The book of G.

It was an ordinary damp day. The floors my bare feet touched were cold as well. I had just back from a pedicure. My pedicurist was also my neighbor. She was warm, friendly, and inviting. Her calming nature helped me relax throughout my time with her. I don't know lately I feel perplexed. I feel transparent and everyone can read me. I don't feel paranoid.

At first this made me paralyzed. Like an invasion of privacy. And much like the clear polish on my toes I've become absolutely transparent.

First, I have an oaf of a friend who thinks she needs to tell me every little thing to be honest to prove she loves me. I don't care to hear and wish she'd stop. Or that I want to be pimped to one of her relatives. I wish she and they would go away right about now. Then I have a crazy loon of a friend who thinks life is a TV show. A mix of Queer As Folk and Sex and The City. Another who thinks life is Some Like It Hot and vacation is the answer. And other who think I need distractions of love match making when I'd rather be left alone. There are few who think performing drag is the answer.

I wish they would all leave and leave me be.

What am I to do with a community of jerks?

That assume they have the solution for you.

It's insulting as if I'd ever waste my time on any one of them when I need to save myself from what I'm battling and set goals for myself to achieve what I must have to live and survive, or to thrive and/or live comfortably.

Now, I understand why everyone makes a big deal of things. I suffer gender identity disorder. Gender confusion. I'm not a cross dresser or transvestite. I derive no pleasure from wearing the opposite gender's clothes.

I just get giddy. It tickles me. I feel pretty.

Whether I am or not is neither here nor there.

But nonetheless I nickname myself a goddess. And sometimes a god when I'm feeling myself in my birth gender.

I have never felt lonely or alone. And I have never viewed a relationship as the cure or remedy to a broken spirit or heart.

I prefer bring single. And I believe in self love.

That's where good love begins. Then is to your family. Then is to non toxic friends. And then is who ever you, yourself, meet and get to know and love. I'm truly not desperate.

I'm a kind, creative, old soul that puts one foot infront of the other. My friendly, loud, foward, friendly demeanor usually works well to my advantage. I make friends easily. I meet new people easily. And I don't have too many regrets. I do regret somethings ofcourse.

Like being self centered... Delusional at times.

Drunk within my own work. My own cruelty...

Yeah, I do regret it. But what do I do to make these people just stop bothering me. I pray they go away. I push them away. I do everything I can. I'm not judgemental, or bitter or sour grapping over lost love. I'm not posing in all costumed and get ups and war paint for my own health. I had something to prove.

But all these desperate loser birches want to live life vicariously through me; as me. Pose as me. Live my life for me. Pathetic. I wish they would just get a life of their own and leave me alone.

I pray constantly for this? When will they go away? I have never cared for fame, or accolades. I have a feeling to sing and write and dance. And do things that nurture my soul, and go out and have fun. But why do I need an audience. I don't live life for you or them. I'm not gonna kill myself. I suggest you kill yourself. Nobody wants your ass. 

Go away. And don't come back another day.

Fuck Off. And thus is my life. A Hello hi there.

And I love you and a Fuck You! Bye- toodles.