Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Thursday, 30 April 2015

Reach Out and Touch Faith

Caffeine. Busy times. Leadership.


Reflection follows: in the mirror of a morning after waking up before or after a bath, before getting dressed, as I try to make my hair behave normally, as I brush my teeth. And, as usual, no real idea how to react or interact with what I see there. I mean, it's my face sure enough - the unkempt beard, the shaggy mop of hair lank and greasy (even if just washed and dried), the pigeon chest atop an increasingly rotund stomach. Not quite body hair: longer and darker than really consistent at the nipples and around the Hellmouth that is the belly-button. Nowhere else. Forests of Hell in the armpits, tangled thorns across the legs and about the middle region. Scrawny neck. Tied eyes, in pools of deep darkness. Unhealthy.


Clothes. Necessary. Suits mainly - from the 1940s or 50s, from Greenwoods, but not me, never me. Friends over at the weekend with a compliment after visiting a pub for an actual real-life 'swift half' (Chocolate Malt in my case), Jeremy, for twas he, suggested that I would be one of the best known people if I ever turned up to a reunion from my old school as I was one of the few "genuine individuals" in our school. Apparently, according to him, I was known by pretty much everybody and continue to be a "genuine individual" in a way that few matched, including him. Very flattering. Not sure what it means.


And reliving the old days. I was reminded at work by a young colleague of the power of Command and Conquer which, apparently, was released after my father left meaning that I must have owned it afterward too, something I had not really considered. I was surprised to find myself remembering it all so clearly and deeply when faced with some playthroughs, to the point where I was getting actively frustrated with these professional gamers for missing obvious tactics and better and more efficient ways to win (seriously, they get leadership ratings of 18%! I used to worry if I fell below 40%!). So, that was different. The soundtrack is also worth a listen, though I found that it was improved in my mind by sound effects from the game over the top - so I haven't linked any videos here in favour of letting it live on my head as I heard it when I played. It's why the CD I do have never quite does what I need it to, I fear.


Why all the Marilyn Mansun videos? I can rely on him and his music to project the kind of image that repulses and fascinates. The kind that makes people want to stare for longer with a look on their face that maybe he's trying too hard or not hard enough to be something he is or is trying hard not to be. He's a clever man but has he sold out? Oh, definitely, but is that not just the ultimate expression of anarchism or has he become a corporate shill selling youthful ideas of rebellion at a knock down rate that can be controlled and channelled for the good of the controlling and vested interests in global society? An enigma, a fusion of some decent tunes (these are mostly cover versions) and some difficult to follow posturing. What is that if not an accurate portrayal of my cross-dressing efforts?


Because some people know who they are better than I know what or who I am. Some people want to appear as women or would prefer to be physically female to match their brain chemistry or want the outer and inner to align better. I don't like my outer or my inner and they do not align. Forever certainly but is that just a word? Toby once gave me forever written down to symbolise what she said I feared the most - the impermanence of a relationship - by trying to push that fear away that we might live. It didn't work. When I use the word I have no real understanding or concept of what it actually means so I suppose she was right and her attempt to allay my fears was always doomed to fail. Because I know what I mean by failure more than I know what I mean by success.


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