Monday, August 17, 2015

Resonance: Confusion! Through the Tunnel

"Last night I was discussing with my significant other how I

 don’t really remember the days before 
the confusion

Or even during the confusion

Clearly through confusion I have been. 

However, once you know something, you can’t un-know it.

 So my pre-trans-knowledge days are fuzzy. 

My pre-asexual days are long long gone, seeming so 

childish, like a youthful memory where one was barely 

gaining consciousness of the world. You don’t remember

 anything of the times before you could remember 

something (your pre-conscious days). Every time I make a 

discovery, it’s like a re-birth. Every conclusion makes me 

gain consciousness of something while crippling my memory 

of pre-conscious days, as if those memories had never 

formed in the first place." 

-Micah, of Neutrois Nonsense

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Feeling It

"Richard Tarnas, for example, sees this time as

 one where humans are growing out of a 

spiritual adolescence (matriarchy and 

patriarchy) and into a more mature and 

direct relationship with their own 



creative capacities."

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Bodies, bODIES

Now I'm a faggot. 

The journey I've taken in the last five years, the words that have exploded from the mouths of young "male" bodies at me, attached to some broken semblance of sick masculinity. Now I am a faggot.

I was once a dyke. Or, more often, a bitch. Now I am a faggot.

In any instance, I am a body. As much as I want to leave this body, here I am. Present and holding space for those-who-deem-me-faggot's sadness.

These are young bodies, deemed exclusively male-sexed by a limited modern scientific standard. Accepted wholly by most. Unaware of divine vessel diversity. These are called Bio males, cis males. Males. Not Fe-males. Not lesser than, lesser though. From the Rib of broken promises. The double edged sword stuck in its own rock. ( and then there's Queer; I mean Here, we are whatever we want to be.)

Let me paint the young bodies for you:

Testosterone-heavy white faces, pink flesh still so smooth from youth, small eyes crippled, small pits, crushed in a state of self confusion and malcontentedness, wrapped in baggy clothes found in the "Young Men's" department. Small but wanting some false big.
They are Off kilter, born into and abandoned emotionally and spiritually by structures inside but beyond their guardians' houses or their neighborhoods' rules. They are called Young Man from a walking age. They become, secretly and loudly, Abandoned Men.

They yell towards me, in my direction. They do not recognize my masculinity. They sense it, take my two spirited balancing energy, Strong Warrior I am, and always next I feel the pain of the imprisonment of their abandonment. They hurt inside, repelled by their own sickness. They once called me Bitch, Dyke, and today, they call me Faggot.

I see that as a parameter of my growth. I went from Sleeping Boy to Genderqueer Invisible to now Young Warrior Man.

Bodies, bodies.

I do not claim or cling to labels, as loud and compulsive as I whisper again and again, them. These clunky rusted words are for you to understand my body's changes, and my positionality within identity politics. I am a man, a male body born into what appears a XX chromosomal body.

I am not female.

Not female to male.

I'm not going TO anything.

Here I am.
Always have been.
My soul and heart and body are Renaissance masculine of center. And I take some minor adjustments, to be  recognized essentially, for my essence.

To fall back into place, my place, my body.

The needle rewrites the frays of my pained and wounded walking.

The sharpness is so I may become soft; the humble instruments are those I dropped so many years ago.

Bodies, bodies. My body. My male always body. My true aeon body. Beyond male body or female body. True body.

My body is a real and true body.

My body is the Neux body.

And one day it will all be seen and recognized and touched for its truth.


Marval The Sea Rex

Friday, May 15, 2015

The 48th Hexagram: The Well

The Well, Becoming Pure:

Like the well, human nature is the same around the world. The passage of time cannot add to its essential dimensions, nor take anything away. Still, just as a well can be deepened to produce clearer, cleaner water, so can we enrich our lives by delving deeply into our essential natures to reach the source of true nourishment.

Beware of shallow thinking; like a little learning, it can be dangerous. The image of the well suggests that going deeper within produces clarity. Be patient, and penetrate both your problems and your own nature to the core. Self-development is key to reaching the deep, clear waters. If you do not lower your bucket to the depths, you’re likely to come up empty.

When greater depth is desired, a lessening of speed is often required.

For me, Marval Rex, that is what I call myself, or a mixture of myself and the other, always... For me, the Well comes at a time where I am ready to be myself. Be true design. I have not a defined Gi or Self energy, but what I mean is to be authentic to my design and to swallowing and illuminating my shadow energies so that they may become Gifts and Siddhis. To being Clear. Thanks Ron Hubbard. 

