#oddly not on live forever but some backing of songs you dont normally hear

[todays-just-a-daydream]

29 January 1995 one of the best oasis live recordings:

[100-becs]

A Suffocated Soul

TW//Transphobia, homophobic and transphobic slurs, mentions of gore, and mentions of sxxcxde

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Who am I?

I’m an 18 year old disgrace to my family who sees her bearded face as an ailment, who's deep voice, a bass, makes me wish words would fail me, a spiraling mess who's fake masculinity trails me. A girl with a liar's face. A girl who's failing. But still I tire, inside me’s a fire with dwindling kindling, running down to the wire. A soul suffocated and strangled whose saving face is a shell of former self, self hatred shooting through her, forever forced to fester in her failings, sequestered into an inescapable quagmire.

And I said nothing when you told me that my body is not my choice

When I’ve found a way, my voice, my song, it brings me euphoria until you come along, lecturing me that how I'm living is wrong, and how being myself would make me not belong. Relentless ridicule of how my hair is too long, that there’s no going back if I alter my bod. That I can’t be a girl, I watch football all day long. It takes me everything not to pack up and say “so long”. Saying it’ll be my fault if someone kills me, it kills me. Of living, I’m not worthy, as I’m too far along a man to be girly. Oh, gosh, I’m getting wordy. I didn’t realize myself early. The downward spiral into nothingness around me is swirling, as I try to clean up my mess you made for me. Can’t you see I’m distressed? I’m worth less than worthless. Holy fuck, give me a rest. If a rest is too much leniency, go ahead and arrest me. It's torture to continue when my own mother detests me

I said nothing when you went on your tirades against who I am

I’m a girl who can’t cry, though I’m red in the eye. Knuckles bloodied with mirror shards surrounding her. In each is a reflection of a monster. A man who did others wrong and strung people along for his own amusement. Seeping out my hand is where everything I had to prove went. I need to vent. I’m fucking spent. I broke when others bent. Off the ledge, my sanity was sent, the life I’ve dreamt was met with dissent, but though inside, 100 times i’ve wept, I still can’t cry. And despite my eyes and thighs being red with this dye, I lie and say i’m fine. You tell me I'm wired, but my wires are fried and my identity you’ve vilified, and deep inside, I want to die. There's not a day that goes by where I dont think "maybe if I just try, I can act like everything's okay as a guy and i wont have to live with being the type of person you told me you loved but really you're ashamed of."

I said nothing when you told me I’m a man

I’m the antithesis of normality. Fuck the formalities. Send me to my grave at the edge of reality, for the way I exist, you tell me it’s confounding. You feed me to wolves who are hungry and growling. I raise my bloodied fists to fight back, but they all overpower me. The turmoil I face is what has the wolves howling. A little girl whose cries will never come out of me. A little girl named Jocelyn. The name that should never be uttered around you. What you call a trend is why my head's always pounding. The struggle I face every day is astounding. And it stacks up and stacks up and it all amounts to me running numbers through my head, 41 percent. I dont care what you meant because it's the message you sent that I am not welcome in this world being who I am, lest I be happy in my body that others may dissent, and that if my vessel meets an untimely end, the fault is on me, not how wrong society went

I said nothing when you told me it would be on me if someone kills me for wearing a dress

"It's just a trend. I thought I was a lesbian when i was a teenager" is the mantra you constantly use to defend your position. The trans people you mention, you say just want attention, and list ways they're not menschen, in hopes that I stop pretending. I'm not pretending! Apprehending my emotions flowing like the tides of the ocean makes me feel atrocious. The pain that shoots through my skin, skin that imprisons my livelihood within, within my self is a soul begging to be let out, out of my mouth shoots "Why can't I just be fucking normal?!" with my deep voice killing me, "methinks the trxnny doth protest too much" is the response I receive, leaves who I am to die in the darkness, darkness forever blotting out the sun. I'm not your son! I'd gladly run from this thing that I was, reach for my heart instead of a gun that threatens to send this whole operation asunder, and become a being worthy of love and of wonder, not for fun or because I've grown dumber, but because I would never willingly take the brunt of the hell that I live through daily to taste the unimportant heaven of a shred of attention. 

I said nothing when you told me I was following trends

You paint me as a terrible liar, but I was able to convince you that I was a man. I played along with my assigned gender roles when you watched over me, clueless of 10 year old me's crying sleepless nights, or 13 year old me's internal fights, how everything was eating away at me like termites. I know my rights and your words aren't right. I constantly escape to digital landscapes because however it infuriates me wont be a scrape against who I am, and will not cripple my mental state. 

