I guess I need to vent a little.


I haven’t been updating this blog as frequently as I would like to largely because I feel like I have run out of things to say.  That’s obviously not true, there are always infinite things to say, but it was an excuse to hole up and hide away because that is just what I do sometimes.

I don’t really know what it is that has been eating at me these past couple of months.  I miss IDA, I guess, and I wish I had stayed longer.  I have been working as a freelance writer, which is good for a little money here and there, but it is not very fulfilling.  I haven’t gotten out much and, despite fall being my favorite time of year and Halloween being my absolute favorite day of the year, I can’t seem to even get excited about that.  I have not been as consistent as I should be with my hormone regimen and that shit isn’t even hard – I just haven’t been doing it and I don’t know why.  I started my period yesterday, which makes me hella dysphoric and I’m sure that my inability to keep a consistent hormone regimen doesn’t help my mood swings and anger issues.  I have been snapping at Lucky over everything and nothing and I had a bit of an anxiety fit over all the clutter in our room today.  Whenever I have money, I’m tempted to immediately spend it on alcohol so I can start drinking first thing when I wake up in the afternoon and get through the day with a nice buzz and a comfortable numbness.  These things are not big problems.  I am not an alcoholic or an addict of any kind and most of the things that make me anxious or upset really shouldn’t – what I am is an escapist with a huge family history of substance abuse and addiction.

In short – I don’t really think there is anything wrong with me, but I feel like there is and I don’t know why.  I am constantly upset about something, or everything and I can’t express it to others either because I can’t articulate it or I know I am being unreasonable.  I’ve been driving myself crazy inside my head for the past few weeks.

This really started a while ago – I had started feeling a little stir-crazy because I work at home and live at home and really don’t get much social interaction.  Lucky and I decided to trip shrooms together one night and wander around the neighborhood and it made me happy for a while because I pushed all the scary bad thoughts back (as I am wont to do regardless of drug use).  But as we went to bed, I was still tripping and I lied there for about an hour just thinking about life and death and all that deep shit you think about on entheogens.  Before I actually got to sleep, I came to the conclusion that one day I would kill myself.  That’s not a threat, I’m not even sure if it’s true, but I thought it just as casually as you might think about your favorite fruit.  The thought doesn’t frighten me or disturb me, really – I just don’t know where it came from or why.

That night wasn’t very long after I heard about Josh’s death.  I remember because I cried for him finally.  But I also cried for somebody new, somebody I hardly knew if ever at all.  A good friend of my family – my older cousins new him best, really, but I’ve known his mother all my life and I know I’d met him a number of times before.  His name was Matt and I had learned that he killed himself the week before.  I had also learned that he was in the closet – another Queer suicide, another Queer murder.  I didn’t know him very well at all.  I know he had a baby and, with the exception of his mother, a very conservative, unwelcoming family, and I know he used to fool around with one of his male friends.  I know he had tried to come out once, but was not accepted and was pushed right back into the closet.  He died because he couldn’t express himself and he couldn’t live with that.  Who could?  This has been on my mind for a long time…I didn’t even know Matt, really.  He was a person who lived somewhere on the outskirts of my ever-expanding world and until he died, I never knew much about him at all except that he existed.

It is an interesting habit I have – when people die, I take shrooms and trip on it.  I did it while my grandmother was dying from cancer and after she was gone.  I tripped for Josh and for Matt.  I tripped for my second cousin, even, when she died.  Someone I know somewhere I’ve been always dies and I commemorate them with a ritual shroom trip.  I don’t really know what it means and, quite honestly, I don’t know why I do most things and I don’t know what has been going on with me lately.  Perhaps I should trip on it.  Or perhaps I should be sober for a while.

I think I just don’t want to be where I am.  I’m not comfortable here – I’m anxious and angsty and tired, tired all the time.  My surrounding environment is just clutter and complacency and it makes me feel lazy and distracted.  I can’t think straight here and I hate it.  I want to go back to IDA and stay there as long as I’m welcome.  I want to make IDA happen where I am.  I wanna live in the woods and bathe in waterfalls and grow food and be a fairy with all of my beautiful Queer fairy friends who want the same.  I’m tired of television and this shitty town in this shitty state, I’m tired of concrete, cars, drama and the fucking fascist fucks who exist everywhere around here.

I have been fighting the impulse to just break shit everywhere I go (though, honestly, I don’t know why).  I think it’s time to start doing things again.  I think I have been holed up for a little too long.