I want to be good, for myself now. Not so that I may evade punishment, as has been the case before. I wanted to be good for others, for external rewards. Now, through trial and error I have reached awareness that this is not working for me, that I am destined for clarity and Greatness within clarity. 
For myself I wish to be clear waters, good clear waters. No lying or stealing or murky waters where I get lost or disillusioned. I recognize that from within me comes great disillusionment, because it is a lack of awareness of my romantic disposition, my romantic and thought-must-become-deeds design.

My brain can no longer run this holy vessel. It is like a toddler with a loaded gun. Dangerous and powerful, volatile too. My design is so sexy and so powerful, 5th line to boot, and I must ground myself inside my body-- where all of the wisdom sits, waiting. 

I am waiting. I am so magical and good and pure in this waiting state. A sexy sleek car parked in a driveway, I am waiting. Waiting to respond, to turn on, and to wait even when I'm all on and ready to go. To wait even when I am ready to go. To wait even when I am ready. To wait even when. To wait. 

The brain reads off, cackles away the list of fears from the pressures of my open centers. I believe them so often I often feel false for spreading the teachings of human design. Such hypocrisy. But, compassion swoops in from where? My body. My body is compassionate. My vessel says, wait, hold on now, just wait and feel it all out. Ring yourself out to ride the sine wave again dear sweet fool. Powerful innocent fool; heretical martyr. 

So now, when the brain speaks, I am learning to STOP. Stop and breathe through the anxiety that wants to create the compulsion to "thought become deed" its way into a corner where I feel trapped and guilty for listening to the fear. If you blindly follow your fear it will always slither you right into a corner and bait you there. Frustration: the marker of my want to change. 
We get stuck to feel frustration, isolation, depression, isolation again to become unstuck. 
We get stuck to become unstuck. 

I stole and lied to become honest and truthful. 
And I still strive to never be complacent and obedient. 
I will, however, be honest and truthful for myself first, for clarity and respect. 

And then others can drink from my well.
And I will be nourished from within. And from without.

Thank you i Ching, human design, and those who listen. 


Wednesday, May 6, 2015

I am That Is


i am that iS

I am trans. I am not. Human bean. All the beans.
Penis is yoni is penis is yoni, is all the same. It's all the same. Different manifestation of SAME energy, same source.

And yet we believe in the disconnect so hard.

I am so shamed. and so relieved.

There are blocks in my head, they are getting to me.

Talking, taking it out is really helpful. Knowing I am not alone.

The pain takes time, the emotional wave takes YEARS to find resolution.

And the sixth line always becomes the first again, somewhere, always.

(sleepy people be like, "yo do this, yo do that, dont do that etc." but this is the emotional WAVE, this is what runs our species, this is what is in control)

all the "control" we have is awareness and the patience to become more aware. that is all the "control"

I am still so tight, in my right masculine hip. ridin the bike, ridin the dick, going hard.
Such a fag, I'm still trying though, still trying for truth and transparency


I am gonna learn how to do it once I do the skeleton work.
Gotta find my skeleton key that unlocks the depths of painful sea inside

I want to scroll and run away, indulge in sex, drugs, tv

But here I am, half e HALF t, HALF man half Me.

So tired.

I am so tired.

Of feeling suffocated by the blocks inside of me. The fear of my masculinity, of my response to femininity, my sexuality and just of fraternity.

I am so sad to leave the redwooded trees. It is saddening.

And yet there is nowhere to go but Up from here. I am downtrodden and its time. Im going Up.

Summer time has caught me up. Its the Summer of the Got Down Now to get Up. Of hello Blue Sunshine, of hello Marval Rex, you are who you are. It is more than respect, more than love, and maybe on the other side ill see you on the corner of

strange things
my imagination
might do


Tuesday, April 21, 2015

T Moon Neux two

I'm not calling you a ghost

Fear is the answer, a powerful phenomenon that is the door and yet shrouds the lock.

To fall to fall to fall to fall to fall to fall at your feet.

So here I am, in the most potent time of my cycle, a moon man.
I am a moon man.
Moon Qing.

It's like I've been awakened,
still so sleeping.

I am a fiery raging flame of bird. Monolithic flying weapon of peace.

Everywhere I look and Now, I'm surrounded by your embrace.
Oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo

How do I relate to fear? "I agree, I agree".

God knows we will never see her face again.
Perfect smiles.

I think separation is okay.
Wholeness is just another word for another word.

I am an empty empty.
Empty as the emptiest empty ever.
Gone gone.
Not like the wind.

Music keeps me smiling in the excruciating crux of fear.
I cant tell the difference between the fear and the pain.
I am the most fearful fear ever. Fearful feary fear.

