I've been spending the past two weeks in the French countryside near Bordeaux. Through a website called Helpx.net, I contacted hosts on a farm and negotiated to trade work on the farm for room and board and food. I feed and scoop poop for two horses, a goat, and of course, chickens. One of the chickens lets me pet her. I felt cooped up this evening so I went for a bike ride. Right now, I'm writing this on my phone. This is my view.
There are too many mosquitoes and they should all die a fiery, torturous death. Anyway, I often get lonely during my travels. Right now is another of those phases. I had an amazing strawberry shortcake in the morning at the Saturday outdoors market in Mussidan, but this underlying loneliness remains. Yesternight I realized that I was far away from Mayfair Skatepark and if all went well I wouldn't be back there in a long time. And the skaters there I had come to know and love would move on too. I felt sad but webcammed with a friend who told me to get some rest, so I did.
Well, the loneliness is still here. Why am I here? Why do I keep feeling this urge to fly to new places and experiences, far away from everyone who loves me? The answer is I don't know. It feels lonely and beautiful at the same time. I just know that if I don't, I die. Sounds dramatic, but it's true. I've seen the Dali Museum in Figueres, and I've seen grand churches in Barcelona and Bordeaux and they're beautiful, but I'm looking for something beyond snapping pictures. I'm looking for a life where I am free, where I don't have to choose one career, one spouse, one house, one rat race life of school-career-die. Is freedom too much to ask for? Freedom in love and life? Am I Icarus who flew too close to the sun so that his wings of wax melted and he fell into the sea and drowned? Well, I don't mind trying. I hope this post reminds me that I'm brave, I'm strong, and I'm not afraid to face uncertainty. The story of Daedalus seems to say that we should stay humble and close to the ground. But what if he didn't use wax? What if there's something else, and if we find it, we can fly to the sun and beyond?
"Do you think it's possible to love two people at the same time?" asks Elizabeth Marston in this film based on the real-life polyamorous relationship between Wonder Woman comic creator Professor William Marston, his wife Elizabeth Marston, and grad student Olive Byrne.
Polyamory seems like it could be a healthy form of love. The movie dramatizes certain aspects of it, but I don't think it's about kinky sex all the time. It's about being there for one another. It's about comfort and hugs and cuddles. How is that morally worse than a world in which so much pain and war already exists? Imagine a pile of bears cuddling. That's what people could be. I feel like I could be more elegant with my words, but right now I'm functioning on five hours of sleep and tomorrow I have to skateboard 30 minutes to my 8 AM bus to Bordeaux from Barcelona.
Anyway, for now, polyamory remains an interesting thought experiment. I have yet to actually try it, which leads to my curiosity about jealousy--is it natural, or trained? After I took LSD in February 2017, my mind became open to love and I found it easier to let go of jealousy by focusing on self-love and love of others. I find that when I feel fulfilled, powerful, and independent in my mind and finances, I don't feel jealousy immediately upon thinking of my love interest cuddling, kissing, or having sex with another person.
I think this is because I have severed the link to a certain common social assumption--if you love another human being, you will no longer love me. This belief propels men and women to be jealous of each other, rooted in the insecurity and fear that we will be left if our lover loves a second person. So rules are set so that this replacement will never happen. A girl or a boy in a monogamous relationship must never spend the night alone with the opposite gender. They must never touch. In this way, gender opposition is enforced. In this way, monogamy is enforced. Maybe this works for some people, but at the moment, I would despise being forced into this situation. I want to love as many people as I can. What does "loving many people" even mean? Well, I'm not sure yet. I need sleep. This is as eloquent as I can be at midnight.
Buenas noches from Barcelona. #polyamory
"For fun," I tell him before plugging my headphones back into my ears. It is nice to have a day where I don't force myself to be social. Yesterday I slept at 2 AM, and woke up at 4 AM. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I went to skate all around Barcelona. I skated at the MACBA (Museum of art something), On the way I stalked a pigeon and felt the urge to squeeze it but my hands were full with my skateboard. I feel like a voyeur, an observer. Invisible, I watch people and it's like watching little vignettes. In the bathroom, some girls argue about whether "retina" is a cream or a part of the eye. I laugh inside, but I say nothing and hum.
Isolation gives me time to reflect: the two female superpowers are empathy and giving life. How can I incorporate that into my story, which I plan to be a modern retelling of Kiều? After skating I sat down to rest at 12 noon, when the sun was hot, and the sky bright and blue. I took out my copy of Truyện Kiều and realized that all my falling from skating had smashed the banana in my backpack...right onto the top of all the book pages. I sat in the shadow of the museum for twenty minutes, ripping out all the banana-sauce-soaked edges so the book wouldn't decay. Now the Tale of Kieu is ripped and ragged. The form is ugly, but the content remains. A book about a girl with a ripped, torn life has ripped, torn pages. Is she beautiful?
I like little cocks, big cocks, angry cocks and happy cocks. I like the way they crow in the morning, and the way they flap their wings and bob their heads when they peck at seeds on the ground. My love started at 8 years old -- I did not connect with humans but I connected with Mamacita, Honey, and Buttons -- the three cocks whom I chased around, hugged, and loved for one and a half happy years. Can a female be a cock? I'm a cocky female. Yes, Mamacita was a cock too. On Wednesday I fly to Barcelona. Am I going to be the first cock to fly 6000 miles across the Atlantic Ocean? Maybe I will talk to you about something other than cocks in the next post. But for now, I would just like to say that I love cocks.