GEOGRAPH,322A,38.250765,-85.745122

  The male-jail fancies nonesuch; She as WorldOnlyWorld feels, imagination and whim at the periphery. In this prison from birth, then, my LifeWithout (life) tries to weave a womb-- silly boy-- who plays with impossibilities-- silly nilly you can only be gurl, not girl; all the societies of Improved Bodies menstruate as never I shall, and the sadness setting in with that fancy closes the Door; Lindsey McCarthy wrote the book on it: on re-homing, women in shelter MAKE SANCTUARIES; see the .jpg's of birth such as this blog means to me, in total systems terms an output of HEAT in the heat of day, and some garbage (that which is eliminated never my true mothersmilk) My sex life is good; i see my body naked in the mirror, so self-contained woman phenotypically, and eventually the semen after much labor lurches. I am trying to create in this cell-- not a pornography but an auto-erotic iconography; I have been living in a 'ethereal' state of eros, rooted in the happy awareness that...

 I need less and the only need is the space generated, momentarily, by orgasm; last night and the smiles that precipitated paroxysm will have to stink now, from outside there is knocking, the bill-collectors and mail black with debt shrivels the meat between 'down there' wilted like this this oldster once a milker now but must pay bills; this is what the end of orgasm means for Space As.If he was loved, as if neverlove makes no better medicine, gism spilt that is what I mean My goal it is to create a self-sufficiency perhaps a crazy sufficiency but one of necessity I am of that station in life where there are a few it it in my social circle where I must create a certain community within myself where everything gendered will have to be desexed an impossibility of course because at the root of every biological circumstance sex is implicated is the derivative but from which all social action melded occurs it matters not at all if I have an audience audiences are merely they happen...

 My beard, still insurgent, refuses neutering; I must CUT I must shave to the bare smoothed skin like good gurl; these old reminders of the-hated keep growing, crabgrass daily almost mown Friday night here I am told by parties womanly that I do not quite fit in a good damnation that needs to be for one who's show despisement re that imprisonment into which I was born a peewee destiny that dangles yet a little but which nonetheless begins add to look passably girlfriend I shall endure the solitude it is my sentence for crimes I have committed in all ways do to my mail genitalia for which there can be no good riddance I still shave the white grass on my face needs a daily mowing what once was blonde then brown then dark brown turned into a snowy look a despicable look reminding me that there can be no escape from genetic destiny this blog intends to be almost entirely audio and visual I shall try to make some essay in essay form of how these little tokens of iconography speak to that...

I, hybrid, between those usuals of the mating game do some approximations; my love is pity for fallen women. my love is real. . . Womb! You inspire me tonight and to my cot nakedly again I ache; it will come out, the love handily for Her AngelWithin domestically damaged homeless as God and I am all Penitents are surrendering for all that Power. . . I am womanly, I feel in my woman--  See the inverted pyramid" What I have become I love CurvesCorporate that Estrogen Creates \/ Regard! Some look of Woman, the-man withdrawing. . . Goodbye, man! I never did like you. . .