Discover more from Bricks, Wigs, and Gay Crimes
I See Dead People
I’ve been having trouble getting back to writing
February was a tough month of temporary personal poverty and news of anti-transgender legislation spreading across the country. It’s pushed me into my place of personal sanctuary. A mindset of oh-fuck-it and joy-is-within-not-without. I’ve kinda been stuck there.
The amount of hatred building around the trans community seems to surprise people. Not me. I’ve seen it up close. I’ll never forget when I was more politically active, testifying to the North Carolina State Senate.
They were about to pass the first anti-transgender bill to hit to country. I walked through a crowd of hundreds of far-right protesters. Mostly from the local churches—showing us all how to love the way Jesus did. I walked into the building and stood in line with other trans activists waiting to testify. I poured out my soul to a group of about 100 people–mostly angry old white men. They nodded and seemed surprisingly moved by what I said.
It was the truth. We’re being attacked constantly. We can’t get jobs. We don’t have families. All because we don’t identify with our assigned gender. Because we want to live freely; authentically. One of them came up to me after the meeting and shook my hand. He said, “That was a good speech. You did great. I won’t be voting your way, but you did great.”
That jerky pile of sand is still in office, and he seems to have multiplied. His clones materialize as people who know trans people exist. They know we’re in trouble and choose to let us go further into peril. And they’re getting better. Smarter. Savvier. Some of them know more about hormone replacement therapy and trans theory than I do. They also know that their side has nothing if it doesn’t have some entity for their people to fear. Right now that entity seems to be folx like me.
So I’ve leaned on the thing that saved my life. My spirituality. I realized that I’m not open enough about that. This post and this abrupt transition are an attempt to change that. Everyone does tarot readings these days and looks at their astrological chart. But I live by it. I’m able, to an extent, to communicate with the other side and get hints of past and future events when I’m in meditation. I can even remember my past lives and see the past lives of other people. I hate talking about these things because I barely believe what I see. Also, there are too many unscrupulous people who lie about having these skills to take advantage of others. Besides, who knows, all of it could have been my imagination.
I’m bringing it up for two reasons.
Number one, you, reading these words, may also be scared. If so, I strongly recommend some sort of meditation or calming technique. For me, it’s classical yoga that focuses on meditation or functional fitness training. You don’t have to move to a monastery to find inner peace. Please reach out if you feel inspired to. I’m happy to help.
Number two, you, readings these words may also have similar spiritual experiences. I’d love to chat about it. Maybe you could help ME? Perhaps you want to practice your intuitive ability? Let me know!
I likely won’t bring this up again because I’m always worried about sounding like Kenneth Copeland or some other televangelist making a down payment on a private jet.
In other news. . .
The first episode of a new show for Gay Cities/Queerty/Into Magazine will be live in a few weeks. It’s going to be called TransContinental and I’m going to be Tranthony Bourdain. (See what I did there?) This episode will be covering Asheville, NC. Soon, I’ll be coming to a city near you! Maybe?
The next post will be a guest post from our mystery writer, a trans woman working within the political system to make a better world for the community. Fun! See you then.