Who Speaks for us?

Who speaks for the homeless, the addict the poorest and the mentally ill? Who here knows what we face daily from an increasingly hostile and demeaning population? Certainly not those who have acceptance, love and resources to a better life. Those who can’t or won’t see and understand will never accept us as part of their family. We are only be seen as a burden, a blight and a mob that needs to be cleaned out, imprisoned and controlled. We are required to fit into your narrow view of society and behavior that promotes your lifestyle and nothing else. Our needs and wants ignored as nothing more than the needs and views of a sick, disturbed population. We are only accepted if we give up our own values, ourselves and our dreams and only then when we are no longer who we are then we are accepted. We know the pain of rejection and in our pain and even our fears of this rejection are seen as being a sick mind set. Our intelligence used against us because how could we be anything more than how we are seen? Our gifts and creativity ignored because it doesn’t serve the marketable values of the narrow social view of profitability. We watch as those narrow views of acceptable behavior become more and more narrow and those at the end of this spectrum crumble off into oblivion. The Elderly, the cripples and disabled and even the students who’s families cannot support them fall into the crevices. Is it no wonder when facing world that cannot accept us because we don’t have the means to fin in we need to dull the pain. When we strive to better ourselves we are then judged by our place in this world we have no say on that we turn to some way to feel good. Why would we care and do our best when that labor has no value to you. No you’ll never see it because you’ve been told and educated that we are not to be trusted and even feared. Why is it inconceivable that we feel the same way towards your social view? That we can never trust because we are told in the open we are human garbage and a waste. No one speaks for us because they dare not see us. For that would prove their vales as the truly broken ones.




Today in a few hours I’m getting an Orchiectomy. That is where they remove My testicles. It’s a simple procedure but there’s always a risk. I could die. It’s not likely and probably very remote chance but a chance of it nevertheless. If that happens I want my son to have all my things what little there is of them.

So why go through it? Because I’m a woman and testicles tend to make testosterone and my mind doesn’t do well with that hormone. I believe it even causes me mood problems to the point it looks like bipolar. The medication needed to remove testosterone is called Spiroxlactose and it has its own negative effects on my body and mind including possible kidney failure and extreme mood changes. I could wait and continue with spiro and hope for the best until I get a Vaginoplasty but that could take years and I don’t want to risk it. I also have cysts on my testicles that cause pain and there’s a risk of cancer if I ignore them so all in all it’s probably best I get this done. Let’s hope I do well with the surgery.

My Dysphoric Days

Today and the last few days my Dysphoria has been pretty savage. I don’t understand why other than my body has acclimated to Spironolactone. I feel toxic. My kidneys hurt (often confused as lower back pain) and I’m pissing brown. The testicles I have returned to their original size, my sweat smells male and I’m feeling like I have a twisted like mania and not getting much sleep. I told my clinic but since I’m getting an orchiectomy soon most of those symptoms should go when those testicles go. Here’s hoping time passes quickly.

When I turn on the Internet.

It’s like my brain shuts down some key components. Things I need to self regulate some key creative needs. It becomes why bother recording my music? Too much work, plus no one will be in a band with me anyway. It’s not that I’m not productive, but my creativity kind of turns off. Sometimes that’s a good thing like when I’m feeling anxious but then I stay there. It’s safe, anonymous and the worst thing that could happen it you have to make a new email account so you can get back with your friends in social media after you got your ass banned for being a total dick to someone. Let’s hope it’s the right someone’s otherwise you’re being a dick to me and that’s when I turn on the Internet.

The biggest hate

In my transitioning my body to female I’ve also dug deep into who I am Inside to me. What I believed about who I was and what was real. You see I hated myself but that’s too simple. I was trained to hate myself. And I was an exceptional student. What I believed and what was true about me are quite different. I believed I could do nothing right. That I was unliked and unwanted. That I was bad because I existed. I learned to expect nothing, no matter how hard I tried to earn it. Of course the opposite is true. I didn’t even see it. That I’m a caring loving single parent of a child who is in college and doing well that loves me back. Friends who have always thought of me as one of the sweetest loving and giving person they’ve known. And volumes of songs, stories and poems. But I had thought of me as the monster. None of that mattered. My biggest hate was me.

I haven’t written in a while.

Not like anyone is missing my writing as I only see 4 visits to my site in a month. Which is to say I’m not really promoting it or really caring if I get visitors.

I personally don’t think what I write is all that profound or new or even a new way to say something. So why worry about it?

It’s not like I’ve never tried to get people to connect and help find readers who might like what I write. Most if not all except maybe two people will ignore anything I put up on Facebook and if I send them a link they will boldly lie to my face when the visit counter hasn’t registered a single visitor, return or original. WordPress is good at keeping track.

My take on it is they think I’m mentally ill. Don’t humor or even listen to the mentally ill you might catch it. But what if they are wrong and by ignoring the problem…. well you know what happens with that… or do you?

I have stories to tell. Experiences that are real and profound even if my words aren’t.

Jade Blackthorne

The dark and light of it.

There are here, fearsome men
Driven and bent to destroy us all
For they are not angels deployed by God
And they bring fear to oust our loving care

Darkness hides the path we have found
Chaos reigns and pain abounds
Sweet smell of hate deludes and compels
Many are trapped forever in this spell

I close my eyes and follow faith
Not men nor thought or page
Soft delicate fingers pull at me
To distract my soul and lose my path

I close my eyes breathing deep and long
A longs ways to go though I shall not fall
from that darken path that I am on
I obscure myself from those who do me harm

Silence needs to be broken
The voices heard And evil deeds undone
Then we start exploring
All the wonderful things deep inside, each of us

To bloom and see, to be truly be free
To be all of me whole and well
To find the heaven locked inside
To escape this living hell

I speak and I am not heard
Unspoken I am not seen
Invisible searching for my dream
Lost in a void no one hears me scream.

The journey has begun the to escape the darkness
I see the light as I climb, a journey for hero’s denied
A quest to be the absolute me and not that label as I’m seen
Only then my light will shine. Only then my light will shine.