She was the Mozart to my Salieri…

So, as many of you know, I had been in a loving relationship with a woman, younger than myself, this past year. She was a woman who dealt with, was created with what the world has decided to call, Asperger’s Syndrome. She was one of the most gentle souls I had ever met, and a great comfort to me, and a joy to my heart.

Courtney is a childlike, innocent spirit, and I knew, and I felt how much she loved me, and the feeling was mutual. There was something else I knew about her: that she was a genius. A genius in SOME respects, yes, and this is what I’m trying to aim for in this article. A person recently said to me, were you Salieri, to her Mozart? Ha. We are both artists, and the things she could create, I was blown away by. How she could sew and what she did sew, her work with duct tape, and then seeing her little laboratory in her mother’s basement, and the things, the work masks, chemicals that were down there, all for these tasks, that one usually wouldn’t associate with genius… nor with sewing! Let me also point out, that Courtney herself never referred to herself as a genius. She also possessed a level of depth of understanding of the human person, quite similar to myself and my close friends, and so I believe that had she had more formation and a good foundation, she would be brilliant in this area, and could understand just as much as my friends and myself do, because you see, much of what they excel in, and proclaim to be geniuses in, are at surface level. But, Courtney had another layer to her, whether she knew it or not. And so, this idea of missing that “good foundation” that would have made her a genius in the understanding of the human person, helps to show me the reality of universal and objective truth.
Courtney, being very young and still grappling with her emotions and how to deal with teh negativity she felt being seen as a person “who HAS” Asperger’s, along with some of my own neurotic behavior, and living in a world where really parents just encourage their children, in spite of their emotional circumstance to date, all helped our relationship to break down. And so I admit, that I played my part, and that the reality is, I should have shown first and foremost that I was her friend, not her partner. She does not really have any friends at all.

So, what I really want to get into here, is the concept of genius, and even just the usage of the word, and how it is thrown around. When I say it about Courtney, I am sincere in saying so and I am not using it loosely, and not using in a way to lift her up above myself or anyone, false worship, etc. But after our ending, I joined an Asperger’s support group, because she had so moved me to the cause, softened my heart, and I felt that many people in her position felt and struggled as she did. What I found instead in this group on Facebook, were people mostly complaining about quirks that were really OCD in nature that anyone including myself, could suffer from, and people flippantly stating in many of the posts how they were made fun of in school but “too bad now, because it turned out I was a genius all along…”. Things like that. I have OCD as well, and used to have it to a gargantuan extent, and I trip over my words and stutter if I’m not properly medicated etc; I just want to make that clear for people, that I have dealt with similar struggles, and not only did Courtney open my eyes and heart to this community, but I saw that I had things in common with them. I recall driving around with her, and everywhere we stopped, when she got out of the car, and she would have to open her trunk to make sure her laptop was still there. When coming back to the car, she would do the same thing.

Now, some of you may know, that people with Asperger’s, first of all, the thing has many layers to it, and so the problem with anyone and everyone who believes they have some kind of “syndrome” or “disorder”, is that they will point out symptoms that they have, that really, could not have anything to do with having the actual syndrome they have, as they are symptoms that I myself experience, etc. But, in any case, many people who experience Asperger’s cannot look you in the eye for very long, and that is a neurological issue. Also, many of them stutter and trip over their words, and cannot speak clearly and slowly, even with much, much therapy and “training”, as Courtney had gone through.

So, before I even met Courtney, that same year, I met a young man who was severely Autistic and was my age; he was a thinker like me, and exceedingly sweet in spirit. Then, Courtney came along, and, while knowing Courtney, another good young person came into my life, who believes himself to be on the spectrum at some level. All 3 of these people, very different, in their spirit, their nature; just plain gentle. Months later, after losing my Courtney, I was compelled to join that Asperger’s support group. Now sadly, hear what happened. Two nights ago I wrote a post, meant in all seriousness, in which I said “Wow. So many people on here call themselves geniuses, I have noticed. I know myself to be an intellectual genius, so is it ok for me to walk around telling people that?”. I wrote it to make people think (as always), and I seriously meant it, as well. Some people liked what I wrote, others really took offense. Many said to me “What is wrong with being really good at something and telling people about it, and thus finding the silver-lining in our having Asperger’s? Since you do not have it, it would come across as pompous of you to tell people you are a genius”. I said to her “Then that you are admitting that your Asperger’s “gives you” your genius, am I correct?” Before long, as these “conversations” on my post progressed, I found myself kicked out of the group, and entirely blocked. I can no longer find the group at all.

