves. Sipping on some of the best bourbon ever made. How lovely.

To think this is not how the people live. To think they have to hide out under disguises of normalcy when no one is really all that normal. To live shielded by a job, religion, particularly plain clothes and accessories. To come home at night and watch what everyone else is watching. All in the home furnished from the store that everyone else goes to and purchases a duplicate of the same thing.

No, it's much better to be myself with all the other people who want to be themselves. The domme queens and plumbers in sissy uniforms. The midgets who like to dress up like pirates. The metal heads relieving themselves on loud. There's no shame or guilt in a true lifestyle. There's nothing wrong with daddy wearing a diaper for kicks or your climbing a mountain to worship no body. 


It's always been a circus that I've slaved my way towards. A good release of personality into a Rocky Horror Picture Show life. To think they'd want anything else. Jesus on a crucifix and a three piece suit life? They'd prefer it. It was death to me. Death to a great imagination and death by a non-existent shameful guilt. Yet they run towards that because they're scared. Too scared to be who they want to be. Whatever that might be. Maybe because it's a little too hardcore and nobody gave them their safe word.

I'll stay up here. I'll keep watching the Sheeple move along and think it must be some odd Sci-Fi series. No one needs to tell me it's real. Surely no one in their right mind would want the things they say they do. Crazy is sane and sane is crazy down here on planet Earth.

Zodiac Killer

I found it a bold move to change the zodiac signs (LINK) even though grounds had been found to do so. Growing up in a zodiac-obsessed mindset I know how important it is to know, "What's your sign!?" Changing it all of a sudden must have really sent some people into a tail spin. Telling a Leo they are no longer a Leo is like telling a Catholic that the church is a fairytale and Jesus killed their puppy.

In fact I was so surprised by the announcement because I was of the understanding that no matter what inconclusive evidence stood to change a tradition, people just don't do that. It's right up there with religion and politics. Even though we know some political agendas are a horror, that doesn't stop us from thinking people ought to hold fast to them due to tradition. Just because Grandpa voted for a Republican means you should too, it doesn't matter what that Republican may stand for. Just because science has disproved the existence of a Sky Daddy and history has exposed religion as a scam, you are expected to continue to subscribe.

Like an adult forcing their children to believe in Santa Clause we stick to the zodiac we know as much as we believe the horoscopes we read in the paper. Although there is something to be said about the truth to falling under a certain constellation, however on the other side of things you can fit into a lot of the zodiac descriptions just as much as any horoscope could be tailor-made to suite what happened last week.

Honestly I did breath a sigh when I found I made the cut off for Leo. I am a fiery rapturous angry creature who thinks he or she is king of the jungle. Knowing other Leos who are now Cancers makes me think they must be awfully pissed. The kings and queens have been dethroned and that is exactly what it's going to feel like for any Leo.

Looking around at the articles that have popped up the titles say it all. Zodiac Change Causes Panic, Zodiac Shift: A Real Mood Killer, Changes in Zodiac Cause Identity Crisis... On one hand I can say that if you needed to be defined my traits connected to constellations - you didn't have an identity to begin with. On the other hand we align ourselves with what we want to be. And telling me I am no longer labeled a Leo by society would be telling me that my name isn't really The Artist D!

And Then God Said ...

Crawling around on mountains is a favorite weekend activity for me. I like to find places and things that few people have seen. It makes me feel special. It makes me think this world is a little less two-tone neutral. Today while crawling somewhere I had not been we came across a homemade crow's nest look-out. A surround of rocks with an old bar stool in the middle, overlooking the city.

On the way up the hill it was littered with rocks carved with people's names and dates. Years spanned from the early 1960's to the present day. I found that to be particularly neat, however finding the crow's nest at the top was even more spectacular.

It's spectacular to me because it's evidence of something structured existing outside of the confines of rule. On top of a mountain in a slightly desolate part of an area a group or person gathered a bunch of rocks around an old junked chair. The chair has stayed. The rock formation has stayed. People have continued to carve their names on rocks since the early 60's in this area. All existing without the control of government or policing the rock formation. It may sound odd, but it gives me hope that people are not all imbeciles. A glimmer of evidence that people know what is really sacred. This is sacred to me. Even if the chair and rock formation arrived a year ago, no one has taken away the rocks that were apparently carved in the 60's. I am so used to everything being destroyed. Everything in our society is just trashed if it doesn't have a surveillance camera aimed at it or armed guard standing in front of it.