I said nothing when you told me to change my preferred name everywhere.

The 19 years i've spent on this earth, what were they worth? From my birth to the present day, I've pissed my entire life away because I allowed my mother to convince me that she knows more about me than I do about me. That there was no overcoming my greatest obstacle because she birthed me. You've stripped my individuality away from me as if I had just given it away to you. You fed me ideas that I thought nothing of because I focused too hard on the fact that the figure that's supposed to be a universal security blanket won't accept me. And those ideas you spoon-fed to me was the waste of self-doubt I couldn't flush out. My bloody knuckles and shattered mirrors are products of your rhetoric. And as I ball my fist up one last time, bawling my eyes out on the inside, ready to smash the final pane, just end the pain as I go insane…

Why cant I do it?…

My reflection smiles back and shows affection. A disheveled, bloody, broken complexion, but oddly beautiful, a captivating introspection. Completely removed from your hateful gobbledygook, I rub my eyes to take a second look. She's smiling, like she can read me like a book. My ethereal self is happy, while I'm sitting here, still shook. A queer, trans, lesbian mess, but purely my mess. none caused by outside distress, a girl who is always her best and strives for nothing less, Jocelyn. October 9th, 2018 was the first time I saw this wonder, and she helped me see the meaning in my night-long internal plights, my shattered psyche from fights, blights I've brought on my body that brought me ungodly dysphoria and triggered upon me out of body memories because the last body I would possibly want for me is that of a man. She makes me look back on my past and revere it. Im smiling ear to ear because I know although I may fear and people may leer, as long as I'm here, I know I'm queer, I'm here, I'm queer, I'm here, I'm her.

I said nothing when you threatened to send me to a psych ward.

Coming to terms with toxicity can be a tumultuous task that tries to turn you against those you think you love. But that isnt the case here. I know you hate me, but love the boy you think I am. And any attempt I make to let Jocelyn make my life any amount more manageable is met with fury, the situation gets blurry, I constantly worry, like im being buried alive. I strive to be able to survive and thrive because you taught me that I shouldn't let anyone get in the way of me living my life. Please take this knife away from my sight as I contemplate this strife. My existence does not make things worsen, I am my own person!

I said nothing when you lied to me about your care for the LGBTQ+ community

The toxicity of your words only runs skin deep. But this toxic testosterone that courses through my every capillary and produced by my bones makes me scream bloody mary. My hearing is plagued with "fxggot", "trxp", and "trxnny", and if I outwardly say "Hi, I'm transgender", the further attacks on me would be many. But their blaring cacophony is nothing comparing to my body changing to be something that pains me. Waking up to being physically male is just a constant reminder of someone I'm not, an unsettling notification of times best forgot, and of a person who's better off being left to rot. I've screamed, I've shouted, I've sulked, and I've fought. Every day in this body is another day lost, never to be found until I end up deceased on the ground, iced over with the frost, or until this testosterone is replaced with estrogen. Estrogen, the chemical that will make me detest my body much less, make me my best self, but without it i don't know how long until im laid to rest.

Beneath me are the eggshells I've broken because you told me to walk on them. You signed and sealed my name in blood as the son you always loved. I am no husband, brother, father, son. I sold my individuality for safety untold, but as i grew older, the world around me grew colder, the pain inside I couldn't shoulder. My response was to be bolder, but at some point I just rolled over wishing everything would be over because the people i expected to fight alongside me shoved a dagger in my back because I dared to be too authentic to conform to who you thought I was, leaving me to die on the battlefield against my own dysphoria, signing and sealing my deadname in blood, Josh. But as my body grows cold as the blood will roll down my gouged armes from the broken mirrors and the dagger you shoved in my back as a hold. I take hold of the dagger and rip it out of my spine, I won't go down this time. Though it wont all be fine I will continue my climb. I'll push on through the muck and the grime. I'll rise to the top to give my eyes a sight to behold. You say I've lost my mind, I've just gained control. No, today will not be the day that I fold, I'll make sure my story will not go untold, I refuse to be melted and put into a mold, and I can do it all if I could just be bold!

I wont stay silent anymore.

Who am I?

I'm Jocelyn

Perfectly imperfect

[tuffacttofollow]

A boat ride with God.

