untizella

I kind of left 2 people today.

I left one alone, the other in self-righteous yearning.

One used stories to communicate w me, the other his assumptions.

One declared xyr distaste for me and I'm kind of ok with that bc I somehow prefer being hated than being loved for someone I'm not. It feels more honest. I mean I'd hate myself if I met myself sooo

One made the mistake of thinking I were a fish that could not see the hook piercing the bait with his love blinding me. Well, have I got news for ya!

One instrumentalised xyr anger towards me in an effort to let go of xyr anger towards the world - which is completely understandable and I wish I could give xem some relief of some kind? And I don't mind my existence attracting an intense flow of anger bc this is exactly what it's supposed to do. I topple governments, I build gardens. I wish you could have a tour of the garden first, tho.

One instrumentalised my lesbian yearning for him, got a bit too drunk on my seemingly endless spring of love and fuzzy and warm emotions to really notice what I've been saying. Then he instrumentalised his amazement at my first ever act of defiance in the face of his supposedly masculine presence demanding me to submit to his... will?

How about no?

One I will dearly miss, yet again. To xem, my patience is endiless and I'm ok with that. I'll be here whenever xe comes back. BUT and it is a big BUT xe and I need to talk about a lot of things. A lot of things. Whatever is left unsaid in me is one minus from what I want you to hold for me in your mind. Every bit of advice I can't find you around to ask for narrows down the space I will be able to hold for you in my mind.

One I didn't mind losing as it isn't losing per se but a forward looking move that makes sense? I am proudly asexual and he crossed a boundary. He then denied crossing that boundary and tried to convince me that I got it all wrong and IT'S ALL IN MY HEAD. That's why I know what gaslighting means, my love. You now know why.

One I'm kind of worried about. Thinking how I held xem in my head and in my heart for 5+ years before recognising what I felt for xem, I get overburdened by emotion. It's yearning x soulmate searching x yearning x sexual attraction x intellectual attraction x dom searching x emotional maturity and transparency searching x asexual pride, non-binary finery, etc. etc. If we could fit somehow, our lives would be so much easier. If we could trust each other one day, we'd find a friend for life. But for now, that's a distant possibility. I don't think xe likes me?

One I'm pretty neutral about. The warmth and fuzziness he gave me when I first saw him didn't cloud my judgment this time. I tried to get to know him instead of trying to get into his pants and it did work in that I was able to locate where the red flags were and if they actually fit mine - they didn't.

(Investigate when not high - what red flags would fit mine?)

who do I remind myself of

where do I think I am right now

is it the muddy terrain I've just climbed up and down

just so my grudging knees can rise up for once in their lives upon a sturdy frame of muscles wrapped around bones

it feels good

I've missed this

I've yearned for this

why am I high right before work?

what am I trying to remind myself

who do I remind myself of

is it punishment as always

like skipping meds by mistake on purpose?

like allowing him entry into my dream realms where I'm supposed to reign supreme

allowing him the chase he'd die to be able to embark on, yet so real in the dream land

he must've felt it

he must've felt it

where does this audacity come from?

show me I'm bold enough

show me the tears I'll shed will be fodder for your cows

to wander with joy all around my meadows

never fearing their fate

but celebrating it

as a natural death is by no means a common blessing

show me please show me

I'm bored here

I'm bored of having been stuck for so long with no limb willing or able to reach and pull us out

my bones practically enjoying the warmth of mud all around them

having yearned for human touch for centuries

real human touch that is

why the fuck am I crying before a job???

show me

please

see what it fancies

see what it looks like

see how it sees itself

the crossroads is real.

the drug-induced drawing of the three is no joke.

you can avoid responsibility and accountable decision-making and self-discretion and manifested destinies and incarnations (never reincarnations) and consequences for so long.

mine took about 40 years.

oh I'd rather be free

please let me be free

please go for me being free

opt for it

prefer it

let the other option chill you to your bones, give you an itch down there, and call ants to crawl on your skin.

please.

as you're terrified of me looking into what we have and what we are actively building to see IF WE STILL DO FIT

just bc you made your claim on me and want to keep me and want to beat me in this pretentious dance where they shoot horses

I don't want to be shot

I want to roam free

You think you're free rn you're not but you want to be less free and allow yourself less of the earthly pleasures I so adore.

I know I'm not free rn I am, in fact, relatively free and would like to be more free and allow myself more of the earthly pleasures I know will come my way...

Maybe it is bc it's all so paradoxical that we can't see eye to eye.

You appear to be after peace and quiet while you try to control every moment of your life but fail miserably, causing yourself more distress along the way.

I appear to be after drama and fun while I have let go of all control except for the small bit I have been entrusted with by the universe to control - which is practically miniscule - and anything I want to control I do control (except when I revolve around you at your exact pace, having been captured by your restless aura), allowing myself more comfort along the way.

This is what hurts me - I'm not trying to hurt you by letting you know what hurts me. You should know and babe there's never a good time to tell sb you have no future when the other person has already started cleaning an empty room in their house for oneself or dreaming about a happy cishet house with kids...

You've never complied with any boundary I have set with you.