Bullshit Dump


Lately, a few friends of mine and I have been dealing with a certain person whose very existence in our social group is a burden. This person, we’ll call him Asshat for the purpose of anonymity has been given chance after chance to grow up and take some responsibility for himself and has failed every time. Let’s go back to last summer for a bit:

Now, Asshat and I, along with several other of our friends, are/were members of the (now dwindling) Gainesville IWW (Industrial Workers of the World) union branch. Our branch needed to raise money for a campaign we were starting and a trip we were planning (a few of our number were going to Work People’s College) and Asshat had the brilliant idea of putting on a play as a means of making money. This might have worked, except our branch was small and the union already works on a shoe-string budget – there was no way we could get the resources to put on this play. Even if we could get those resources (mostly through urban foraging, to be sure) without much cost to the union, there was still the issue of a venue and a cast. See, Gainesville is a college town in which nearly 3/4 of the population are UF students and none of them are in town during the summer months so nobody was even there to respond to the casting call when Asshat put it out. It should be noted that all this while, the folks in the union are telling Asshat that this play won’t happen because we simply did not have the resources to book a venue, nor the bodies to put together sets, make costumes or actually act in the play. Also, Asshat had decided to couch-hop between our friends’ various houses and had promised to get a summer job so he could help with utilities, food and anything else, an idea to which nobody was immediately opposed on the grounds that he would stay only a few days to perhaps a week at each place so as not to impose but nobody was actually aware that he would be staying the entire summer in Gainesville. Long story short, Asshat never got a job and stayed a month or more at most places, despite the very obvious fact that his presence was a burden and the roommates felt that he was taking advantage of his hospitality. More than once, he was asked to leave from a place and more than once he brushed off the request and made excuses for why he couldn’t leave just yet. Needless to say, Asshat has few, if any, friends left in Gainesville.

Now, it’s important to understand that Asshat is more than just a mooch. He claims to be an anarchist, as so many do these days, without putting into practice the beliefs which supposedly come with the label – it is the reason I, personally, try to avoid applying that, or any other label really, to myself – he claims to be genderqueer but fails to acknowledge the difference of experience which comes with such an identity. It is not for me or anyone else to police another person’s gender, but Asshat has been heavily male socialized and, while he does enjoy wearing skirts, he has done nothing in terms of re-socialization and fails to acknowledge the difference of experience which comes with such an identity which makes me and other Queer friends in our group mistrust his claims and suspect appropriation. Asshat is into trends – it’s trendy to be radical, so he’s radical; it’s trendy to be Queer, so he’s Queer (to be fair, his sexuality is at least fluid if his gender remains stagnant but that’s irrelevant). Since coming back from that summer in Gainesville, Asshat has thought to repeat this same exact stunt with the local social group in St. Augustine.

In the past year, we have, as a group, begun a couple of minor projects, including a zine and a community potluck. Lucky and I were behind the initial organization of both of these projects with help from a few others who contributed to the zine and were totally psyched for the potluck but despite all of our efforts, both projects flopped. The first issue of the zine was beautiful, Lucky designed it and I helped her print and our friend John donated some prints from the college library, but we had no help with distribution at all, and all of John’s prints weren’t enough because that shit is expensive so ultimately we only managed a few copies which we distributed amongst ourselves and tried to just move on to the next one, hoping it would work out better. It didn’t, and we gave up. Same thing happened with the potluck, the first one was great, people came out, we ate, it was a success. We had a briefing afterward, scheduled the next one and nobody showed. After that, Lucky and I were frustrated and ready to just quit so we left St. Augustine and did our short stint of traveling only to come back and find that the projects we had started had been revived, which was great! Except they were no longer cooperative – see, Asshat had taken over the zine project and decided to play editor, which meant that he decided what goes in and what doesn’t, he did all of the design work, he could change anything he didn’t like, issues came out according to his schedule, and he would take no outside suggestions whatsoever. He had also revived the potluck, but it served no purpose and turned out to basically just be this stupid thing he could do for cred.

It should be noted that during all this time, Asshat has been living rent-free with our friends, the Frosts, who are wonderful and forgiving people who love everyone but only tolerate Asshat. See, before moving in with the Frosts, Asshat had been kicked out of his mother’s house for smoking weed in the house while she was on probation (she wouldn’t have actually cared if it weren’t something that could get her arrested) and had, for two months, lived with our friend, Eddie, who had told him he could only stay for a week at the most. On top of this, Asshat has so much shit that when he got kicked out, he had to store his possessions between three houses, one of them being Lucky’s and my apartment, another our friend Terry’s house and finally Eddie’s place. When Eddie kicked Asshat the fuck out, the Frosts took him in and, slowly but surely, everyone he was using as a storage unit threatened to sell or burn his shit if he didn’t come get it (keep in mind, he left it with us for over a month and none of us had the space for it). Even then, it took him a few weeks to get everything out. One particular item which irritated Lucky and me more than I can quite express was a giant box overflowing with DVDs which Asshat just left in the middle of the walkway in our kitchen one day. We have five or six very deep closets in our otherwise very small apartment, but the box just sat in the middle of the goddamn kitchen. Lucky was so pissed, they wouldn’t even move it, insisting that Asshat should do it because he was the one who was so inconsiderate to put it there. I was the one who ended up moving it because if I had to trip over it again, I would throw it off the balcony, but I digress. Point is, Asshat took advantage of our hospitality and our willingness to help a friend, all the time citing “mutual aid,” but for the life of me, I could not figure out just what about this aid was mutual. During this time, Asshat also constantly solicited rides from those of us with cars, often using manipulative tactics such as guilt trips and emotional blackmail to get us to take them places after we had told them “no” for whatever reason.

