Friday, March 05, 2010

A part of something

It’s when I travel that I feel connected to something called queer. Here I feel so exhausted by the limitations of every option I’ve glimpsed, and I don’t have the energy to create what I really want. That’s what I want: that energy.

When I start to think about leaving, I think about other options. Even glancing at craigslist Santa Fe, and there are all these posts about how horrible the sex shop employees treat the fags who cruise there, and then I think maybe I should post about creating our own space, even if I’m not there I could post to see what people say, right? Oh, wait -- people are already posting about wanting to get the place shut down, although the person posting the most often talks about trying to get it shut down by the health department, relying on that old homophobic tactic to challenge homophobia. But what do I know? I’m not there yet.

I want to feel like I’m a part of something again, something I feel every day. I don’t know if that will happen in Santa Fe, or wherever I decide to move, but I know that I need to move in order to find out. When I have energy, I get excited about moving. But I rarely have energy, I mean it comes and goes so fast, for a few minutes on the fire escape I’m flying, but then I come inside and it’s all pain tucked behind eyes closing into crash.

I know I felt more energy in the past, but it’s not like there was a time when I felt great. But there was a time when everything didn’t feel so draining, right? I’m sinking further into the permanence of exhaustion surrounding me, I know I’m sinking and I’m trying to pull myself out.

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