Genius. Who is a genius? What is one? What is genius versus brilliance? I have always been told that I am brilliant. So has my father. There is no test capable of measuring one’s “genius”. It just isn’t reality and isn’t true. Brilliance is a concept that is more accessible, and I believe, less aloof, and just plain realistic. I am very good at certain things, and therefore I have been called brilliant. This is absolutely no different from these people with Asperger’s. In life, this is how it is: we are al good at SOMETHING, there’s always at least one thing, that we shine in, so we are all brilliant in our own way. So, what I got from the Asperger’s group is sadly that, while these people are most likely gentle in spirit, as this seems to be their nature, they are still in a box, and they are part of a group. They may feel like outcasts, like they do not fit in, but there certainly is a place for them. And what I also realized is, is that it made me struggle with conceiving whether Asperger’s and autism then, are really things that are PART of you, some kind of thing latched onto you because of genetics, or is it just part of being created in a beautiful way? I was created in a beautiful different way apart from Courtney, and she was as well, from me. I believe that in them proclaiming themselves to be geniuses, they are essentially saying that it is their “disorder” that makes them geniuses. But as I was saying, I am sorry, but reality is that a test, a “syndrome” etc, none of that makes you a genius. You are who and what you are, and if you happen to be that, that is what you are; it is not because of a disorder you have, or what have you. Someone on the thread even said openly, I think out of insecurity, many of us call ourselves geniuses, and I believe that to be completely the truth about it. Perhaps yes, Asperger’s may help certain things come more easily and natural to a person, but that is not what gives them their genius, nor does it give you a free pass to being a genius. What I also got from this group, is that this word and concept, just as I am doing so now in this article, is being used and tossed around rather flippantly, carelessly. And it is a shame. And it is a shame that they believe their “syndrome” causes them to be as they are. This is not what Courtney was about, or wanted, or felt.

What I had always wanted to say to Courtney, as she struggled feeling like she did not belong, was: “Everyone is different. You are the same as everyone else, you’re not different, but we’re all different in our own way still, and your kind of different, i know makes you uncomfortable. I just want to try to help you be comfortable in who you are”.
So, as you can see, this group and being thrown out left me at a cross-roads and triggered many things. I felt a double-whammy: I felt now, maybe Asperger’s IS a thing, not just part of their creation, and look at what these seemingly “gentle” people did to me; and on top of that, Asperger’s got in the way of Courtney and I being together. Again, I will say, I realize that, they may feel apart from people, but they ARE in a box, like everyone else, they ARE a group. They are SO much a group, that they can throw someone out. And their being gentle by nature, no longer know if it is truly who they are, or if it is given to them in their Autism, just as their supposed “genius”. I don’t even know if I am expressing this correctly, in a way that one can understand. I just know, that the people I have known in person, are the gentle and kind ones. My one friend who suspects he is on the spectrum even jokingly said to me “What happened? Did you accidently sense feelings, and thus broke the rules?”. I am Catholic, I am gay, I am transgendered. I am pro-life, and I am against birth-control. There isn’t a single group or box that exists that I can crawl into and be part of, that is like me entirely, and can throw others out. I have my few close friends who are not like me but totally accept me. And so I suppose THAT is where I am meant to be. I am not meant for a “group”, it seems.