For the past six months (at least), Asshat has been living with the Frosts and has yet to pay rent or help them with utilities. He has lost the job he did have and hasn’t been really looking for a new one while his partner, M.J., has been working day and night and had to spend every dollar of her first check from DQ on both of their rents because he’s broke and loathe to sell his assloads of unnecessary shit.

All of the above highlights the character of this person and the way that they treat friends and allies, but it is nothing compared to what he has done most recently, which is really why I’m posting this rant. M.J. has been living with Lucky and me for the past few weeks because Asshat has turned out to be a terrible roommate and a worse partner (go figure). A few weeks ago, Asshat left town to go to a funeral in Louisiana, where his family is from, and he was gone for a couple of days, which was super exciting for Lucky and me because it meant we’d have an opportunity to hang out with M.J. without Asshat around (this is usually impossible). We had been hearing some seriously not-okay things about the way Asshat was treating her from Eddie, who works at DQ with her, and wanted an opportunity to speak with her ourselves because M.J. is made of awesome and the last thing we wanted was for Asshat to drive her away from the group and our work – if anything, we’d prefer it the other way around. Well, M.J. comes over with Eddie after work and tells us this horror story about how Asshat harassed her over the phone and made her cry and bullshitted and guilt tripped her all night because she went out to Denny’s after closing with her co-workers and didn’t invite him or go to pick him up first. Essentially, he was acting like a petulant child. Then she relayed her side of the story concerning the rent issue and how difficult he was to live with and how much she just wanted to get out, so we offered her a place to stay at our apartment until the dorms open.

Since taking in M.J., we have banned Asshat from our apartment – please note, he was already unofficially banned from the apartment, but when we saw how quickly M.J. accepted our offer (she was moved in within two days), we started to understand the gravity of the situation and decided that this needed to be an official safe space. Since M.J. has been living with us, she has had to deal with daily bullshit from Asshat, more guilt trips and emotional blackmail, more clinginess, insults, accusations, pleas – he’s left her voice messages saying he just wants to be in a monogamous relationship with her (probably forgot to mention, they were open and that was not a problem until he got some other girl pregnant) and he sent her a text earlier today threatening suicide as well as an excruciating 11 min long YouTube video where he’s holding her cat and rambling about all the memories they’ve had together when just the other day, he harassed her until she came to his house and then kept her there for three hours trying to coerce her into having sex with him and then exploded on her when she bolted out the door. He even tried to force himself into the driver’s seat with her when she got into her car. The Frosts will be kicking him out of their house soon and then he’ll have no place else to go in this town, but until then, his very presence troubles me.

Asshat claims to be an anarchist, genderqueer, a feminist; he claims to understand and hate the patriarchy, to be working towards abolishing hierarchy. He claims to understand oppression and to fight against it, yet I have never known him to be anything but oppressive, self-serving, immature, cruel, inconsiderate and toxic. He has done more than just what I have put down in this post, so much I can’t remember enough to write it out all at once. This is not the first partner he has abused emotionally and pushed away, nor the first group of people he has leeched off of; he has even run away during actions, leaving his friends behind to get detained by pigs and possibly arrested. I have never known such a coward or such a hypocrite in my life and while I prefer to avoid hateful emotions, I honestly don’t know what I will do next time I see him; I can only hope I’ll never see him again.

All in all, I think our social group is doing a pretty good job of handling our problem with Asshat, though I do wish that we could all have seen this person’s toxicity a little sooner, but I think we were all holding out hope that maybe if we called him on his bullshit and made him take responsibility for the fucked up things he has been doing, he might take the hint and change his behavior. Unfortunately, Asshat doesn’t listen. He makes excuses for himself and brushes off any and all criticism, taking nothing seriously and denying his own part in the failure of projects, the tension in the house he lives in, breakdowns in communication and the unnecessarily unpleasant deaths of his relationships. I don’t even know what to do with a person like this and I feel as though even if we do shun him from our group (which is inevitable) and send him packing back to his mother’s house in Palm Coast, he will still blame us and, instead of doing any real self-reflection, will go on to do the same things in other places to other people. I hope I’m wrong, but I very seriously doubt that I am and this bothers me. Ultimately, I think Asshat is a spoiled brat with a Peter Pan complex and some serious other issues; I don’t think he’ll ever grow up, but I would like to hear about any experiences other folks have had with people like this and, perhaps get some advice on what we can do to rid ourselves of this pestilence sooner rather than later.