Au femme

It continues to be a challenge, this living in two worlds and having two identities.  I’m not one of those ‘born in the one gender’ sorts. I’ve had a great male life and continue to have a great male life. I’ve just had gender dysphoria. It’s a mental illness. I was raped roofied and raped and had bisexual experiences as a young man.  Married my life went forward and had I had children I truly believe I’d be ‘contained’ by my ‘role’.  Clearly my preference has been women, married decades and primarily in relationship with women but now older sexually I look forward to the future.

I’m old. In the last few years I’ve wearied of the ‘manly man’. I’ve done my work on diesel engines, have all the skills of hunting and boating and did all the heavy lifting as an off shore sailor and wilderness specialist. I just want to be seduced.  

I had drank and smoked dope and thought the occasional break from reality every several years was that. I cross dressed. I left acting and dance for the serious world of medicine and missed the light hearted ness of the LGBT community. I’d touch there joining the drag queen ball and enjoying the Marci gras world compared to the strict world of ‘parent and child’ reality in the church and institutions I belonged to.  I’m single.  Most of my married male friends have had their single adult status overruled by the married ‘father’ role.

I’ve always had a great range of opportunity with flexibility and the freedom that in the past only the elite had.  

Sober now 25 years I’ve liked cross dressing. I like walking around other cities au femme and experiencing travel from the perspective of the outsider.  Not just a foreigner but really the outsider.  I have travelled extensively with the confidence and bearing of a dangerous man.  When I dress as a woman, especially now as an old person I’m quite invisible and also see clearly the arrogance and narcissism of the ‘in crowd’.  I don’t think I ever was a offensive as they can be but as a transexual I can reflect on how I’ve viewed the outsider.  I’ve struggled to be the insider in the hierarchy and have touched the top though never truly been invited inside. That place is power and family and generations and wealth. It’s not bad and it’s a world I’ve enjoyed but no longer like so much.

I much prefer the recovery world.  And I like the people who have gender dysphoria and are not using sexuality for making babies.I like the sexuality in the outsider world. I used to think it was prominent and maybe for the youth it is but not for me. I have had major success au drab having relationships and sexual partners but I’ve been the hunter. Au femme I’m the hunted though no one is hunting.  I like though that there’s the mystery that some other odd person might approach and we’d have coffee. I’m old and not so interested in sex but I’m interested in conversation and titillation of the uninhibited where the possibility is in the air and yet we don’t act as the coffee tastes just fine.  I rather enjoyed that world with women where we ‘flirted’ and laughed but then the girls all became angry and used sex for dominance and power and lack all ‘noblesse oblige’.  

I simply don’t want to talk with strange heterosexual women because I’ve been falsely accused of sexual harassment twice and both times they did it for money or spite. Yet the powers that be protected and supported these lying vulgar psychopaths and projected their worst perversions on me a rather boring old white guy.  

No I don’t want to deal with the female Stazi.

I have had a girlfriend but I’m frightened and don’t know how long I can stay in a country where women vote the likes of Trudeau in and good women say they don’t care for politics when men are being collectively abused. I spent decades fighting for women’s rights and now I’m the vulnerable one.,

My back injury and the traumatic arthritis have made the idea of masculine mounting and ravaging totally unappealing.  I’ve cared for women all my life accommodating their self pity and self centered ness and all their complaints about men and their rage and lethality.  I don’t see a future for play there. I don’t want to be a monk and I don’t want to let go of sex and I’m tired of being alone.

I don’t particularly like the gay male scenes where the ‘locker room’ guys are hyper masculine and it’s all rather like the competitive political guys working out at the gym.

I like the Betas’s everywhere, the artists and scientists.  I’ve all the skills to be a an ‘alpha male’ and won in that world but I’m an old guy and I don’t want to compete with disrespectful young men and beurocrats who can call in the Calvary if you don’t commie or parrot the lingo.  

I’m sad.

I like Klinger. I like the Mollies.

I’m not interested in being naked with men and not even that interested in being naked with strange women.  I read that it’s good for one’s health to socialize but Covid has left me afraid to go out if I don’t need to .  I’m anxious .  

Now I do participate and I’m very active and I go through the motions but I’m kind of missing the open minded crowd of my youth before I became serious and had to deal with all the angry women and all the offended people and spend a life walking on egg shells judge by the heavy handed thick police mentality doctors and sorts who have power and have no idea how to exist in 4 inch heals or fighting with feet against a knife wielding gang member.

I’m happier with my friends who survived jails and asylums than the rather boring closed minded sorts.

I don’t like that I’m judgemental. I don’t like that I’m distracted by the politics. I’m asking whether to be a celibate monk or a transexual or a heterosexual old man.  

Given the 10 to 1 times women have rejected men collectively in their lives its pretty clear that they’re not the ‘sexual ones’.  I like the group Sex and Love Addicts anonymous and wonder if I’m holding on to the desire for sex and intimacy when I can instead be deep in prayer or meditation.  But I don’t think God gave us this creation to reject it. I’ve left off the stoicism and nihilism of those religions that reject hedonism and Epicureanism. I figure when I’m dead I’d have enough time eyes closed and without sensation in another dimension with the presence of God. I want the sensual spiritual presence of God in this world and not to be with those who reject the world and are prudish and angry.

I’m confused, obviously.  So I’m safe. I walk everywhere but mostly I enjoy drinking coffee and writing about the confusion. I used to go to the LGBT noon meeting and I miss it. 

