Everything Under Veru's Sun

I can't wait for my fingerless gloves to come through the mail. I ordered them last week, and they were expected to arrive either today or tomorrow. I don't have them yet, unfortunately. I could've used it with the cold weather and all. But I shall await it with patience.

I bought two pairs. One leather pair with an open space on the back of the hand for ventilation. Perfect for indoors and warmer weather. They look so cool too! And also a knitted pair that is more like actual gloves except, well, fingerless. Those will be for colder weather like now and when I'm in my apartment while it's freezing. (I'm afraid to dial up the heating thermometer because I'm on a budget here.) I can layer clothes just fine, so my torso and feet will be warm and cosy (I'll just get a blanket for my legs when at home), and but that leaves my hands to get cold. They've been cold for a week now and I hate it.

Younger me didn't buy a lot of things that I got excited about. Partly because I wasn't sure what would make me happy (general teenage uncertainties, lack of role models, poor perception skills to observe others' happy things, and of course, a skedaddling gender), and partly because I was afraid what others would think of me if they found out. I didn't buy my items and clothes to feel good. I bought them to be functional, period. But lately I've been leaning more into "let's fuck around and find out" and I have a clearer picture of myself than before (still got a lot of work to do of course, but you get what I mean). Still no role model, but I take inspirations from the people I admire from a distance or online. Sometimes I come up with random things on my own too. And now that I've done some things that made me genuinely happy or excited every time I think about it, I don't want to go back to before. Once a newborn has drawn its first breath, it does not (and should not, if healthy) want to return to a non-breathing state. Life's too short to cut it even shorter.

P.S. I didn't mean to write a whole paragraph turning a light-hearted post into some exploration of my psyche. But here we are now. This has happened a lot in the past, be it during a simple conversation with friends or in my paper journal, so I guess that's just how it's gonna go. I'd even dare to bet my digital honour on the introspection tag becoming the most used one in the future, or at least coming second place to the daily life shenanigans. Anyone dare to bet differently?

Today was a rainy day. And I absolutely love rain! Especially when there's mist or warm humid air afterwards. But I don't like it when it's cold and I'm supposed to go outside and actually get wet myself. I like it more when I get to watch everyone else get soaked while I'm comfortable inside with a hot beverage. So to go easy on myself, I took the bus instead of cycling all the way to campus.

The day was quite unremarkable, if not for two things. The first thing was when I ran into my mutual friend's friends on the bus and had a brief chat about some really odd hippie kind of professor (such a lovable dork though). One of those friends started the conversation asking me for my pronouns (I don't quite look like the typical cismasc nor cisfem person) and it was the first time since getting my new haircut that someone asked me my pronouns in person. I'm already used to it online, but that's because you have literally nothing at first except the other person's profile picture. Real life is something extra, at least to me. So this event felt really affirming.

The second thing was also related to how people (struggled to) read my gender, except... it was really awkward this time. I was on the bus home and it was pouring so much outside. Then this old lady took the empty seat next to me, saw my rainbow pin on my jacket and looked at my hair, which is more socially acceptable for the opposite sex, and I don't know what was going on in that lady's mind but I know it immediately screamed "TRANS PERSON". Basically she assumed I was trans and totally okay with her rambles about some pride boat on national TV while she referred to me with exclusively the "right" pronouns (a.k.a. the wrong ones, because I prefer they/them, but of course why would she bother to ask me), even pausing to add extra emphasis to comments like "young ladies/gentlemen like you".

Now, I'm not against being read as genderqueer or as the opposite sex. But damn... did she really have to assume my gender, even if I don't look cis? Aren't assumptions a big deal we're trying to avoid with gender inclusion, so we don't unintentionally and/or actively misgender people? If I were someone else, like an actual trans person, this lady woul've totally rubbed it in my face even more that I did not yet pass as the desired gender, even if that was not her intention. If I were just a person who identified as their biological sex, those overly emphasised comments probably would've made me feel uncomfortable too. I appreciate her efforts and (hopefully) good intentions, especially since she grew up in the times when this was still taboo or a genuinely alien concept to nearly everyone. But still. Her in-your-face attitude made it so awkward. Needless to say, I quickly searched for a way to escape the "conversation", which was by leaving the bus three stops early and waiting in the pouring rain for the next bus.

It showed me once again that there are two types of people: those who want to genuinely understand (like those mutual friends on the bus), and those who think they already know everything and only seek confirmation (like the old lady). I like the former far more, and strive to be that person who doesn't assume but always learns new cool things, despite (or because) holding different opinions. But I also cannot deny the latter is still a very felt presence in the room, regardless of opinion or political/social "camp".

You know how in some first-person video games you can’t see your own avatar’s body when you look down, only the hand(s) and whatever those are holding? Well, on a mental level, particularly involving emotions, I relate to that. In social situations I tend to be expressive of my emotions, more emotion than I myself am aware of at all. I can see my “hand” but not my “player model”.

I mentioned emotional impermanence in my intro post, I think, and that’s because I can’t recognise any emotion other than the one currently experienced (or perceived in others)(note that I’m not saying it causes me to feel only one emotion at a time, because I am well aware that I, and others, feel more than one thing at a time, but I just can’t tell them apart or perceive them at the same time). Well, this emotional impermanence also plays a large role when I’m trying to get a grasp on myself and how I’m perceived emotions-wise; I myself only notice a small part of the whole, but everyone else sees a lot more. Or at least it feels like that. (Or maybe I just feel like I’m “made of glass” and everyone can see right through my fucking soul, I’ll explain better in a future post that is currently still a rough draft.)

And when I try to use tools to get a better idea of myself, like a therapist or journal or just a good friend I can have this conversation with – a metaphorical mirror – then intellectually I know there’s supposed to me a metaphorical reflection that shows at least the surface of my emotions, but I still don’t see it myself. It’s like I’m a vampire looking in the mirror, emotions-wise. And to be honest, it’s not great, LOL. All it has brought me so far is constantly upsetting my parents and being inadequately equipped to resolve conflict with my friends. Or maybe there’s more stuff happening, like a subtext that I can’t read. Or maybe I’m just overthinking…

I don’t know where I’m going with this post… But if you’ve made it this far through, then congrats, you have caught a glimpse of what is happening inside my mind – or rather: what is lacking there.

I got so embarrassed today… My brain flunks the memory of people’s names sometimes, particularly the ones that appear in my daydreams. I don’t know why but my mind does weird things when I’m daydreaming. But anyway, I was just taking a mental detour from reality, and I found myself spectating a European “character” needing to sort out American cash money. And I know there was this American president on the 1 USD bills, I just couldn’t remember the name. So I – and instead of thinking it in my head, I somehow said it out loud – I blurted out, “One dollar is Jurgen Washmachine”. OUT LOUD. With my FAMILY IN THE ROOM.

Gods, I am ready to disintegrate on the spot.