NEVER.

I don't want to test it. I want you to open your eyes and see me for what I am. I am a fairy, that's a given, but boy do I have wild dreams and a heart rejoicing in newfound freedom...

I need to plan this out and even this necessity hurts me. I can't believe I had no time whatsoever these 2 weeks to tell you about myself, what I've been going through. It's a sad sad realisation that.

I'll talk to you on Sunday, once we get home.

[redacted],

I wanted to write to you. I feel like we left it half way. Sorry if I'm intruding.

I can see now how I left things unsaid in that bubbly, tipsy, ballsy, and hyper state. I was drunk on Pride and, towards the end, pretty high. I was in "protecting my castle" mode and this knight failed to let you know how much you meant (ehm mean) to me.

Your face is still the first thing that I picture in my mind after I wake up from stress-laden sleep. I still find comfort and solace that you exist and I had something of a shot with you.

I miss you. It's there, I can't deny it. All those soppy songs didn't come out of nowhere. I find myself wanting to text you. I'm sad, too. I sing songs of yearning and good byes at the top of my lungs as I dance in the living room with sweat running down my cheeks instead of tears.

I told you about how whatever we had and whatever we shared gave me new life and it's still there for me to cherish. This new me I've uncovered came out partially because she wanted to be seen by you and look good for you. The warmth and softness that made a home in me became a pillow for my weary head on sleepless nights.

I hope my presence brought you some good things, too. I hope we did good by each other even in this "situationship" and where it's landed.

That day, you mentioned how disappointed you were and I couldn't share the sentiment then; I knew it was there but didn't come to the surface. I am disappointed, of course I am, but not in you or myself. I am disappointed that this flower I'd been nursing for you, covering it in lace, more flowers, and some sweet scents in anticipation of the first time we'd share that "touch" - whatever it might be - just couldn't blossom.

I don't regret much in life but I did regret to inform myself that I had to keep my feelings in check. I had to be brutally honest about it on a conscious level as my "toxic" traits had already been crying out rather loudly about how they didn't match what we could have. What I considered normal was toxic to you and vice versa. So it was more about an adult responsibility to protect myself - and although it's not my place to say - to protect you than me backing off from something good on a whim.

I liked you. I still like you. But the yearning bit - however long it may last - is where it should end.

The first day I met you, I wrote: "I love myself and my love for you more than I love you." It may sound quite selfish but I know full well that if I don't feel loved, if I feel I don't respect my own choices, and if my love for you gets tainted by whatever reason, I will not be able to keep a happy presence in any relationship, which, in turn, will make you unhappy.

It's damage control - the last exit before the bridge that'd end up in harm reduction, which I know full well is beyond both of our current capabilities to take on. I'd like you to be carefree, peaceful, happy, and content with whatever you are going through and my romantic or sexual presence there would get in the way of that.

It does make me sad. I'd been alone for too long to still be yearning for someone and not having them with me, but hey, we're old and mature, right?

I'll now talk to my feelings, think about new ways to find joy in things, and get some rest (and sing soppy songs). Then, if we're on the same page, I really do hope we can manage to go forward with and build a good friendship. That's why I'm glad we had that chat in the end, things felt normal, non-awkward. The only thing I can't be for you is your wing man, but I guess that goes without saying :)

You deserve to be deliriously happy. Your heart deserves cuddles. You deserve somebody whom you'll fall in love with exactly as you'd described it to me. You deserve somebody who'll come up with more answers than questions. I hope you find that and I can help you along the way and we can share the drunk gossip as we go on adventures.

Please take good care of yourself.

Thank you.

compassion on the other,

satisfaction killed the other man.

I am developing catching breaking nurturing? feelings for you.

I don't know if I become stranger every day just so you can see me

or if you're nothing but a mirage I'd like to hold dear

as the possibility of some real aromantic and asexual loving.

I don't know if I'm uncovering the layers to reach my pure love for you

or I've dreamt this love into being just so I have something to cuddle every night,

that's why I was able to keep my distance - I'm in love with you, as a free person, as you, as purely whatever you've come so far with, whatever you've left behind,

even now am I writing this as the fruit of my loins, my dear lovely beautiful pitiful loins that have lusted after you for years - probably ever since you'd said the first edgy thing that got me wet.

Are you real?

Am I?

It is scary but never as scary as when I was not aware of how I felt and how that affected me.

My LOC is internal but has connections with you.

I am so sorry that I've fallen in love with you and I really congratulate myself for not letting me in on the secret all these years -

otherwise you wouldn't love me and nor I would you.

I wasn't lying when I said it'd be the dream (to have a shot with you) and I curse myself for this newfound agency in me which practically requires me to let you know as it'd be lying otherwise.

And I'm here lying

FUCK YOU JUST TEXTED ME

AND YOU TALKED ABOUT FILM CHARACTERS WHO ARE LAB RATS FOR DRAMATIC INTENTS AND PURPOSES.

JUST LIKE ME.

and I feel like I'm betraying you by not telling you about the dripping dripping of liquefied human flesh into the bed soiling it in ways you will be able to acknowledge only when cursed and maybe not even then

but what if it is the artist in me writing for me the biggest legend of love and sacrifice and responsibility and authority and freedom the fucking promised land just so I can get over my crush faster?