Are my vices that important to me that they have to tag along with me everywhere I go? Because, you see, I can never face my imperfections if I just wish them away, or ignore them completely. Oh, they’re still there, sitting and waiting.. My only option is face them head on; to acknowledge those things as they are and get rid of it to save myself from ruin.

How could I possibly let something so negative tag along with me? Even on a boat ride with God... See we hang out all the time. Beside the still waters is our hangout spot .. a place of comfort and peace where I get a chance to thank him for his amazing grace and singing songs that he loves.

This time, He’s suggested we play a game of “catch and release” he says, to ward off boredom.. I’m the only one fishing of course because hey, He’s God and I’m just ... me. Let’s face it he doesn’t need the fish anyway, He’s the Great I Am LOL .. but this game is different from the normal C&R. God makes me a promise

“For every fish you catch, there’ll be double waiting for you back on land “

“WHAT? Aww this finna be a breeze “ I say as I kiss my teeth and fan him off in confidence.

“But there’s a twist you see. See these aren’t just any old fish , they’re the big fishes in your life. Every situation that’s left you teary eyed is embedded in each one and they’ll all be different in nature but still a fish nonetheles. Now I know this won’t be easy, but the good news is, I’ll be here when ya need me.”

He says with the cheesiest of grins as he leans back in his convenient jasper framed chair with THEE STRONGEST FIBERS of lambs wool for backing, which by the way looks way more comfortable than this cooler I’m sitting on but i digress. He reaches for a heavy book and places it in his lap and cracks its open as if to begin reading where He left off.

He sits back, and then abruptly leans forward as if he’s just had another genius idea. “You know what, After a few good catch and releases, To make the deal sweeter, if you can catch and release every fish you receive, you can have triple the amount back on land ..”

“Wheeeww !! This is NOT what I had in mind for today” I think to myself as annoyingly grab my bamboo fishing rod.

And outta nowhere he says aloud. “Girl! i can here you! Start fishing”

“OK!” I mockingly reply in my head.

Ok 1st fish wasn’t so tough ..

“ you should spend more time with your friends, “ the fish spoke as I reeled him into the boat. “ you’re so anti social. You dnt get out much and quite frankly .. “

Before I knew it I’d thrown him back as quick as he’d come up and glanced at God. He smiled.

“I wasn’t about to let him say my friends are more important than my time with you. I would never... “

He nods his head and continues on reading his gi-normous book

About 20 more fish come and go. And I let them all go with ease.

“I’ve got this” I say, dusting my hands off after tossing away yet another fish.

I continue on fishing and here comes another, after hours of waiting.

“Where’s your phone? You’ve been out here for hours. Your boyfriend must be trying to reach you... “

“You know what you might be right,” I say as I quickly place the fish in the cooler and begin to look around. As I search the boat for my phone, I find it laying right by God’s feet. I look up to him and we lock eyes. “Oh I know what this is” I say as I dump the fish back out into the water while keeping my eyes locked in His gaze. “Won’t. Get Me”

He smiles and nods. I continue to catch and release what had to have been hundreds of fish, or the same desperate talking fish a hundred times WHO KNOWS!

That is until a moment of stillness in the waters happens and for hours there’s not a fish to be caught.

“Well where are they ? I know you know!” I say to God..

“Oh they’re there, just wait” He replies without glancing up from his book.

And so I wait and I wait until I hear a faint humming sound approaching from the distance. It was a girl, riding in on a jet ski. I immediately notice that the waters her boat ripples through is the clearest of turquoise waters I’d ever seen in real life. And, funny, this girl looked oddly like me except .. she had this long silky-straight dark brown hair. And her body? UGH ! I mean did you have to where baby oil today? Somehow that darn baby oil just set me off because I just KNOW the sun was gonna help reflect her every single perfection, all the ones I didn’t have.

“Hey girl! What are you doing out here fishing? My friends rented a cabin not too far from here. You should join us.”

I glance at God and our eyes met. He didn’t say anything and I didn’t either. I turned to her and replied, “I’m good baby grl but thanks tho” I said, a bit grudgingly, as I felt God’s eyes burning through my SOUL.

“Well you won’t mind if I sit with y’all, huh?” She says, “My friends are all sleep back at the cabin. UGH they’re so lame! They just dont know how to have fun”

My ears perk up. Well what do ya know. I like to have my fair share of fun!