Again, I proffer them the idea to look at themselves, and just put it in perspective, which I do not think they do. I thought there was a group of humble, gentle spirits out there, but the way they behaved, made me feel that they really are just a “syndrome”. If they could think of what they excel in and just think “I’m brillliant at this”, or, “I’m really good at this”, just as most people do… So, as you can see, in the end, I am currently left feeling disenchanted, and disheartened. And, I do not like to speak in terms of “them versus us”, but for what happened last night and the sake of ease in discussion in this article, I am just a little bit. My close friend pointed out to me last night, clearly, these people who kicked you out, much like Courtney, are not in a position to understand you and us, and many of us do not understand them.”. But, I do understand them. What it made me think is, are some people with Asperger’s, aer they just by nature a different creation, the ones who are so gentle, like the people I have known, and do others, possess this sweetness, but also have this added layer of not being able to understand us to the point that it would lead them to be so unkind to someone else. Especially someone who repeatedly said I meant no offense, and there was no offense intended in my statement. Through that, I can see and believe that yes, many of them cannot process feelings in the same way. It isn not that they are not there, and that they don’t get crushed in the same way as I do, but they react differently. Such as, Courtney could be hurt and still plow away and focus on whatever she is doing, and come out with it brilliantly. Myself, I will be crushed and lose focus, and come to a standstill for a while. Again, we should not simply however, just attribute these things to having or not having Asperger’s and so on. Everyone is just made up of so many layers, and it is these plus past experiences, that lead up to all these things.

Thank you for caring to read this matter, close to my heart. Interesting how last year was the “Year of the Autistic person”, for me. Just as in my last post, Chuck and Buck, all this brought to light for me, how it is not enough, and sometimes it fails, to merely label things, people, their behaviors. It is not enough to say “I am a genius because I have Asperger’s”. It is not enough to say “He must be bisexual in some way, because as a child, he enjoyed sexual activity with another boy”. I find that in certain areas, when we do this, those words are like cement walls. And what are words? They are just words.

Just when it seems like I’m going to wrap up the article, I have yet something else to say. The whole experience just made me realize that, while people may feel different, and be part of a group that is different, they are still in a box and want to be there. What I wrote on that group’s page was nothing meant to be argumentative, and so it made me realize, that it is not worth my time and energy; they are where they are, and so what I wrote and how they reacted, is not my issue and not anything to truly be hampered by. They want to be where they are, it seems. I notice now that sometimes, people’s negative reactions towards you can bring a quick closure.

On Porn

there is a subversive culture that exists, that seeks to dominate women and put them down, and what is worse, is that women have joined it, not realizing what it is- pornography for the most part, is the domination of woman, and showing that the female sexual role is to be weak, while a man has the ideal body, and the ideal way to bring and give pleasure- it is subversive, just as the tv shows and commercials all in their small ways, if you have eyes to see, objectify woman, and woman only; they create her weak
and if you are the person who is saying, “hey, some people like porn, that’s the way they are; or hey, it’s their own thing, let them do it in the privacy of their home”, you are feeding right into the subversive evil hand that wants to lower women, and create people, particularly some highly sensitive women as myself, to not feel comfortable in the bodies they were born in- i will confess, i have viewed porn, and when i do, i feel thankful that i am gay, and though i have traveled a journey in trying to come to peace with my body while being transgender, the moment i see heterosexual porn, the only desire in my heart is to be a male, for what else is there? in those scenarios, there is nothing else but to be the man, for that is the only thing that will survive, because it has power. the woman, womanhood, is demolished. and the woman does not mind, all in the name of pleasure, stemming from a source of evil, stemming from lies about themselves. there are MANY, MANY layers then, as to what constitutes a freedom, and what is merely an atrocity to a society. MANY layers, in that, viewing that, could make someone desire to be the opposite gender. we are human, we are earth, we are sensitive, and thus we need care, including the care of those who will view this for the ill that it is, and the effect that it can have on a sensitive soul. what do they do to their bodies? what has a body become? that is what i think on, when i think on this.

The Ostrich in Love

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A beautiful little story I learned about over the course of my birthday weekend, and I wanted to share:

The Ostrich in Love

 

On Sunday the Ostrich saw a young lady walking in the park. He fell in love with her at once. He followed behind her at a distance, putting his feet in the very places where she had stepped.

