Tag: love

iii. Red Cherries and Black Licorice

There’s a pretty good saying in life about the past and the future. I’ve heard it both in Alcoholics Anonymous and Buddhist philosophy. When you dwell in the past, you receive depression and when you worry about the future, you create anxiety. The idea here is to discover inner peace and live gracefully in the present moment. If only it were that easy, we would all be living blissfully. To overcome the past, you must reconcile with the parts tearing you up inside. The problem with the future is created when you’re unhappy with your past and stuck on making it all better.  This whole process of grief and healing brought me to a place where I would never want to return. I am much better off where I’m at right now than I will ever be; it’s a fact!

For me, the worst agonizing type of anxiety I have ever experienced takes place when I develop feelings of intimacy for the opposite sex. It wasn’t always like this for me, but after many tragic events broke me down into nothing, I eventually became so damaged inside that I couldn’t experience desire as it was naturally intended. I don’t wish to relive those feelings because they are downright dehumanizing, but I’ll never forget it. Some of the longest nights of my life were spent back in that place, and I used drugs and alcohol to chase them away, but when I sobered up, I got smarter about it.

I told myself I would wait until one year of sobriety before I would even consider the idea of falling for a female. I knew how absolutely fragile I was and the thought of possibly dying over it scared me. This is really a sad thing, but I cannot fall in love or even contemplate opening up emotionally without suffering absolute anguish and despair. Something that was intended to be pure and beautiful in life is simply a curse to me.

When I first took notice of this spiritual thing guiding me towards a potential love in my waking life, I grew very nervous. I remember the very first time I texted her on messenger while in class. The moment after it happened, the fear set in. I felt pressured to do so in some way so it evolved regardless of my own instincts. This is the part of the Story where I bring another from the past into the picture. Her name was Amanda and she was 9 years younger than me.


I met Amanda at a 2nd shift job I had. She was a Grand Valley girl and was the first female to try and awaken my intimate side after the tragedy with my ex. There’s not really much needed to tell the story I want to tell, but it led to where I needed to be. I can still recall all the sleepless nights. I remember the agony like a knife stabbing into my neck. I lost months of sleep and the anxiety pushed me too far. She was just too young and I really hesitated a lot with her. I tried telling her I was broken, but she was persistent. Then when I finally let my guard down and opened up, it was too late. The whole thing was full of mixed messages, games and secrets. I never got any good answers from any of it.

How can I say it without saying it? That feeling nearly killed me. I still remember waking up feeling all concussed when I realized what I had done. I drank a pint of whiskey, maybe a fifth and a 12 pack of beer, then I chugged a bottle of NyQuil and went for a drive. I had nowhere to be and I was fucked up to the point of no return, and I knew it, but I just didn’t care. I took the back roads and was driving at a suicidal speed. I knew what could happen, but I didn’t care. When I woke up and discovered there wasn’t a scratch on me and saw how mangled the car was, it was like a sign from God. I still remember the dream about running from the police. The way the light bent in the dark from the headlights of the cars. It felt like the dance of immortality. The power and the strength I had, was unbelievable. Then to experience those exact same feelings in the middle of the night with K9’s and patrol cars scouting the area, well it was alarming.

Here’s the irony in it all. Two weeks before I rolled my car, I was sitting at my desk during break time at work telling Amanda about this exact dream. She gave me a very serious look and she said, “I don’t care what anyone says about this kinda stuff, but that MEANS something. You need to figure it out because someone’s trying to tell you something.”  Then a few days after our conversation, I fell asleep one night and had a dream about Amanda. I was chasing her in circles around a black truck, and she was laughing and just playing with me. Then I fell down and got hurt. A week later, she put a huge hole in my heart and I fucking totaled my car over it because I was emotionally incapable of dealing with these feelings. It was a reckless date with fate.


After a short duration with the feelings I had for Jasmine, it was like reliving the hell all over again. This time though, I had no booze or pot. I was pushing towards a total relapse, but something kept me from doing that. This time was different. Jasmine straight up hated me and she told me. Other than being really nice and kinda flirty this one time, she really went out of her way to express how much she completely detested me as a person. The things she said downright fucking offended me as a person, and not to mention, she had like no hesitance in just freaking laying it on me. She didn’t even feel bad. She didn’t even really know me as a person well enough to develop the comfort to say such things in that fashion, but she did it anyway. I may have troubled myself brutally trying to figure it out, but one thing was crystal clear: she felt completely comfortable with shoving me right off a cliff. She was judge, jury and executioner. Never in my 32 years of existence have I ever received such words from a female unless her and I were already sleeping together. It fucking blew my mind.

