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View Diary: Cheers and Jeers: Thursday (313 comments)

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  •  Grumble, Grumble (4.00)
    Jeers to festering transphobic remarks about whether or not Ann Coulter "used to be a man" and what that could possibly have to do with her being an ass, as if by itself, a person being transsexual is prima facie evidence that they deserve to be denigrated and/or dismissed.

    Cheers to having pride in being who I am inspite of the ignorance of others.

    Jeers to Thursdays being meeting days (so I posted today's diary just after midnight, eastern, last night.  It's part 2 of the construction zone.

    Cheers to not having to teach any classes on Fridays.

    Jeers to having to grade sh*t and create exams all weekend.

    Today's poem (a blast from the past...I'm feeling much better now):

    Loneliness and Isolation

    The mind--yearning, seeking, questing, emerging--female.
    The body--betraying the mind--male.
    Can one express what it feels like to be transsexual?
    Before I was man and was treated like man.
    After I will be woman.
    Now I am both/neither.
    Neither generally wins, excluded from both.
    Is it too difficult for others to comprehend
    Or is it too difficult for me to explain?
    Is there anyone who will accept me as I am
    Or will I only be accepted/rejected
    For who I was/will be?
    Loneliness and isolation nip at the edges of my being.

    Certainty becomes expectation.
    Expectation becomes hope.
    Hopes become dreams.
    The dreams dissipate into nothingness.
    Another friend is gone.
    New friends are made.
    Life changes but why must the bridge be so tenuous?
    Loneliness and isolation blur my consciousness.

    Why must others always bring up the past
    Which has become so foreign to me?
    The events are there but the feelings are gone.
    How do I describe the deeper feelings that have replaced them?
    Emotions long submerged boil to the surface
    And erupt full-blown into the mind
    But there is no one present with whom to share them.
    Loneliness and isolation crowd around my soul.

    How do I explain the feeling of hormones
    Coursing through my body,
    Changing it to fit the mind?
    How do I deal with the sexuality, the sensuality
    Exploding in every nerve ending?
    When there is nobody with whom to explore these sensations,
    Time slows considerably.
    How does one measure the growth of a breast?
    With a watch, a sundial, a calendar, or with a life?
    Loneliness and isolation seek to smother my existence.
    -Robyn Serven
    -November, 1992


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