On Monday the Ostrich gathered violets as a gift to his beloved. He was too shy to give them to her. He left them at her door and ran away, but there was a great joy in his heart.

On Tuesday the Ostrich composed a song for his beloved. He sang it over and over. He thought it was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

On Wednesday the Ostrich watched his beloved dining in a restaurant. He forgot to order supper for himself. He was too happy to be hungry.

On Thursday the Ostrich wrote a poem to his beloved. It was the first poem he had ever written, but he did not have the courage to read it to her.

On Friday the Ostrich bought a new suit of clothes. He fluffed his feathers, feeling fine and handsome. He hoped that his beloved might notice.

On Saturday the Ostrich dreamed that he was waltzing with his beloved in a great ballroom. He held her tightly as they whirled around and around to the music. He awoke feeling wonderfully alive.

On Sunday the Ostrich returned to the park. When he saw the young lady walking there, his heart fluttered wildly, but he said to himself “Alas, it seems I am much too shy for love. Perhaps another time will come. Yet, surely, this has been a week well spent.”

 

Love can be it’s own reward

ostrich in love

Different

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this is my post, and it’s going to be different. as i sit here, the person who wears tailcoats and lays it down for you all.

i am an angry person, and i am humble enough to admit it. i also have some kind of emotional disconnect from myself, my person, because when i look in the mirror, i don’t se fully who i want to see, and when i look at what im wearing, i don’t see fully what i want to see and what im wearing.

let me tell you something. different. the idea of different. people can love you or hate you when you’re different. some ways of being “different”, are easier for people to stomach, such as, when you’re way of being “different” is something that can still be put in a box and held up as a cause to support. like, me being gay- lots of people are ok with that; it’s the one bridge they can use to connect to me, and they uphold it and tell me i should have all these rights etc. but, another kind of “different” that people CANT stomach, is ideas. when your IDEAS are different, people cant take it. why? because your ideas are who you are. they make up the way you’re going to move around, crawl around and should yourself to the world. and ideas can become things that can oppress other people, or free them. even the idea of letting everyone be “free” by letting them do whatever they want, can oppress others, because their actions can make others sad and angry, because of the focus on the “self”, in these actions.
let me tell you something about rape. rape is not simply an issue of “Don’t tell our daughters how to dress”. no. rape is an issue of growing your child up with dignity. a man should be raised to know the dignity of himself, his body parts, and every other person and their parts. so shawl d a woman. a woman should know her dignity, including how best to dress and display her body. there is both passive and active types of aggression. let me explain that to you as both a woman, a gay person, and a transman. i recently went to the barber. i can tell you of 2 of the most intense feelings i ever felt all at once while sitting in that barber chair. the woman who was doing my hair, told me stories of her life; she is my age. they were stories about her abortion, her dating and marrying controlling men, about how she has sold herself by sending pictures of her genitals and breasts to the men she has been with. and, she has a young child. let me tell you from my unique perspective, being FEMALE, who also identifies as being male, and who is also gay and wants nothing more than to be with and love a woman. as i sat there, i was overcome with the desire to touch her inappropriately, sexually, and that she would not mind. i also was so powerfully overcome with the desire to kick hr in her stomach, knock her down, and start punching the life out of her, because to me, she has made herself nothing but weak. she has shown MY gender, in this weak light. she had sold herself and she needed a whooping. she made me feel BOTH these things. she is an example of PASSIVE AGGRESSION. the things i old have done, or that a male would have, are ACTIVE aggression in response to this disordered behavior on her part, a behavior that yes, is also AGGRESSIVE.
she essentially brought up my lifetime’s worth of sealed feelings towards women in one hour.
everything i just threw at you here: THAT’S different
what a gift though to be aware of those feelings. if no one felt them, who would be there to pray for each other? i was OVERCOME, blown away by what she made me feel.