I am OK with not knowing, but I can't expect them to be.

The lines blurring is exactly why I need to talk to you.

I want to make myself known.

Would you perhaps consider being the person who knows me?

Can I ask you that without taking that painstakingly honest and spiky crown of thorns, the heavy memento of colonial times, smelly, too, and putting it on your head, as the knowledge of the fire burning here in this part of the world will mean you'll not be the same.

Either way, any way, you'll not be the same.

We'll not be the same.

So should I not be sure of what I feel first?

Xyr love feels too close for comfort - for xem AND for me.

I know I'll be able to handle him, but xem, not so sure. My love burns. Some ppl need water.

But I'd very much like to be seen now.

My end goal is, well, to be cursed.

(2022)

The words in my head formulate to me a wonderfully intricate TRUTH looking me right between the brows.

I know where I come from.

The womb I climbed out of some years ago is the exact hole I would like to crawl back into.

To be gone forever this time. The burden I’ve born I will hand over to Sisyphus (My drag king name will be SYSSI PUSS). This is the last time I hang around in bars after a full day of cutting trees.

The body is weak. The pull is too strong.

- tenthousand days in the fire is long enough -

I forgot the face of my father and broken my promise I’d given to the first wink I released to the unknown that we call the future yet 0 isn’t smaller than 1.

You’re the product of whatever has come before you and will dissolve in whatever will come after.

If you will.

ROSE + wink + kış bahçesi + forget the notes / SING

I’ve kept your place; go then (there are other worlds than this).

All the while p/cherish the sight of blood you so love to wrap yourself in 

Just to have a good look of how beautiful you are in the mirror.

Dicks and balls and all.

I broke my promise. My turn is over now. The legacy I will bring to whatever will come out of me will be eternally tainted and I AM NOT THAT VALUABLE/EFFICIENT/COST-EFFECTIVE to run. I’m a computer that you end up dumping somewhere.

And that’s beautiful.

One night, I found myself lying in an extremely comfortable bed, made to feel all the safer for the presence of two well-wishing male-presenting friends nearby. The chemicals thawing in my veins, erupting here and there like into trembling little orgasms / imploding into pits of anxious hell / leaking puss just to crave some again.

i.e. I was too excited to sleep. 

She and he were laughing outside. They had lost themselves in enviable stupor, having managed to get as drunk as they would get with booze as with whatever else. Dreaming their pretty dreams, most probably made to feel all the safer for the presence of another well-wishing male-presenting friend and their best friend and her manit nearby.

She and he were having the most beautiful laugh my ears had the pleasure to hear. They were bonding. I was in my bed. MADE TO FEEL ALL THE SAFER. The veins have always been my friends, tolerating whatever shit I’ve put in them, I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but I’m way past 27, aren’t I?

So yeah, I was too excited to sleep.

The shit was good apparently. The much anticipated eruptions took us to yet another world this time - the orgasms became a volcano of one huge ball of energy travelling through me. Finding the places that haven’t been touched recently. The places that need some tender loving care.

Stimming can be transformative.

My hips, my eyes, the third eye I’ve painted at the back of my neck, my feet, (she and he) (and they) through the laughter, the bed, the 23-degree weather, the open window, the scent of a woman sweating for all the right reasons planting itself into the very fibre of the linen that MADE ME FEEL ALL THE SAFER. 

It was everywhere. People think so highly of the light, but some of us aren’t built that way. 

The energy that finds me is there; light you need to know dark when you see it. all truths are half truths.

The singularity of it all - I’m sure of it yet I can’t say.

All my truths are half truths.

My beautifully painted yet amateurish third eye sometimes speaks to me.

You know it’s friendly veins, people I love laughing, good shit, MADE TO FEEL ALL THE SAFER, soft warm linen, balls of energy (well), eruptions turn into volcanoes, the all visits me, and I give up on my earthly existence, and closing remarks.

I made a deal that day. I hope it is with who I think it is.

I asked for agency.

To do whatever I wanted to do.

And I said, “But I’m done with this existence”.

I forgave all. I love all. My turbulations are futile. I shall submit.

I forego whatever has been given / whatever has been promised.

If I have the agency to choose what I believe in, I shall believe this.

I signed the dotted line - I’ve got the agency.

If I hadn’t, I would’ve not fallen into all the pits I’ve invited myself to fall into.

If I hadn’t a famous writer wouldn’t have drowned 16 of his characters in the same well and call it his.

If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have tried and tested myriad ways of getting into the ways of this earth. It make no sense now than it did when I was 5.

I give up. As this is what I choose.

But if I hadn’t, my future being would’ve created a new reality for itself. There is only one reality. And I now want to be a part of it.

And I am the product of my age; so the ugly ways you have chosen to invest in for your salvation are mere brushes with yourselves, the intention having been undersigned only in a half-assed contract which many a judge will read a few times 5 minutes before hearings.

I shall make it mine.

If I can choose whatever I want to/can believe in, this shall be it.