Shock, shock meeeee. You shock, shocked me. Thank you. Thrill of said shake-up is new. Definitely. Totally. The kind of newness and goodness that requires questioning of previously held notions of what you thought you knew nothing about. The time for linguistical challenges is now. Wheels keep on spinning within me, this life, such encounters. Each introduces me to the yes, no, and maybes of this ever-expanding list of guidelines. Pro-woman. Truly. You must be JUST that if relations desired. All women deserve to be taken out and wear pretty dresses, yeah? Rock on, JC...and also pants, if desired and/or preferred....in that same way I dream of the space for men in tights and the like. Is the associated violence due to predicted sexual orientation or gender non-performativity? You tell me, bashers. Anyone who properly identifies the term cisgender also qualifies. Argh....be still this damaged, but eager aorta. If anyone was ever a sucker for a kind feminist word, it was me. On repeat. Every time. Shock me. Wait...you already did that times a zillion or so.
Check on some rad jams.
"What's your name?"Over and over and over again. It's not Jennifer or June or Mellany OR...fish. My patience is severely lacking and she is frantic and confused as ever. Crying and pouting....like the aged of four. Off I go...to forget a bit, develop a bit, learn a bit, and cope a bit. As needed. Yes, I bloom later and later every year. I am precious, like a flower. And you? A bee.
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