Superstorm

"Oh, love me tonight, for I may never see you again"  
  Bruce Springsteen  4th of July Asbury Park

I walked the beach last week, the north end of Brigantine Island, a beach that I love literally or is that litorally.  My first time since Sandy and a place to fully realize her power.   The storm itself passed right over my home. But being a distance from the ocean, well nestled near the back bay,   I didn't see Sandy in her full fury.  But this beach (and many places north of here) is where She made vacuum of our cherished illusions of permanence.  The beach has changed.  Twice as large at low tide , and I imagine twice as small at high tide.  The line between the thick underbrush of dune grass, cockles, goldenrod, thorny vines and the beach erased, The marshes are sand covered, and the beaches are denuded.   And with that, things once hidden are revealed.  There is a familiar piece of the beach with some pilings which are obviously the ruins of a dock.  Now as the picture above shows,  other more elaborate structures long sleeping under the sand are revealed.  And of course one island further north, long beach island.  Structures that once stood in daylight, are shorn, and what remains buried beneath sand.
In a night, what was is no more, and what was no more is.   And we are surprised, aghast at the gentle billows turned savage, and so much of what we called ours, swept away by an indifferent hand.  What once moved is stilled, and all is movement that we thought stillness.   Still we makes our plans, and build our castles, forgetting that they will be toppled, and we will be stilled,.  Everything we do, everyplace we go, everyone we love, everything we are will disappear.  And so those forgotten ruins, provide a kind of solace, the forgotten will return.  Either that or embrace the oblivion.
Officially, I do the latter, well read in the Upanishads.  And yet as it approaches, I furiously exercise body and mind, assembling bucket lists, and arranging play dates.  There is little to be gained by denying what is evident from the first blink in the morning to the final blink at night.  I work assiduously on the castle.  Here is the room where I study sanskrit, and here is the room where I struggle to understand algebra and physics... (Has that sand just become too dry to bolster those walls?)  And of course the top floor is completely given over to walk in closets, and make up tables, and perhaps a few too many mirrors.  Gotta get that castle done!  So I can get a nice look from a high tower at approaching seas.

i wish i were in love again

Or do i?

In recent times, I have taken up a number of relationships in the context of being trans, and particularly in the context of being kinky trans. So at the current time, I belong to a poly family which means I am submissive to a dominant lady, and a dominant Tgirl. These are sort of casual relationships, which involve sex in the form of play. I should like to talk about poly, in the coming weeks since poly is very interesting, and in polyland polypeople have a whole lot of different ideas about love. Related to the poly is the sissygurl that i introduced into the family. Now she is someone that i have more of a traditional relationship with, if your idea of traditional is a bunch of boys who act like girls. That is a relationship worthy of a posting as well, so I will do that in the weeks to come as well. It is my second such relationship, and having a boyfriend, even if the boy is a trans, is something that i still have some trouble understanding, because i was never gay, and hardly bi, and now in my dotage, I haven't had a girlfriend in a while, and I have slept with a number of gurlz, who i tend to enjoy the way girls enjoy boys. Well if i say anymore, i will blush! so i will save that for a later entry. Finally, i have a bit of a vanilla relationship with a woman who i recently went on vacation with, and what is it that is so familiar? Oh right, she is my ex-wife, and I live with her! but recently we have been moving towards trying out some sexual play which we have avoided, but that is for later too.

The key is that none of these relationships is the sense of the song.

There are no sleepless nights, no endless fights, though perhaps the faint aroma of performing seals at times.

so i realize in deep in my poor bruised psyche, i wish i were a girl of an earlier generation, a femme frilly girl when it wasn't a retro choice, or a pastime. and if i were, a girl of my mother's generation, then surely i would love to hear Frank Sinatra sing I Wish I Were in Love Again.

But there is wisdom seeing the young lovers, chasing shadows, chasing tail, chasing their own tails, it is easy to feel sorry for them. I have wisdom, and know the limitations of earthly desire, or am i simply old. and did i mention that one of my relationships is with one of those poor young shadow chasers?

The Hanged Man

Doomed. It is not an idea we embrace too much, but if you saw the Bills / Patriots game, and you have been a Buffalo Bills fan far too long to shrug it off, then you know what I mean.
Doomed When it is fate and it is fucked.
But it isn't justice because you don't have any particular idea that hubris was at work. It might be karma of course, but since it is collective, and the collective karma is visited upon a group of individuals who just got there, then justice is a stretch.
Doomed, and the Bills most certainly are, then so it is, but the Bills are nothing but a collection of innocents who receive their beating, and then move on.
Doomed And isn't all human effort essentially the same.
Doomed The wall against which the head is beaten, the savage god, who declares that as it has always been, the strong and the ruthless will thrive.

If this keeps up, I am going to give up these boyish tendencies for good.