Get it dyke done

lanyard lesbian in retirement

As voices fall away

The voices i hear are from memory. The people known, but gone from me. I had a happy childhood, which did not prepare me for a world in which most do not. Nor did it reflect real adulthood. The people gone from me, and i can no longer dwell in memories, or regret of what has been lost. All the social connections that once defined me. To move forward, because there is no one to help, i have to put aside the voices that did not support or in silence hurt.

Memories of spring

It was August last year we met. late summer. I was in Winter, She a spring breeze scented with a promise of summer. A May December online relationship that lasted from fall, over winter and ended as abrupt as a spring breeze. Eight glorious months if being reminded what butch and femme truly is, and how best to use, a brooding butch lap to catch a femme, online or in person, eh.

Unpacking 201

It is less about what I have lost and more a discovery of what was not taken from me. What is left from who I was. Artifacts of a life that I am disconnected from. No longer that person, but sorting the stuff from that life, from lifetimes ago it seems. What to keep as much as deciding where to place, and of what is now gone, what to replace. Life is analog but editable. And it is better to live forwards than back. But remember said history, #LestWeForget

A sinking feeling

This morning, it happened. The kitchen sink overflowed. Towels to the floor and bailing out the sink with my oversize coffee mug. The mess mopped, time for brunch and flopping on the couch until the plumber shows, eh.

Calm down eh

Twelve dollars for a latte and croissant, that I had to repeat my order four times to the clerk with a cold touching his nose and sniffling, eh. Dear coffee clerk, be efficient and customers will remain calm. Cafe argianto, that was my last time in any of your caf├ęs.