Gender is pretty crazy. I don't know what all I'm going to write on this page, really? I want to write some longform thoughts on gender, but so often those are just spoken in the moment, in conversations. They're not the kinds of things that sound nearly as good when written out. They exist in dialogue with people. Just like gender does, really!

I will probably put up some quotes and things about gender that I read and that touch me. I don't know where these would be, though! I may have to go through my tumblr and look at poetry and quotes, read some different writers like Butler and Feinberg, reread the Butch/Femme things I read..

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And though I am sheepish about wanting something so self-serving, I also want to play. I want to have my way with gender before it has its way with me, lead it around by the shorthairs, tease it, and then do—and have—exactly what I want anyway, each and every time.

S. Bear Bergman, ‘Why I’m Not A Nice Young Man (Yet)’, Butch is a Noun

But Sir is a man, and I am a butch. I am willing to be a man for a while, when it’s convenient or safe or pleasant, but inevitably I want to be able to coo inanely at little children and not have their mothers come and grab them away. I want to go and see my mechanic and confess without an ounce of shame that something is the matter and I haven’t the faintest idea what it might be. I want to be seen in the world as safe instead of strong, I want to hold hands and cry. I want to order girly blender drinks all summer long and use a restroom that has a passing chance of some remote acquaintance with cleaning products in its recent past, and perhaps most of all I want to be queer, visibly queer, several bubbles off gender and tilting fast. I want the outlaw I am to get a public hearing, a public viewing, and to have a chance to speak for hirself.

S. Bear Bergman, ‘Why I’m Not A Nice Young Man (Yet)’, Butch is a Noun

I just want to be a big dog in the yard.

S. Bear Bergman, ‘Walking With Girls’, Butch is a Noun

I think everything is drag. The fact that somebody, a man wakes up in the morning and shaves and they get their hair cut and they get rid of their grey and they put the boots on and the jeans–that’s drag. Your drag is to face the world, it’s your uniform, and this is my uniform. You know, hundreds and thousands of years ago, men were the ones that wore these things and it’s like now it’s not acceptable, you’re supposed to be all macho and… it’s just really sad that men are so trapped. It’s really sad. I see men and I think "You know what, you could have such fun." and it’s your friends and your girlfriend and they’re all cramping your style and you’re gonna be on your deathbed and you’re gonna say "If ONLY I’d worn a wig and some high heels just ONCE."

Pete Burns of Dead or Alive

I remembered once, in Japan, having been to see the Gold Pavilion Temple in Kyoto and being mildly surprised at quite how well it had weathered the passage of time since it was first built in the fourteenth century. I was told it hadn’t weathered well at all, and had in fact been burnt to the ground twice in this century. “So it isn’t the original building?” I had asked my Japanese guide. “But yes, of course it is,” he insisted, rather surprised at my question. “But it’s been burnt down?” “Yes.” “Twice?” “Many times.” “And rebuilt.” “Of course. It is an important and historic building.” “With completely new materials.” “But of course. It was burnt down.” “So how can it be the same building?” “It is always the same building.” I had to admit to myself that this was in fact a perfectly rational point of view, it merely started from an unexpected premise. The idea of the building, the intention of it, its design, are all immutable and are the essence of the building. The intention of the original builders is what survived. The wood of which the design is constructed decays and is replaced when necessary. To be overly concerned with the original materials, which are merely sentimental souvenirs of the past, is to fail to see the living building itself.

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the same way i dont really 'do' euphoria and dysphoria these days is the deal with gender envy. i get it sometimes, but its more a vibe of like. oh yeah goals! though sometimes it really does hit a deep place of yearning. but i think a lot of it comes to like - i dont want to *be* the person because i already am that person, its just an img that describes my own gender to me in a visible way :) its fun making my gender visible, but people observing it or not doesnt mean its not what i am. im still femme even if im not dressed femme.

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