Some hippie carving him and his girl's name on a rock on a mountain in 1969 is exceptionally meaningful to the longevity of someone's existence. To me. This is a refreshing thought in a life where I have come to know that 85% of what anyone does is futile, even people whom try to do something worthwhile. In my world we die. Our molecules evaporate and absorb into the fabric of the universe. The way we spent our time was usually jack shit. They may just be a molecule, but they've etched their names while drunk or high on top of a mountain. That is something special.

Is it True that When You Were Born the Doctor Turned Around and Slapped Your Mother?

Some people are mean. I know, you figured that out already. I'm a very fortunate person that I get to usually live with my head in a universe designed by myself. Some days I get to experience what other people regularly experience or just knew already. Such things include gay marriage is illegal, transgendered folk are not totally accepted, free spirits are shit upon and a high school education actually matters.

Recently in the midst of a business transaction someone was actually quite rude to me for no particular reason other than they are a really bitter upset human being. The individual in question was so blatantly mean to everyone throughout the transaction that it was impossible not to note. Which in turn made me think just how terrible some people are for no particular reason. I may walk around calling people idiots and pointing out their flaws, but it's always a valid approach. You've got to show me you are an idiot. I can not just walk up to anyone and call them an idiot. I can not insult someone I do not know. I can not point out what I think is a flaw without taking the time to know there's something to be pointed out.

This person though, Sweet Jesus. It just makes me wonder the most simple things there are to wonder. Why are you such a fucking asshole? I suppose what it all boils down to is there are enough people and things in this world to be bitter, mean, angry and violent towards. That being said, some people have decided to wreak their vengeance upon small kittens too? It's slimy. A slimy way to be.

In a lot of ways it's like a villain in a Disney Movie. These characters whom were Just Plain Mean™. Who knew that there were real people in the world like that? A creature so vile and pointless that they are insulting slimy personalities just because. Just because someone stole their puppy once upon a time.

The moral of the story is grow up and find something to direct your ruthlessly stupid behavior towards. That is, something that provokes anger and not just the egotistical urge to steamroll the innocent. Either that or hire a Dominatrix and release your tensions by have your testicles squeezed into a small cage with needles. Believe me, it's worth a try. I know those guys!

Ringing it In

The New Year has always been a time for me. Brainwashed from a young age that it is a starting point, I have always excitedly and with great paranoia had a moment each New Years Eve where I hoped I'd make it one more year. It was far more devastating as a young teen. Huddling around the big clunky television with a bad tasting bottle of wine or maybe my horrific addiction of 7Up with vodka. The vodka that tasted like lighter fluid at $9/gallon. Not the vodka that tastes like rubbing alcohol at $25/gallon.

I would watch Dick Clark in Times Square and hope one day I'd be better than that. Usually I had thoughts of what I would accomplish that next year. Menial things really. Of course I've always been big with the things I wanted to accomplish, so there where plenty of lofty ideas of what was to come. Lofty to me. Internet's First Super Star lofty, if you know what I mean.

Then I started living my life and I still don't think there was ever a New Years Eve that I celebrated at a party. It was always a much needed quiet moment to focus. Then upon moving to the desert where there are fireworks one gets to stand outside in the cold and watch all the pretty lights. Whatever works. Whatever doesn't involve lots of people. If you're going to use the New Year as some sort of starting point, it would be insanity to want to do it by getting drunk with two million people in a crowded lot.

Last night while pondering my next year I was sleeping. The first of very few New Years Eves spent with my eyes closed. I heard the fireworks. I had thoughts. But I was comfortable enough with myself and my future to not make it a focal point. Because, quite frankly, if you're not hoping, trying and reaching for your accomplishment every day then it's probably not going to work out very well no matter which way you slice it.

This last year of 2010 was very interesting. I start the years by labeling them with an expectation. Last year it was "2010 is Zen." I suppose in a lot of ways it did turn out to be Zen. The truth of Zen is that it can be pretty nauseating at times. It's been a harrowing and change-filled Zen of a year for a lot of people. There was great shift, but it all shifted so quietly and slowly. It was a slow motion explosion.

As for the oncoming year I find it too good to label. In fact since we have graduated outside of the single digits alive, I find it almost too demeaning to label a year one way or another. It will be all sorts of good things, so fill in the blank. In the grand scheme of things however it turns out, 2011 will be 2011.