In the moon man momens;
I am an open porcelain vase
 young and swollen
full of water and my excrements
waiting to excrete

crank the crank
and I am winded
full of the worst

no existential throbbing
just my hands to slap my head
full and empty escape

yeah its been hard to be strong
with all of this going on

but I am disappearing
just as the binary shifts its lie
such truth

I reappear
wilted and worn
my disappearance

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Blue Neux Moon

Blue Lips,
Blue Veins,
Blue, the color of our planet from far far away.

I touch in with here and now. Blue lips, mine are especially cherry in the light of the computer lens. A subterranean sight flickers before me. That of my feminine.

Outside, the normal neighbor culls the garbage can to the curb.

Blue, the most human color.

I've been listening to Regina Spektor, who I feel sings songs for herself to hear--she spreads her lips for her own sheer pleasure. I want to write like that, make my art like that. For my own sheer pleasure.

It's morning time, the 19th of February. My personality was birthed in a couple days, rebirthed.
I feel aloneness once again. Which is remarkable, scary, sweet.
Change is a complex task for a rainbowarrior to take in, relax into, transmute within. Internal alchemy.

I am so thankful for the music. I am deeply thankful for the music which helps buffer the anguish of my soul, and inspire my journey henceforth.

I will be okay. It is something I must develop for myself, my confidence in aloneness, in the hurt, in the muddiness of all the change.

Now I see how perfectionism has held me back, as well as the conditioned beliefs of my youth. With all of this inside my body I am ready to look at it, let go and grow. I want to be not something that has come before, but I know to become myself.

A two-spirited, queer phoenix dark elf. So deeply true and light in all my shadow. Full of abundance and love. A sharp and penetrative old medicine man and a "dumb-fucked foolish" baby.

Blue, the most human color.

I am ready to go to the show.
In love and magic.


Friday, February 6, 2015

Tyme time and t-ime again

So, here I be.
Its day four of t therapy.
I say yay for me.

Changes thus far... (all particularly subtle as i am on a low low low dose yo, 25mg/week)

body temperature increased subtly
pee smells a bit different, especially right after shot
I sweat more, possibly
I am so much more I'm in the desert... and this humboldt county
I am noticeably more calm

****ps. for those ftm peeps who suffer from gnarly PMS, like I do/did, starting on a low dose every week was a goddess-send for me, a particularly good choice. My T level went up in a much gentler cycle I believe than if i'd started with 50mg/biweekly. i can't even fathom 100mg biweekly to start off with. Cray.

Spiritually and psychologically I do feel, like I said, calmer, more composed. Even more thoughtful about when to speak or not....and not always feeling the need to speak. It's only been four days but I pay a lot of attention to myself now.
I have moments where the unknown future about what I will look like/how I will be feels slightly scary and my more rational side is like, "what're you doing?"
This question doesn't scare me, as I know full-heartedly I am on the Path that is Mine. But it is good to note. Beginnings are always a tad awkward and the Libra in me wants balance.

Spiritually I feel enlivened, like I am on an adventure. I can't help but think of Link from Zelda, Ocarina of Time. I just left Kokiri village and am off into the big wide world of authentic self. Interacting with others is generally smoother, I am more confident but not egomaniacal. I enjoy my body, moving it. The dysphoria is real when I see the femininity of it, but I know in good time it will all balance out and synchronize.

Thank goddess for HRT and transgender health. I am so blessed.

 Love love love!


Thursday, February 5, 2015

February fifth, T minus 3 Daze

I am thankful for this meal. For this meal I am thank full, thank you, meal. Thank you bodice. I am in utter awe. Grief is a celebration of life. I am stricken.
I am mounted. Stigmata written on my leg, where the first of magic entered. I mark blood on the journey to reclaim my lingam, my phallic sensibilities, to transform any known understanding of the latter into a deviled and foolish thing; my own physicality itself a burden to the eyes of the Otherized who cannot see.

But right in front of you, I will force your head. Gentle gentle gentle. With the terrifying power of unconditional devotion, Love, agape, I will force your chin upwards, downwards, both ways to upend the daze. Perhaps I feel the martyr encoded within me rise up and take you all on. It is just mechanics, design, I am just a building going my way. "And young And naive And And And martyrdom." I am just a building, up in flames, to rebuild again.

This small- handful of days where the magic has crept into my bloodstream, I know I am now, talon by talon, through the doorway. The doorway to where I meet all of you, to burn baby burn with you, for you, at you. I am a monkey, watch me dance. And all that jazz.

But narcissistic devotations aside, I realize. I come into awareness, into realization. I am doing the best for myself, and that has been the greatest challenge thus far. I have always done the best for others, and now I am doing the best for myself. And my life has changed. My life is change. Stigmata on my leg, and I am a phoenix who must die to wake up, and wake up to die.
What a wonderful life.