violetlighttruth

[violetlighttruth]

INT. SPANISH RESTAURANT

*a scene of a busy restaurant, Lei is running around seating people. A couple stand impatiently at the front. She forgot to make a reservation for their anniversary. She builds a table out of nothing for them to make it right. The whole time, the drunkest white woman she had met at this restaurant yet cannot stop talking to her about papas bravas*

CUT

WOMEN’s RESTROOM

*Lei slams stall door*

We find, Lei, sitting on the toilet.

- Super impose night at a boiler room set in Austin -in Lei takes in K into her nose. The music she listened to at home that her roommate made is playing instead of the tech house she ran away from after the bump.

- Súper impose is Interrupted by the drunk woman walking into a stall. We pan to see her kitten heels under the stall. She tried to go into Lei’s stall. Lei is crying.

- Super impose Quick flashbacks of the The Chaser sucking on her tits.

She’s trying so hard to forget this feeling after she grazes her breasts. She’s thinking about the sensation while heading the things he asked her to say.

Chaser Voiceover: tell me you that you like fingering me. please tell me.

Cut to close ups of the women’s vaginas wiping them with toilet paper. Superimposed with Lei putting on her gaff. Súper imposed with the vaginas she saw with her hometown best friend after the chaser called for her at 2 am after he had 2 glasses of wine.

Red Wine bottles in a blue lit-midnight balcony

Leí walks out of the restaurant passing the couple she let down at one point. They thank her.

EXT. Parking garage.

Lei (on the phone) - my chest hurts.

Sister - ay baby

Lei - I couldn’t stop thinking about how those women look at me. And I think about how it’s really hard to see how those men treat women who they take out on dates. How I couldn’t get him out of my head, and how disappointed I am that I let him in again. But I’m holding my house together so, so, tight, because I said he wouldn’t take away my roof again. I can’t. I’ve built these floors so many times, they’re strong. They’re really strong.

Scene with two sisters with the flu listening to her cry about heart break and then going through a SRS Reddit rabbit hole.

[violetlighttruth]

en mi cuerpo me empiezo a proteger, al principio era mucho miedo

[violetlighttruth]

topics of conversation were usually forgotten in the morning - if you had too much merlot. i got really crossed.

i'm awake and i remember talking to X about online dating. instead of offering actual insight, I turn into this ditty girl when I'm around him. i feel far from me, in this pursuit to love. i'm not mad nor depressed. i've just come to a crossroads.

he's the type of person who calls the shots. unavailable. easy to spook. i'm thinking of forfeiting.

no longer do I desire to be ditty. but is that all I've had with him. i became so entrenched in pseudo-love, i'm losing feeling of what's real. in terms, of like what I want. my friend described it as an extreme want of validation, which is not my definition of pure love.

X and many guys after him will not have the equipment and dictionary to love me. i guess part of dating while actively transitioning is feeling like the ground disappears sometimes. i'm on a roof in this city that is molding into different shapes as the sun continues to elevate.

all around me are jumbled projections of myself. some are completely mine and others a product of people I've come to know, like the ditty girl that asks X who X is dating. then the sun hit its peak and all my shit falls, including me (because the roof just vanishes).

my fall is cushioned by my sense of self. but things like ms. ditty fall on my face and cut ribbons through my arms and thighs

so how do I let go of those?

i fear without letting go, I'll have to leave him as a friend. my stomach hurts and I'm tired of living in such a place where for my foundation is unreliable.

no childhood to fall back on. a series of relationships forlorn. naming myself, dressing me, bathing me, calming me - I've had to.

but, in the process I"m getting to know a girl that wants to catch up so fucking bad. she's clawing, kicking water, screaming on roofts to catch up. i want a pussy.

but for now I feel like a jumble of body parts, mismatched.

so, i am not ashamed of how I relate to people. nor how I love them. because everyday I lose my footing and all I have is the choice to build a new floor.

she is a light - she is life. I've built new floors for her, she's realized her style. tight sometimes cropped tees. sometimes she wants to look like the girl from tomb raider (even though she hasn't played the game.) she cares about her relationships and it worries me at times how she loves. she's a force and sometimes gets angry when people ask her questions about her body.

she speaks with prupose when she can. she's working on it.

so i sit with her and impart a light - one containing her "incomprehensible love" that confused her immensely. especially, around boys. she contours it. paving her needs, likes,, pain points and outlined every nuance in red ink. the project reminds her of our capability to shape our love ourselves. not in a love spell way.

more so, only we know what serves us. how can i get frustrated with his inability to love me when he has no idea what my light looks like.

a bit premature, but i don't want to share my light with him.