Anyway, there is nothing in the world that could ever makeup for the entire year of sleep I lost over Jasmine Bechtel. She fucked with my head on a whole new level. I would convince myself that I loved her one day, then tell myself I hated her the next. They say that the devil is in the details of all of this. It was a pretty cunning idea to sabotage the one person that was solemnly keeping it all together for me. I was shattered into a million broken ass little pieces. After enough time with brutalizing anxiety and terrorizing episodes of manic depression, your mind just ends up breaking down. I was so fucked up on the inside, that I ended up losing my job over it. I got laid off because I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t perform a simple task without forgetting what I was doing. I had people asking me constantly, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Brian, are you okay? Do you need to go home?”


Whew. Okay, now I just took a deep breath and thanked God that I’m here in the present. I will never go into the full black details of this shit stain in the confines of time simply because it makes me want to die.

The depression and the anxiety come with the setbacks regarding YOUR PATH IN LIFE. The anxiety occurs during the parts where you’re not progressing spiritually as a person, so the past just keeps haunting you as a reminder to go forth. Sometimes it feels easier just to do your own thing and tell yourself that your happy alone, but isolation is never the answer. There’s a million things that lead you astray and the further you wander off, the worse the anxiety becomes. I know because I had the anxiety over “my Princess”, for a solid year straight. It became very intrusive and interrupting of my life, and my will to commit suicide was never stronger than during this time in my life. It was like the Great Wall of China blocking my path. I was trapped and had nowhere to go.

The cure I needed to move forward was locked inside of me. Once I discovered it, I took some time to figure things out. The anxiety was still there though. Then one night I had a dream about the Grand Valley clock and it said 6:45pm. The following day, I see Jasmine at Meijer. I spend my time trying to put the pieces together, then about four days later I was pulling in to GV to go to AA, and it was like 6:30pm. I parked where I would see that clock and I just sat there. I had this text on my phone I was gonna send her and then I remembered the random fucking photos I posted on my old blog that previous weekend. I pulled up my phone, modified it a bit and pasted in my text message into the blog post. Then I heard the bells chime and I looked up at the clock and it said 6:45, so I sent the text and never looked back. I was so scared of what she might do that I literally turned my phone off for two hours.

That was 9 months ago…. and I have to say that I am fucking thankful. The anxiety fucking left me. I got a better job, and I got a raise and I’ve been doing the best work I’ve ever done. I’ve been moving forward as a person and moving towards being at peace in the moment. This all happened because I did what the dreams instructed me to do. I know for a fact if I had to go through that pitch black hellish anxiety for any more given time than I had already done, I would have just simply put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

I’m fucking alive because of a spiritual intervention, dude… so if you ever feel that darkness just creep into your life when you’re down, just fucking know it’s there to challenge you. It’s there to stop you from being happy. It wants to keep you in that place you’ve been dying to escape from. And it’s pretty fucking cunning. It will do anything to try and blame the darkness on someone else other than yourself. That’s how it defeats women, but as for men, it makes us blame ourselves. Wouldn’t that have been tragic?

There’s a reaper standing in between us. It blocks our path in life. It wants us to fail. It wants us to give up and hate each other and push the blame elsewhere, but the truth is that we BOTH made mistakes. Our mistakes in life is what makes us human, and our forgiveness of our mistakes is what makes us divine. Embrace the pressure of this message because you’re gonna need it if you ever want to leap forward into the moment that’s been created solemnly for us. I won’t let anyone in the world get in between us. And if I have to pray every night and beg and plead, I will. I will do so because I keep my promises and I don’t surrender to anything but the light. I know black licorice tastes like shit but sometimes you gotta eat a shit sandwich so you know what shit tastes like, that way when you bite into a sweet little cherry, you’ll actually appreciate the blessings you’ve received in life. Then you’ll know the difference between death and life. I say this only because you rejected the one person that will unconditionally love you for the rest of your life, whether in sickness and despair, grief and sorrow, alive or dead.



It took me a long time to write this post because I don’t really know how to put something like this into words. The scope of the spiritual implications in life is risky business. We live in a world where science and religion are combative with each other and they should be coinciding with one another. They go hand in hand. Psychology and spirituality could really be the same thing if you just read between the lines. The ancients used nature to depict character and foreshadow concepts of morality in a world that is constantly changing, but yet never evolving and that’s because nature itself always remains the same.