The taboos were absent. I didn’t worry about what I said. I’m tired of worrying I’ll say ‘fuck’. I’ve paid a million in penalties for saying ‘fuck’ all the while watching those with privilege say ‘fuck’ without costs.   I don’t like the casino suits of the lawyer/beurocrat want to be.  I like t shirts and shorts. I like frivolous things. I’m old. I’ve done that world of of tough and have no more to ‘prove’.  I like my friend who did several tours of war and calls me the ‘Canadian hippy’.  I like that he is my friend and doesn’t think I’m ‘flakey’

I don’t know many people I’d trust to have my back.  Ironically these military guys would trust me.  That’s what is unattractive in he confused transgender world .I like people of character and spirituality and there are morals and values and too many are criminals and into drugs and alcohol . I like my friends who are fathers and responsible and have only a few of the LGBT community that I have the same level of trust as I have for the main stream crowd.  I don’t want ‘party’ friend and don’t want the ‘club sceene’ group.  I like my gay friend who was a forester and loved wilderness as I do.  I liked my gay sailor friend.  So it’s people who share my appreciation for meritocracy and competency and are giving and not want to take. 

I don’t know. I’m muddling along. Slouching to Bethlehem.  Helping Jesus carry his cross not wanting to be crucified with him but not wanting to stand with the perverts and bullies the Sanhedrin or the Romans.  

I’ve an open day with limited responsibility and it feels good though the weather is good. My toilet is working . I’m struggling to pay bills with all the costs and dues and yet I have little reserve with the collective drain on the souls of the marginal that the elite bullies in Ottawa and glad talking theives do. I’m here trying to help. Like a Dutch boy with this finger in the hole in the damn.  It’s pretty good but I have no sense of the future and am paying off a mortgage worried that I’ll die without paying it off.  How much money does a person need to retire when the goal post is constant ly moved by the irresponsible corrupt lying sociopath with a trust fund in power wasting resources and stealing 2 / 3s of the pension that we worked for. I fear aging as my physical capabilities are already passing. How can I prepare when this sycophant closes the bank accounts of his enemies and takes the heat from us all in the cold of winter. I’m afraid and that’s a spiritual thing. I’m identifying with so many women and the LGBT community because I want nothing to do with the little tyrant.  I don’t want to associate with anyone who supports these people . I don’t want to defund the police but I don’t want to be punished for saying fuck by one lying girl and see a year of my life fighting the absurdity of those people who are incapable of doing real work so slather over ‘appearances’. The hollow men’.  I am left to as an old man looking back on how bullies beat us up. Today we have euthanasia for the mentally ill and said ‘fuck’.  The government steal billions and the news is all about pronouns.  

I begin to welcome death if only to be away from the Satanic satire then I realize it’s my resentment and fear, my mind that’s the problem.  Here and snow Life is good. I have to find peace of mind and acceptance . God is in charge and God is good . I need to focus on loving and caring and healing.  

I need to walk the dog more, survive this winter and am so looking forward to camping and sunshine. The days are getting longer. The puke in ottawa hasn’t given us radioactive material and I’m not in jail today.  I’m not ducking nuclear missiles and I’ve got money to pay the rent.

I need to be more grateful and clean up my side of the street.  I have to stop catastrophising. Even Trudeau prick that he is is not someone I know truly. I’ve seeing this guy through the media and the lens of my past. He’s the rich kid who roofied’ the girls from my high school.  People I know who know him actually like him. He’s elite and he doesn’t like any of us outsiders who are losers in his world ‘useful idiots’ but that’s the whole Laurentian Tribe.  I’m nobody in the west.  I”m a colonial.  I’m a Canadian to the New York guy .  

It’s whose in and whose out. I’m old and we’re on the way out and I’m not aging well.  I’m not going gracefully.  I must read Walden Pond again.  I’m going to retire one da and I wont be drawn into the terror as I am now by all those who are ruined by policies of government. I’m like the military doctor bandageing the wounded and knowing that the decisions of the leaders are wasting men. My wounded are the mentally ill who are more and more marginal and uncared for. The addicts are offered heroin and the sad are offered death.  They’re all losing hope because of the costs and inflation and the lies and lack of respect for an unethical government .  

I want the 2 /3 of my pension that was stolen by the kleptomaniac government. I’m a grumpy old man who would rather wear a flowered sarong, more comfortable .  

It’s all crazy and I’m only limited by my mind.  It’s divided and I need to know God more.  I need more God in my life.  I ‘m alone and afraid but of course I’m not alone but have so many friends and family and loved ones and yet I can actually wallow in my own self pity and create the imaginary world of insaniety.

I should be writing inspiring happy things or comedy.  Fuck.

Instead I ‘m lazy. It’s better i walk the dog. I’ll meditate and exercise more.  I’ll survive the winter and any day now I’ll be riding my motorcycle. Really don’t listen to me. Life is good and I’m blessed and I’ve even got a fishing rod and could go fishing. I can take care of the people who need help. I’ve got a hospital call. I have storage lockers to treasure hunt in and cull which will benefit others. I have to get to church though I struggle now what to wear. Should I wear a dress or a jacket. They don’t recognise me and I’m welcome any way. I love that the church welcomes me. Low bar club.  I could go to the faculty club in a dress or shorts.  I loved that scene in Lawrence of Arabia where he walks into the club dressed native.   I loved that movie and dr. Zhivago .  I identified with the persecuted.

Maybe our time on earth is the get an experience of persecution and false accusations and lies.  This is a game we play and we created the plot and here I am poised with the hand I dealt for myself.  Silly. Vanity. Vanity.  Laugh more. Sing.  Walk the dog

Don’t take yourself so seriously. Get out of your head and out of your home.  Get out!!!!!