Moon Memo-9 Years
2025-07-02-Moon Mem\
Moon Memo-9 years
Hello from work, where I'm doing a quick update just because I'm trying to look busy while I'm working, and am in fact doing nothing but what I want. Sometimes, you have to steal from work. You have to give yourself the ability to be your own human being and not someone else's. Even in non profit. Even when the mission is there.
My depression and dysphoria seem to have dissipated a bit.
9 years
We were laying in bed, tangled together after our orgasms. The sheets of my bedroom were disentangled from the mattress, dripping wet under us with sweat and lube and a little bit of cum.
"You're dribbling again!" She said, smiling sweetly at me. She has seen the rising and falling of the tide of my cum, from fountain to nothing to this dribble that has returned. I pull her against my chest, squeeze her ass, my fingers searching to return to the wetness of her.
9 years ago, I'm sitting in an apartment, surrounded by girls, and it's Channukah, and I think I'm the only boy there. New to trans world, asking all my questions quietly, trying not to take up space. She is 2 hours late. She comes in a whirlwind of blue hair and womanhood. (She told me later that her girlfriend had warned her ahead of time about me. "She doesn't know she's a girl yet." I laugh at that now. That poor egg).
And it's a few months later, and I'm sitting in my apartment in a week long panic. I have thrown out all of my trousers, and I'm wearing a skirt full time. I have shaved my beard. I am going to do this. But I haven't left the apartment yet. And she's texting me saying "it's ok if you don't want to, but I want to see if you want to meet me at a comic book store and watch Jay Ediden talk about the X-Men." So I grab a bus and go. She is there waiting. It may be the last time she's been early for anything.
And it's a year later, and we've dated a while. I don't know how sex works yet. I'm still shy, and I'm still not sure of my body. And we break up and lose track and meet up again, as we girls do.
And it's 2 years ago. And death has come for us. Our hero has killed herself while visiting home in texas. And we are at a sex club, and we are fucking like our lives depend on it, that our bodies demand it, that we want to feel our bodies, that we want to be alive in our bodies. And we pinky swear we will stay alive, not do this to each other, not to leave each other behind.
And it is Monday. I'm showing her youtube videos, and she's sharing the DC and Marvel pride jams. And we love each other. Because that's how women are. We love each other when it feels like no one else will. When we feel lonely, we know we have each other. And while we are not girlfriends, and may never will be again, I will love her for the rest of my long, silly, ridiculous, beautiful life. And vice versa.
Some Quotes
Let's click the random note generator for some notes, shall we?
Maybe He already has (sent the flood). Maybe we're already in the post-Flood recovery. Some days it feels like that. Some days it feels like the life-hating, joy-destroying claptrap we've had to endure has passed its high-water mark and is receding.
-Gordon White talking about the current end of the world.
What war is
War, according Arthur Ponsonby, "is a monster born of hypocrisy, fed on falsehood, fattened on humbug, kept alive by superstition, directed to the death and torture of millions, succeeding in no high purpose, degrading to humanity, endangering civilization and bringing forth in its travail a hideous brood of strife, conflict and war, more war."
Why we talk about things being bad
Part of the reason I like to talk about how things are bad is that it is very frustrating to grow up where we cannot admit that things are bad. Part of the reason I like the Beach Boys also. Spirituality and optimistic force as function of great violence and compression, the production of diamonds
I think having a good day in the wasteland first requires you to know and admit you are in the wasteland. From there the pleasures that yet endure in the wasteland follow
Jeanne Thornton
The Gnostics called the ultimate nature of God Bythos, or Depth—as in an ocean or abyss. Understanding of this ultimately incomprehensible reality might require passage through a personal abyss wherein opposites might meet head-on, rendering helpless mere reason’s dependency on binary distinctions, as opposites are transcended through mystical congress. One would not see the light until one had experienced the darkness. The miraculous spirit gave new eyes, and thus the means to new art.
Tobias Churton
Outro
It's fireworks eve. I'm off for 3 days. I'm ready for a break. I want to drink cold drinks in the yard, and sleep in. And drink coffee with friends during the weekend. I'm happy. I'm glad to be alive. I hope you are happy to be alive.
Love and stuff,
Misha Lynn Moon