The book of Revelation delivers an entirely pure psychoanalysis to the reader, but the reader is not fully aware of this. The symbols and actions all depict a time of turmoil and a great conflict in the world around you. That is why I read the book of Revelation about 63 different times. My apocalypse has already happened inside of my mind. I learned the scope of my limitations. I accepted my poisons in life and I threw them away. It is “Good Fruit” that the Spirit is looking for. I saw these two cherries on a cherry tree and in front of them was a hand with scissors, preparing to cut them off. A pair of cherries like this must be ripening to become desirable enough to require delicacy before they are harvested. Just think about all the time and care that has gone into this, and how the moment when they are plucked will be done and over within the twinkle of an eye. Life is precious and life is short. Don’t take any of it for granted, Jasmine. Love is the only cure for life and you are my medicine.




ii. Gender Relapse

When I spell it out like that, it seems pretty bad. I had this strange dream thing awhile back when I saw myself looking girly and drinking a cocktail. I thought to myself, “there’s no way in fuck that’s gonna happen”. Little did I know, it was a metaphor about denying myself for who I am. A momentary denial of identity crisis. I suppose it’s a natural occurrence though, as I’ve read many gender confused people have had these episodes. I sure can relate to the whole going back and forth, but walking into Cabela’s with the intention to purchase a pair of a man’s man pants brought me down to a whole new level.

I was pissed off to begin with over the fact that my dad got me a Cabela’s gift card. How charade is that? It was a downright embarrassing experience for me. While walking around the store, I felt a staggering glare of red neck eyes gouging me out. “What is this fem little bitch doing here”, they thought among themselves. I felt pretty weird shopping there, like I was almost unwelcome. It was even more unsettling to actually get in line at the fitting room, which was right between the women’s and men’s clothing.

Once I got into the fitting room and actually slithered my way into the God-awful coarse and grainy textured atrocity known as men’s pants, it became quite apparent that this was a lost cause. I tore them off my legs like they were made out of molten lava and chucked them brutally into the huge pile of shit lying on the floor, then I walked my ass out of there and simply said, “fuck this shit, I’m going home”. The pants were so uncomfortable and they looked horrible on me. They felt so baggy and disgusting, I contemplated bringing them over to the camping section and soaking them with lighter fluid so I could burn them in the store.

This moment has honestly been building. I’ve become aware of the people around me, and I’ve also heard of what some people say behind my back. Fairy seems to be the most popular choice of words with people these days. I know a few people that call me that now. The first time my dad said it, I laughed it off and said “Awww thanks dad, fairies are sooo magical.” It’s just a bit upsetting when other people you’ve previously thought were cool with you, also use it. Either way, I’ve convinced myself as a man myself that that’s just what men do. They talk about women crudely as well, and I’ve listened to it all my life. Guys call people names because they’re guys, whatever. They are always being demeaning because it makes them feel more manly inside as they lack true security in their own nature.

Guy at work: “Oh hey Brian, are you gonna go to Forever 21 this weekend and shop for girl’s jeans”?

Me: “No, I don’t really care for the jeans there.

I always act as if it’s a normal conversation for me, and I’ve started to notice that the strategy works. They say shit like this because they want me to get emotional about it and overreact, so I’ve become a thief of thunder.

Boss at work: “Don’t only women typically get their nose pierced, Brian?”

Me: “Tupac Shakur…. Lenny Kravitz”

Boss: “Say no more.”

Oh and my favorite is when I walked into the break room after lunch, and some fat douche bag mumbles out, “Here she comes!”

That pissed me off enough to pretty much delete my facebook account entirely. I know fucking people look each other up on that shit, so I’m done with it now.

What’s not cool is when someone you don’t even know starts shit. It was my like my 2nd day of class for Electrical 05, and this guy and his buddy kept using the word “faggot”. They kept talking about this faggot like non-stop and it was pretty obvious, childish and super annoying as well. Every goddamn time they talked about something, they would use the word faggot. I turned right around after awhile and just stared at him hard and cold for like a solid minute. After that, he stopped using the word faggot.

So um ya, I had this dream last night about a Goose taking shelter in its tent, then someone came in and hit it in the neck with a golf club. I felt this huge wave of emotion over it, and I started crying. I went out into the woods looking for it, and after some searching, I was relieved to find it. It was hurt, but it didn’t die. It got away with a wound. Honestly, that about sums it for me too. This shit fucking hurts. I’m not sure whether I’m just gonna run and hide or come back in full force and become the Greatest Magical Fairy to fly high over these black shit-headed clouds that seem to be all over the fucking place.

