The Full Story
I have a gender. Some people don’t, I do. Mine is messy. Just use male pronouns and don’t ask questions. Unless we’re fucking, or about to, or drinking together somewhere with stars or cigarette smoke. No rain, though. I thought rain was poetic until I moved to Washington state.
We are unlikely to be fucking. I used to be poly but I don’t like people that much anymore. I focus on my family, and I’m sorry if that made your heart stop- it made mine stop, too- but the right hanging nuts don’t get to claim families. Particularly mine.
I am queer. I am trans, if you didn’t catch that already. So is my partner. So is my kid. We lived in Georgia. Whoops. We put our kid in public school in Georgia. Whoops. Bad things happened. We ran for our lives.
Route 66 is a good route to take when running for one’s life. Stop in Tucumcari, at the Blue Swallow Motel. Do NOT stop in Texas, even to urinate. Piss in a cup instead, keep going.
We moved first to a Collective. Then to shelter One. Then to shelter Two. We now live in subsidized housing in some place called Tumwater. Tumwater.
This is my blog. I am a writer. I write to connect. Hello.