now let me tell you about pot. here’s the problem with legalizing pot. you put a pot dispenser on the street. your average kid who wouldn’t be doing any type of drug, is suddenly going to start. when you’re high, you’re high, you’re stoned. you do it every day then, that is how you are. you’re in this fog when you’re doing things and talking. even people who aren’t doing it at the moment but do it regularly, give off this air. so when do i ever see the real you? you get high to get high, change your functioning. it’s good for your creativity perhaps, but not for functioning with other people. unless they’re high, too. you don’t drink a beer, resulting in a totally altered state of being.
now, THAT’S different, too, yes?

i was always different. sometimes i feel as though i was singled out to be the most different person on earth. i knew from as early as about 5, that i was attracted to girls, that i was not like the others i was in school with (at least not to my knowledge). i knew i was a man inside, i realized i identified with being a man, and with having male body parts, and supposedly male sexual desires, from before i was even a teenager. and now, im gay, im queer, and i have views and ideas that other people like me, those who are trans, gay, queer, mostly don’t identify with and understand. i want so much to be a beacon for christ, and yet my church doesn’t accept my desires and way of being fully. i have views that lots of people, gay or straight, don’t get or agree with. at this age i don’t even know im a man anymore, if that’s what i want. for now, i prance about in tailcoats, and bowties, neckties, and eyeliner, and the like. I am always different. I dont know why. To me, it’s a sign of God.

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I thought this would be short and sweet. That was a lie.

 

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Michael

ImageToday, I want to share a poem I wrote a while back, entitled Michael.  You will get the gist of what it is all about:

michael sits alone by the stairs
waiting for school to end
michael waits alone in the park
shooting hoops to no one
and michael is at home, in the dark of her room
in boys underpants, hiding out
michael is who i am
underneath those pants
michael is who i am
when i am wearing the things that make you ask me
if i am a boy or a girl
gender-obsessed in this world
and so michael, is really just michelle
he’s all i ever was
he’s all michelle ever was
he is michelle
she is michael
michael is who i am
when people go on their rants
they CHOOSE to go on their rants
about how boys are boys
and girls are girls
michael sits alone on the swings
micahel sitsa lone and is happy
michael sits alone and is thinking
michael sits alone and is me
To tie it all together, I had some thoughts today, as well.  I thought on a friend of mine who was raised Catholic but no longer believes in Christ as the figurehead for her faith.  It can take years, a lifetime, for a person to finally come to what they KNOW to be truth, for their FAITH to evolve, form and solidify  It could a person a lifetime to understand what Christ really means, who He is, why He is important to some, etc, or for any faith of course, that someone is investigating or trying to be part of.  It’s something that one allows themselves to grow into.  Faith, KNOWING, and thus truth, can never be a concept forced on us.  While the churches, the religions, hammer away at homosexuality, gender variance, etc, there are people walking around in real time, investigating THEMSELVES, how they feel, what they see when they look in the mirror, and who they love.  Speaking from personal experience then too, this can take years to figure out, understand, and finally feel comfortable, all within YOURSELF.  So here I find, that faith, Christ, my identity, my orientation, all converge as various paths of growth, that each require the same amount of care.  And yet, here we’ve got churches, mainly led by those I am sure, who DIDNT spend years finding their faith, telling folks that they have to feel one way only in their body, and in their hearts.  The human person wasnt built to believe in Christ, with that being their end-goal, yet we have churches yammering that if you dont “accept Christ as your Savior”, you’re not saved and assured a place in heaven, or whatever the heck they say, effectively treating Christianity and faith, the same as they treat and view homosexuality.  I am too tired to think of an all-encompassing word to tie it all together, so I’ll leave that task to you.

Love, simply put, but floridly spoken

loveletter1Writing, and expressing our heart, our love to another.  Quiet and introspective, is the reality of it.  It’s something that I think we rarely see others doing, in its most intimate form.  This is why, I have chosen to share with you a letter of love I once wrote to a woman in my life. What’s lovely about this, is that this had nothing to do with upcoming St Valentine’s Day.  It was simply something that occurred to me.

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