I guess I am just a fucking gay goose with a broken neck cuz I wear chic jeans and don’t fuck girls because they hate me. Goddamit, that sounds a like a horrible life. Fuck, I wouldn’t wish it upon my own worst enemy. I already suffer 24/7, so why do people gotta re-stab open my old wounds over and over again??????

iii. Enter the Midnight Queen

The clock struck quarter to, and the bells chimed. A nerve struck my heart and I knew the Time was near. We can’t be late and we cannot fuck this up. Every single last piece needs to come together so the puzzle may be complete. There are things that need to be addressed and mysteries that need solving. There are questions that need answers and doors that need opened. Will you find the right key to open it, or get lost in the fuzzy haze of pumpkin patches along the way?

Velvet Crushin’ Duster Coat
Stars In Your Eyes Body-Stocking
Midnight Queen Pin-Studded Heels

Remember Cinderella’s hot ass slippers? She’ll be wearing them at midnight with stars around her body and her toes pressing the metal. There is no way in hell I’m going to be a fag anymore, and Sleeping Beauty knows just how to solve Cinderella’s little problem. It’ll be the sweetest party of them all, but first thing’s first. She needs to wake the fuck up, and I have the perfect solution for that. It’s a little something called a Spiritual Awakening. Something like this seems pretty epic, so I changed my mind about the shoes at the last minute. I’m going to put on a dress, tights and heels, then take some hot ass photos. After all, this is pretty goddamn important being that it’s the first photo shoot of the same year that a Princess enters her passage into becoming a Queen.

2018 <– LOOK UP, doll face 🙂Unless of course, you just don’t have the balls.
^^This chic’s got balls. What’s your excuse, honey?


Nocturnal Life

Wearing women’s clothing is like having a whole new set of eyes. Just by doing it, it opens up the door to an entirely different world. Women touch my hand all the time when I’m buying stuff at a store, but now I’ve had a couple guys literally put their whole hand in mine, which is fine by me. It makes me feel wanted and I suppose I can appreciate the gesture. I also been wearing low cut socks and when I got out of my truck at the home depot today, I saw this lady check out my ankles. She had really short hair and I think she might have been a lesbian, but I liked it. Nothing tops the Gothic girl though. She looked at me rather intimately, like a gaze with the wow factor of a subtle sunset. Honestly, I don’t know how else to express it. I had on some dark pants with bronze studs and women’s shoes along with one of my new screen printed tee’s that is uniquely me. I would’ve liked to talk to her, but I can’t. I have a head full of bad experiences and nothing that is encouraging is in there.

I’ve never made a move on a girl before. All my ex’s seduced me. My first love was sad and heart broken, so I put my arm around her and she kissed me. The next day she took my virginity, and after that I saw her once more, then she blocked me out of her life. Randomly like a year later, she came back and had this new boyfriend and wanted to be friends and stuff. It struck me as odd, and it was. She ended up driving me out into the woods late one night where three of her guy friends were waiting to rob me for a bottle of oxycontin. They came out in black ski masks and with guns and made me get on my knees and stuff. I’ll definitely never forget her. She steals my fucking virginity, then tries to steal my goddamn drugs. I say try because I hid that shit good.

Between my first love and my last, I got fucked pretty good and hard. There’s nothing like waiting for 9 months expecting to be a dad and then suddenly, you’re not. I watched him come into this world and I even gave him a name. I chose to call him Noah. I think the shock of it all never really hit me until a couple years later, and then I pretty much just cried myself to sleep for two solid years straight. The day I picked up drinking was the worst decision I ever made. Instead of crying myself to sleep, I would just get so drunk I would black out. It’s hard to come out of something like that and just dive into the sober consequences of reality, but it was by far the best choice I ever made in my life. With all the blinders removed, my eyes are completely open. I’m simply a woman trapped in a man’s body and expressing it openly is the only path I can take if I want to live a functional life and share it intimately with Super Girl.

This is why an owl can see in the dark. When the future is out of reach, it’s time to delve into the past. All the things not sitting right within became settled, and then I saw my innermost reflection. It was the most beautiful moment in my life, yet I had to look the devil in the eye and decipher through all the lies; then the truth came out.

The person I am has become, and it’s someone who I can live with, honestly. In my search for all the answers I was looking for, I found all the pieces needed. The troubles of my life are over, and it’s time for new troubles to begin. It’s the end of chapter six in my life because I feel like the next will bring me happiness.

Optimism in pure darkness doesn’t fool an owl because the owl lives in darkness, but there will always be a place called home to fly to; and whatever she sees at night will find her. Who are we looking for? The answer is within ourselves. Digging deep only requires pressure and time.

Light the lonely forest with rainbows glowing in the dark, after all that’s really what life is all about.

, black nail polish,


Seriously though, I know how to rock a fucken pair of fishnet stockings.