Follow Your Bliss
The Artist D
I had the most delightful dream last night. I grew up in a world where the checkout lady at the local corner store was a seven foot tall drag queen in a cat suit. I bought my groceries and went to the Post Office where the ancient man behind the desk was wearing a PVC body stocking. After purchasing my stamps I stopped by the local baseball diamond to watch the local fellows pitching and catching in public. The lady mowing the lower forty was wearing a three piece suit while humming along to Pavarotti on the iPod.
It was the most delightful dream where priests who worshipped quietly and the congregation loved each other without question. No gossips in the parking lot. Places of worship were erected out of the belief of spirit and not of a bank book. Oh no, there were no fees to pay to love the beloved Jesus, Mary, Joseph and their donkey too.
Children in school wandered the halls as they wanted. They were taught actual facts instead of fables created by the organizations under Big Brother. Wonderful enlightened passionate children with their punk doo’s and piercings-a-plenty. Perhaps most importantly in all of this ether were the school kids. It’s the children who can express the best but are shoved down the most.
The streets rang with people being people. There was no heavy drug use to push reality away because reality was beautiful. Drugs of the psychedelic kind were taken only to add more beauty. There were no sufferings of crise de foie [Ed. Note: agita, or more plainly — indigestion] over what Mrs. Kravitz next door thought, witnessed or overheard on the party line. Yes, there were party lines!
No one cared if a military recruit was a man, woman or both so long as they did the job. Countries didn’t give a care who their citizens had sex with, they were just happy that everyone was in love. Those citizens also respected movies as pieces of art and didn’t revolt if an unsavory actor played the part of their favorite superhero. “Coming out” didn’t exist either because everyone was out all the time without question.
My world is a dream world that has existed within me since birth. I was born into a world where I had no idea why anyone judged another based on their genetic undertones. In my dreams and in the reality that is my own brain I see no judgment of persuasions. This is all it really is when we get down to it. Persuasions of feeling one way or another, dressing a certain way and yearning to walk down the street being who we’ve always known ourselves to be.
The simplest demand is to be and yet it’s the most difficult thing to be. The simplest thing, yet it only exists in a dream.
The Artist D is executive editor of Fourculture Magazine. He is also unearthing the underground as host of The Fabulous D Show every Sunday night at 7 PM Eastern Time.
Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion
About the Author (Author Profile)
The Artist D is a true raconteur and provocateur! He has been performing online since the mid 1990s. A relic from the cam show age before MySpace was any space. Author of In Bed with Myself, an autobiographical tale of transgenderism and Internet celebrity. Executive Editor of Fourculture Magazine and host of the Kawfeehaus podcast.Subscribe
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