A fantasy conversation

I talk to myself, it's true. More like I envision different scenarios and I just bring to it wherever I am at the moment. It's rather interesting, all in all. At least to me. But I have this fantasy of being seen as a "resource" by a small town where people get together in their churches and Elks clubs and the like to have community-wide discussions.

Sometimes I envision that I'm part of a "debate" which is really more a one-sided opportunity arranged by a devious, toxic-belief-addled preacher and his henchmen, where I'm sort of selected as a meat puppet to pound into the ground.

The thing is, the biggest question that I have to ask anyone who's a part of any community and cares about the people therein is, "Who has what you want?" And when I ask that question, I'm not talking about stuff--bigger cars, palatial houses, status, etc. I'm talking about who has peace of mind, who seems to rise to different occasions that might bring someone else to their knees, who brings a smile to your face. When I think about those people in my life, and there have been quite a few, I think to myself, "I want what they have." And then I do the things that they say they do to make their lives more spacious and joyful. I don't focus on what the "feared and hated other" is doing. They've already established that they don't have what I want. And I'm grateful to Pat Robertson and the other toxic-belief vampires (aka "cunts", using the process of metonymy where the part stands in for the whole, and referencing the onomatopoetic sound their fangs make upon insertion into skin--grunt: laborer as cunt:vampire) for acting as beacons of negativity, blaring out their message "Do not go here, there's nothing for you!"

I wouldn't necessarily point to myself as an exemplar for someone else to follow, though in the contrast with Reverend Cuntheart, I might offer a vision of some other possibility at least. In my fantasy I get people to dream a little about what they deeply want, which I think is what we all want.

HOME.

In part I'm having these thoughts because I feel "my best and brightest self" is pointing me toward trying to have this conversation with people. For me I like to turn to films to help point the direction. Thomas Bezucha, the director of The Family Stone which was in theaters here in Albany at least as of last week, directed a movie that I have watched eight or nine times, and have cried while viewing almost every time. Big Eden isn't the greatest film in the world, but it sparks that awareness of HOME. And I have a feeling it's probably one of the best conversation-starters out there for the lives we all wish we could lead. Big Eden shows me that others are dreaming the vision, and I can add my energy into that, to create a town such as Big Eden, Montana for real.

I have a strong sense that there's some movement afoot unbeknownst to me No Distrito Capital do Nova Iorque. (Excusame--Deseo falar o portugues, pro no tenho muita experiencia na lengua.) I'm here, and I"m clear and queer and I'm not going anywhere any time soon. But I want to be a part of that something larger that sweetly includes anyone who wishes to join and has the willingness to pick up whatever tasks need to be cultivated to safeguard, nourish, maintain and help a community to thrive.

So as this goes on, people can select themselves out for whatever pathway best meets their needs. And I'm afraid a lot of people are choosing their own deaths somehow. Perhaps I am too, I'm not sure. I often wonder, though a couple of my guides (Freyja, Odin and Hades, of all gods!), seem to indicate that I just might be surving whatever Ragnarok is heading our way.

Just something I thought I should post, all of a sudden. I also work with Hecate, goddess of witches and the crossroads. (I have a slightly different take on the goddess than goroadachi. She's a bit of a trickster, but she's also a vulnerable goddess. When that whole English circle thing broke, with the dead dogs etc., I thought to myself, "they're abusing the goddess, damn it." And she took leave of me to heal from the abusive actions of so-called worshippers. (Basically "Deity Rehab" if you can imagine.) Goddesses have to take care of themselves too.

Anyway, I had written this song many years ago. And I've retooled it and renamed it:

"Hecate's Prayer for the Common American" by The Disappearing Chef

[After a period of calling south*, then calling south passim]
There you lie, in tatters shredded by your vulture culture
Now I shall gather ye up, and stitch together a quilt

Could it be that you have gone too far?
You've gone clean right off that edge!
Centers have not held for such a long time now
You turn heads bravely toward
What you see down the road
Looming out in the distance
Hurricane forces of your concoction,
Our mindful furies, creating destruction
Mechanized monsters, pounding your spirits
into certain oblivion

Here o here, I'm standing next to you
At this cross roads: Whither your annihilation?
This white, white pained face
remembers you
I'm crying for you
I'm praying for you
Appreciating you
Smiling at you
Wondering which course you'll set yourselves now to take.
[Call south till end]

* "Calling south" is my name for a certain kind of snapping/body percussion I use when I sing certain songs I've written. It's kind of frustrating, but I doubt I'll be able to perform most of these songs except in small clubs and the like, if I ever get around to putting the stuff out there, which I'm kinda loath to do for some reason, and yes self-sabotage could be a part of it. Hecate for sure would love for this to get out there. Anyway, there ya go!