before we knew it he was in bed with the vicar
Two posts one night; the power of cider.
Feeling a bit odd tonight, ever feel that this whole wearing womens clothes thing has some sort of meaning? Not sure I can explain this, but a lot of the time I feel like theres some significance to this that I just can't nail down, like when you forget a word and it's dancing across your subconscious but you can't grasp it. I often feel that way looking at my pics and friends pics, it's like there this hidden meaning there that I'm just not clever enough to work out. It's like the sometimes group, I can't help feeling when I look at the pictures theres something bigger there than a bunch of blokes with their shirts off but I can't fathom it.
I am a very spiritual person, I believe in being the best I can be, challenging myself, finding out who I am, no I'm explaining that badly, lets explain by example. A few years ago I organised a trip to a bungee jump, for me it was a test, no one can ever know if they would do that until you are standing 200 feet above the ground leaning into thin air, can I swallow the fear and let go or will I back down - I had to know. I'm reading a diving book just now 'Shadow Divers' theres a chapter on the bio of one of the divers, he went to vietnam as a medic, he volunteered to go on patrol (this in itself was exceptional) the old hands were dismissive of the newbie, didn't even know his name. On patrol one of the old hands was cut down by gunfire and left alive in a clearing, the viet-cong wouldn't kill him, they want someone to try to save him so they can get two kills. To quote the newbie
he went out, treated the soldier and dragged him back to safety; stirring stuff, thats what life is to me, I need to find out if I am someone I can be proud of, I can't help but feel the tranny thing is a step along this path. I have a fantasy; I want to be faced with a choice between the death of my principles and the death of my body, then I'll find out 'who I am' of course ideally I'd make the right choice and then something amazing happens and I get to live but you get the idea.
I'd like to stand on a bridge in a frilly shirt sword in hand defending a condemned woman and swearing to kill the first man to lay a hand upon her. I want to be the second man to say "I'm Spartacus", I want to do a 'far far better thing'. Sometimes I think I was born too late, my heros and heroines belong to another age, Shackleton, Bader, Bigglesworth, Johnny Johnson, Violet Szabo, Richard Burton (no not that one), Wilfred Thesiger
----------
The life that I have is all that I have,
And the life that I have is yours.
The love that I have of the life that I have,
Is yours and yours and yours.
The sleep I shall have, a rest I shall have,
Yet death will be but a pause.
For the peace of my years in the long green grass,
Will be yours and yours and yours.
- Leo Marx
Feeling a bit odd tonight, ever feel that this whole wearing womens clothes thing has some sort of meaning? Not sure I can explain this, but a lot of the time I feel like theres some significance to this that I just can't nail down, like when you forget a word and it's dancing across your subconscious but you can't grasp it. I often feel that way looking at my pics and friends pics, it's like there this hidden meaning there that I'm just not clever enough to work out. It's like the sometimes group, I can't help feeling when I look at the pictures theres something bigger there than a bunch of blokes with their shirts off but I can't fathom it.
I am a very spiritual person, I believe in being the best I can be, challenging myself, finding out who I am, no I'm explaining that badly, lets explain by example. A few years ago I organised a trip to a bungee jump, for me it was a test, no one can ever know if they would do that until you are standing 200 feet above the ground leaning into thin air, can I swallow the fear and let go or will I back down - I had to know. I'm reading a diving book just now 'Shadow Divers' theres a chapter on the bio of one of the divers, he went to vietnam as a medic, he volunteered to go on patrol (this in itself was exceptional) the old hands were dismissive of the newbie, didn't even know his name. On patrol one of the old hands was cut down by gunfire and left alive in a clearing, the viet-cong wouldn't kill him, they want someone to try to save him so they can get two kills. To quote the newbie
'This is when I find out who I am'
he went out, treated the soldier and dragged him back to safety; stirring stuff, thats what life is to me, I need to find out if I am someone I can be proud of, I can't help but feel the tranny thing is a step along this path. I have a fantasy; I want to be faced with a choice between the death of my principles and the death of my body, then I'll find out 'who I am' of course ideally I'd make the right choice and then something amazing happens and I get to live but you get the idea.
I'd like to stand on a bridge in a frilly shirt sword in hand defending a condemned woman and swearing to kill the first man to lay a hand upon her. I want to be the second man to say "I'm Spartacus", I want to do a 'far far better thing'. Sometimes I think I was born too late, my heros and heroines belong to another age, Shackleton, Bader, Bigglesworth, Johnny Johnson, Violet Szabo, Richard Burton (no not that one), Wilfred Thesiger
----------
The life that I have is all that I have,
And the life that I have is yours.
The love that I have of the life that I have,
Is yours and yours and yours.
The sleep I shall have, a rest I shall have,
Yet death will be but a pause.
For the peace of my years in the long green grass,
Will be yours and yours and yours.
- Leo Marx
posted by Gillian at 11:15 PM
3 Comments:
Yes, I can understand that. Trying to find meaning in the movements of the abstract, if you see what I mean?
I've been on that bridge, with a sword in my hand, once or twice. My dilema is in knowing when I can make a difference, and recognising when I can't. Not that it'll stop me from trying, anyway. I'm still inspired by the grand romantic gesture, but the grubbiness and pain of the real world do tend to keep me grounded. The "beautiful" one has anorexia, "Flower" has chronic depression: the odds against me, in this fight, seem overwhelming. It's a good job that I can still remember my fencing lessons...
I can see where you are coming from. I often look at my life and wonder "what have I achieved" and most often can't think of anything.
Am I that useless?
Sorry girls, I view life differently. It seems to me that a lot of time and energy is given up to such thought and consideration. Sure, we would all like to be heros, I can appreciate that. The reality however is a little different and such effort I find potentially depressing. I'd much rather be happy and successful each and every day.
Granted, one of you, one of the millions of you trying to solve life's mysteries might eventually find the answer and mankind will benefit, I'm neither leader nor follower, I do my own thing and I enjoy success and happiness, each and every day.
Girls, choose to be happy.
Becky
xx
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