“That’s a tough crowd!” I replied. “Well you’d be in God, hmgh uh Good company tho”.. I look over to God who’s giving me the Nick-Young-Question-Mark face to, probably, the saddest pun he’s heard in a billion years .. I quickly turned my attention back to ole grl as I held back my laugh.

“Alright cool help me in” .. I grab her by the hand and carefully help her into the boat. As I’m doing so, I feel a sudden chill. Like the quick burst of cold you feel when someone shuts off a bright light. Almost like the warmth of God had left me. I looked and what do you know, God and his fancy jasper framed chair was gone..

But I don’t get it! He said He’d be here.. “Where’d you go God” I thought to myself.

In that moment, I started to panic. Almost like the time as a child when I’d go on a grocery run with my mom and I’d stop, for what seems like only seconds, to pick up a toy, only to look up find that my mom has disappeared. It’s probably one of the scariest few seconds you’ll endure as a child. The disappearance act that you weren’t ready for. The most panicked search you embark on, with the quickest of footsteps, as you call out her name, only to find her on the next aisle, waiting for you to catch up.

“I’m here.” I breathe a sigh of relief as I feel God’s sweet voice embrace my thoughts and calm my fears. “Remember what we talked about. Catch and release”

I thought “What? catch and release?” In utter confusion. “I haven’t seen a fish in over an hour now.. we are literally the only three living beings out here cuz there’s definitely no fish”

“Uh? Hello?” I hear two other voices say

“Jesus?! Help me Holy Ghost! You know what I meant. Charge it to my head and not my heart !” I say aloud, jokingly dragging each word like a Southern Baptist preacher.

“What was that?” Ol grl said

“Uhm,” I stall, “What’s your name again?“

And we talked and talked and she begins to feel like an old friend. Its like we’ve known each other all our lives. That is, until a question comes to me seemingly out of nowhere to ask her.

“So what have you got going for yourself? Since you’re out here just living your best life. I know you gotta be on to something? Tell me your secret“

And then something strange happens. I hear her utter something but it’s distorted like she trying talk to me under water. But she keeps talking normally as if what she’s saying is completely comprehensible.

“God, am i tripping or am i tripping tripping?” I think to myself. “Why can’t I hear her?“ I start to feel the world around me fade out as I wait for God’s answer.

And then I hear his soft, still voice say, “Some thing’s aren’t meant for you to hear, nor see.” His words fall on me like heavy bricks. I’m riddled with questions now. My emotions bubbled up so fast before I knew it I blurted out.

“So what IS meant for me to hear, huh? What’s meant for me to see? She’s a gorgeous young lady who happened to look exactly like me except for a few alterations, which I personally would’ve suggested for myself had I had the privilege of picking my own features but hey you’re the boss here.”

I’d become so lost in my emotion that I’d barely noticed that the girl suddenly was no longer there. Just gone.

“She looked so happy and carefree.”

“Ah see there’s the thing. Did you hear the word you used?” God said to me with a sense of “ah-ha” in his voice.

“And instantly I was in the Spirit, and I saw a throne in heaven and someone was sitting on it. The one sitting on the throne was as brilliant as gemstones—like jasper and carnelian. And the glow of an emerald circled his throne like a rainbow.

“Twenty-four thrones surrounded him, and twenty-four elders sat on them. They were all clothed in white and had gold crowns on their heads. From the throne came flashes of lightning and the rumble of thunder. And in front of the throne were seven torches with burning flames....

“In front of the throne was a shiny sea of glass, sparkling like crystal. In the center and around the throne were four living beings, each covered with eyes, front and back.

“The first of these living beings was like a lion; the second was like an ox; the third had a human face; and the fourth was like an eagle in flight. Each of these living beings had six wings, and their wings were covered all over with eyes, inside and out.

“Day after day and night after night they keep on saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty— the one who always was, who is, and who is still to come.”

“Whenever the living beings give glory and honor and thanks to the one sitting on the throne, The one who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down and worship the one sitting on the throne, the one who lives forever and ever.

“And they lay their crowns before the throne and say, “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.”

Revelations 4:1-11

And then I came to him. And all i could see was his brilliance and light and his love began to radiate through me as those words echoed in my mind like the vibrant sound of a high symbol in a stairwell.

For you created all things, and they exist only because you created those things which pleases you. I wouldn’t be here, had you not found pleasure in my presence.

As much as I hate to admit it, I brought my vices along with me that day. But I didn’t leave the same way I came. I faced it head on; acknowledged those things as they were and got rid of it to save myself from ruin because despite what I feel, comparison kills.