[violetlighttruth]

she fathomed crossing the bridge with caloncho. it was exactly a six-mile long bridge and halfway it'd need to go up in flames. They forged a plan, one that had felt so long ago that she still believed it was never hers to have.

she met caloncho's eyes outside the bagel shop owned by two women that go by Judith Y Benita. Both has been formative in Caloncho's upbringing. They raised the boy after finding him outside of a yellow-lit liquor store at 19 with nothing but a notebook and a few packs of turquoise american spirits. she tried to see caloncho then, but in her attempted flashback, she only saw static.

she moticed how big caloncho's eyes were now. his words no longer felt like a language they shared, nor did she feel love for him.

finding him around this city in different positions, moods, and circumstances made her fall out of love. the night before crossing the bridge, caloncho slept on the floor. when he woke up , we locked eyes - his face looked like it did when we met.

stand-offish. as if someone had flicked him away from his bed multiple times in the night.

she couldn't sleep with him. nor kiss him, out of fear that her love for him would fuse out.

like a light-bulb that burst after being used for so long, what if the chance is all we get, she whispers to him .

caloncho stares at her for a long time. he has words to tell her, but he visibly chose to swallow them with his lox bagel. the words marinate in the raw pink salmon and she knows after this, she'd never see him again.

[violetlighttruth]

tired of you energy being thrown around like a ball on the court. pass her around. its critical to stay so strong like a rock that its gotten easier to feel like jam.

my skin feels pressingly warm. recently the breasts that have taken form on my chest continually burn

i miss my queerness. its locked up in the beads of sweat i dropped off at the warehouse rave. i miss kissing x.

and the way he pronounces the word "potent." in the most fitting situations. my brain revolvesa round the same scenarios.

X

its strange to settle in my body

especially after jumping off walls for so long. my body is stretching on the sides - growing on itself.

threatening to expand to lethal proportions - balancing between euphoria and dysphoria has bled into everything I do.

how i set up boundaries. how I speak to men. before these elements, I balanced masculinity and femininity.

now i'm no longer gauging my levels. I'm finding grounds outside the boundaries of a binary. i hopped around for so long.

people are awkward and i'm afraid i'm just like them.

its clear. if i chase the goal of cis-passing, i lose. i mean, in this world, I win (by their standards). But the walls I've grown at the intersection of my lungs and sternum have made it harder to accept that.

a world has materialized there. one, where I was 13 at 13, not at the age of 20.

[violetlighttruth]

cycles, habits, things i want to change

how i introduce myself to people. it's true. we all die. but how I'm remembered impacts how people feel at times. there's a lot going on - chaos - anxiety - fear- and I don't want to add on to that.

maybe i'm just insecure after a many introductions. i guess, i just don't want to meet people at parties.

seeing people the day after a late night.

my feelings - words - goals are all shaken up from the constant thump and lights.

i keep having to find a footing after and don't want to keep doing that constantly.

eat consistently - exercise more - and take my meds at a certain hour always.

*regulate your body and take care of it.

every time anxiety cycles start - do not

log on, work, call someone who you don't know, stay in bed (unless you haven't slept)

drugs and alcohol and sex with strange trade, the momentary escape opens to a much more dire place.

how defensive I get around my family. give them as much grace as you give those who have hurt you and your family loves you. Allow them to and share your true self in return // they've made space

listen to more radio. write more songs. short stores, mixes

read five books

build a shield - a selective one that blocks hurt only and do not let it interfere with love

leave *** with more

a. b(****)

take more photos/videos (invest/borrow camera)

BPM zine

think i'm not enough, i am beautiful, smart, kind and have visions

[violetlighttruth]

no quiero verte mas sufrir . mas llorar . 

tu no mereces que te traten como un jugete. 

jamas pudiera perdonar esa gente 

por ser mi amante 

somos amantes 

[violetlighttruth]

march 2022

i missed goth jafar tonight. 

[violetlighttruth]

august 29 2022 - 2:23 pm 

living as a girl, my emotions are a lot more extreme and in this thought, i think about the pressure to love and enjoy. 

in my heightened sadness, tears, anger, and joy - i think about people’s pressure to love everything. 

love their job. love their friends. love their music. themselves. their homes. what if we allowed ourselves to dwell in the things we hated. 

or maybe just let ourselves be okay with something or someone -- no need for extreme loving or enjoyment. 

i think about the in between. 

I mean when we’re okay or hate something - we’re forced to move, and unbuild. 

not necessarily a bad thing. i guess I just don’t want to run right away. 

let me see the parts I hate. let me see. let me sit. let me not constantly pursue what I love, but may I also return to it with more appreciation and love. 

I guess - i’m just tired of always having to love. 

[violetlighttruth]

sleep paralysis

i had sleep paralysis every time I returned to my room in laredo, texas. 

so i stripped the walls. Put up every music machine in place. Video games. Skirts. White nautica boxers that outlined my ass. Strewn across my neck was “big sis” in metallic letters. 

I ran, really, really far and I’m alive. 

Despite. Despite.

Now all of yesterday is a stranger. A stranger I slept with, one I’ve nurtured. 

It’s a stranger, I’ve been. 

It’s like a time warp almost - in my head.  I freeze in my sleep. I freeze inside the oxymoron of my roles in this room. 

So I stripped them., and now all I see is absolutely nothing. I like it, a lot.