Island

I cant even begin this sentence without erasing it a thousand times. Ive made mistakes. Ive dealt with my past. I dreamt my brother was alive, but his clothes were all dirty, as if to reflect the years hes been dead in the ground, though he was cremated. I don’t think about my brother often, I don’t miss him necessarily. I have even begun to stop missing my sister so much, though, from time to time I wish I could talk to her, and so I do. I just start talking, out loud, as if she were here, I tell her how I wish she could meet my boyfriend. Although, no one, save for two of my friends, have met him. What did they think? They liked him, of course, he is a likeable guy. He’s smart and funny and handsome and something of money, hes got style and taste and also negligence for it all. Disheveled: hes just the right amount of messy. He is a self proclaimed mess. I feel as if im hiding my whole life from him, and whats the point? I cant change who I am or where I come from, though I guess I can try to change who I am, but I cant change my suburban middle class family. My mother who has no idea how to keep anything clean, but rather, inherently makes messes upon getting out of bed. Or my father who is always making noises; talking to you, talking to the dogs, singing, shouting, and usually just a little too loud due to his hearing loss. And me? I live at home. And im broke. It’s a sad, very pathetic position ive put myself in. I am responsible for my life, and I feel as if its in shambles. Back in Chicago, acting and studying and going on audition after audition for ridiculous crap jobs as if that’s all Chicago has, which is absurd, we have four shows filming here, which is also absurd compared to the amount of shows filming in los angeles. I thought I wanted to move back to new york, continue working with my acting teacher there, but actually, the sway seems to be pulling me back west again. And I don’t know what to do, id like to work in Chicago theatre, which I am doing, but id like to make money too. And the tug and pull goes on.   

  

  

  

  

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    
 

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Runaway

I want to runaway.

I want to leave this cold behind.

Forget my friends

My parents 

Off to never never land.

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

Get lost in the heat

Make a new home 

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Baby

Being in love is a bit like exploring deep space. It’s scary & fascinating& wonderful. Theresa person in this universe that I love more than any other person, a person that makes me glow with their love. It’s a miracle. A phenomenon, just like gravity.   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

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stick around

Stick around. Stay a while. There’s lots to see and even though it may be awful and it may seem small and time may limit you, give yourself the great gift of seeing what’s new. Be kind to yourself and be kind to others. Make use of your friends. they will soon pull you out of the most harrowing places. Laugh. Giggle. Guffaw. Make fun of yourself and never of others. Don’t worry about educating bullies. It’s mostly fear and there’s nothing you can do about what frightens other humans. In the meant time, escape when you can, stand your ground when you must, and forgive when you’re able.

Find a spiritual guide. Be lead. Follow. Listen closely. This is will be the thing that saves you from the darkest corners and lifts you from the deepest wells. Allow it to flourish and blossom and don’t ever figure it out. Just keep asking.

Stand naked in a mirror and find the completeness of you within the bravery of your reflection. Whatever it is you decide to do to your body, make sure it is because of your ever changing inner being, and not to please the world around you. Release the need to assimilate. Be different. Be unique and beautifully strange.

I say all this because I need you. I am sometimes lonely for my own and I am constantly searching for my voice. You see, even at 53 years old, I still consider myself a student of this experience and I need guides. And you’re the best. So you see, if you decide to leave the planet early, especially only living 15 years on this planet, how are we ever to meet? So, stay. Stick around. Put down the knife, put away the gun, stand clear of the bridge and don’t take the pills. You are part of the Transgender tribe and we are all waiting to hear from you. And if for a moment, you feel that urge to run, if you feel again as if you are nothing, or that the violence is too much, or if you simply cannot hear Tranny, Faggot, or Sissy one more time, take a moment and go outside and stand in the center of something, and Look Up. Breathe and allow yourself to Shatter and fall apart and be in pain and find your freedom. For it is there, up towards the nothingness, that you were birthed. It is in that powerful, endless continuum, that the stardust that created this world, still breathes and thrives in the cells that make up your vessel.

So know this, my beautiful, Trans brother or sister:

You are made of Stardust, And because that is true, anything is possible…

~ Alexandra Billings

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Marilyn Monroe-FBI Files

FILE – In this June 2, unknown year, file photo, actress Marilyn Monroe smiles in a car after arriving tousled from an all-night plane flight from Hollywood to Idlewild Airport, in New York. The actress said she planned to rest in New York before going to England to make a new movie with Sir Laurence Olivier. In late 2012, the FBI has released a new version of files it kept on Monroe that reveal the names of some of her acquaintances who had drawn concern from government officials and members of her entourage over their suspected ties to communism. (AP Photo, File)

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Hungry love

Some things are better in theory. And Some things are better in the flesh.  

    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

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Boring Guts

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
   

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Instinct

People are going to think what they want to think. I let them. You cant control perception, it’s a losing game, so I don’t play. I let them lose. Lose themselves in their own fantasies of what thye want me to be: a rebel, an angel, a romantic, a heartbreaker, a child, a man. Perhaps Im all of these things, perhaps im none. But what I am is for me to find out, not to be dictated to me. Its for me to know.That is my right; to make mistakes, to disappear. But most importantly not let comfort hold me back, not now, not ever. Because predictability is boring, and boredom is something to rebel against. 

Instinct stays silent and strong. It is why my instinct is my brother. This is why I trust it. We are the same instinct and i. Instinct is the strong and silent type.

Sergei polunin

Its makes me feel invincible. And if I didn’t feel like that I wouldn’t keep fighting to get back to where I belong. 

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
   

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