Why bright red is a transfem story
Ok so like im durnk and wrote this up so like fuck you dont judge
me but also judge the shit out of it idk fuck. I'm just writing
and like i wrote this in one go and havent edited anything so
idk it may be hot shit or it may be a hot shit. have fun i guess. Its pretty fucking binary, but like im pretty binary and idk like how the fuck could i even pretend to speak to/for a nonbinary experience?
(Edit: i cant ~~descide~~ figure out if this is a shitpost or an effortpost so like idk you tell me)
also like CW for abuse/dysphoria/just the shitty aspects of being
trans i guess idk pull this down if its not appropriate or
anything idk.
Did she fall or was she pushed?
did the little girl fall down? or was she pushed down by
patriarchal systems? With this line Laurie Anderson speaks to
the early age emotional neutering that young boys and
presumed-boys go through. The young girl is falling, but is she?
or was she pushed down by patriarchy, cisnormativity, and the
refusal to acknowledge her as a girl?
Your shirt on my chair
Your shirt on my chair
These lines speak to the idea of another persons clothing being
on ones own self. Wearing another set of clothes, keeping them
on the chair, but not in the closet. They are here, and in use,
but they are not her. They are foreign, perhaps protective in
the way that a 'boyfriend-shirt' is protective. Protective in
that they keep her safe from the beatings, the mocking, the
derision and abuse, the calls of 'just kill yourself'. It is
also threatening - theres another person here, and all you see
is their shirt. This speaks to the dissociation and
depersonalization that so many trans people go through.
I'll be with you. I'll be there
This line reinforces the above, that the shirts owner, a fake
person built to protect her will be there, protecting.
I'll never leave you
This line speaks to the experiences of growing up as a closeted
transfemme person never being removable from ones being. They
will never leave her, they are a part of her.
Your shirt on my chair
and we return to the idea of the shirt on her chair, there, but
not in her closet. Present, used, but not hers. protective but
oppressive. dissociated.
Come here little girl. Get into the car
It's a brand new Cadillac.
Bright red.
Come here little girl\
The little girl is getting into the car, the western cultural
symbol of masculine obsession. Of the freedom to go wherever you
want. But only if theres a road. This represents the priviledge
associated with being male presenting, the ability to go wherever
you want, that freedom, but its predicated on there being a road
to drive on; true freedom in that sense comes from ones own two
feet. This speaks to the way society tells men that they can be
everything, as long as they stay on the road.
This symbol, so associated with the husband neglecting his wife
for his car. It represents the chains that come with a
gender identity that one does not have, that is forced upon our
protagonist. Not only the husband neglecting his wife, but the
woman neglecting her womanhood for the safety of masculinity.
The Cadillac is bright red, the color of blood, shed
metaphorically in the pursuit of staying safe in a deeply
cisnormative transphobic world, and literally in the form of
beatings and assaults designed to punish her for not being a cis
man, and additionally also the literal blood spilled during
surgeries. Come here little girl, you will be harmed, you will be
driven away in the bright red cadillac.
Hey! Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Your despair in my heart. Bright red
Your words in my ears
I'll be with you. I'll be there. I'll never leave you\
These lines speak to the realization, the internal confrontation
of seeing onesself and knowing and accepting that one is trans.
The despair of knowing that initial panic of 'oh fuck im trans'.
The recognition that its been this way all along. haven't I
seen you somewhere before? yes, as a child, before she was
forced into hiding, before the femininity was beaten out of her.
The recognition of all that blood, bright red, metaphorical and literal,
that was shed to get to this point. The whispers and words in her
ear, telling her what to say, how to act, which person to be.
Somewhere along the way there is an inversion, it is no longer
the man saying he will be with her, to protect her, but it is
her saying, that no matter whether she embraces her transness or
not she will always be there, she will never leave.
Wild beasts shall rest there
And owls shall answer one another there
And the hairy ones shall dance there
And sirens in the temples of pleasure\
The wild beasts, representing the untamed and unbridled emotion
and turmoil of existing outside of the societal scripts and in
such an incredibly wild way. The owls answering one another,
trans people reaching out to each other in the night, in the
dark, where the burning eyes of hateful society cannot see. The
hairy ones dancing, unashamed. And the sirens of the temples of
pleasure, calling one towards them, towards the pleasure of
knowing onesself, of being whole, of being able to engage with
the world and with yourself as you were meant to. And of the
pleasure of being able to have sex without dissociating. It is a
temple, a prayer process. How many trans women have lain awake
at night praying to god that they turn into a girl come morning?
And the process of transition, it is a prayer, a prayer to ones
own body, ones nerves and fat and muscle. The body once
dissociated slowly knowing pleasure. Not in a sexual manner (although
also that) but in the manner of just being able to exist without
it hurting, without needing to numb everything to the point of
non existence.
Your shirt on my chair
I'll be with you. I'll be there. I'll never leave you
Your shirt on my chair\
Finally we return, to our protector, who will always be there in
some way or another. Whose experiences and guidance have shaped
our protagonist, and helped get her where she is today. He will
always be a part of her. Your shirt on my chair. Here, but not
permanently. The shirt is all thats left, a reminder of what was,
but not permanent, not put away in the closet, in the dresser.
She can protect herself now. She doesnt need him, and so all thats left is his shirt on her chair.
Ok thats the whole thing idk i maybe remove cause embarrass like most things i do when drunk i regret so maybe this one tooooooo????
we deserve to feel ok in our bodies, they are our homes we deserve to feel safe and secure and comfy in them.
shits rough...
i want my body to look normalll i just want to feel at home in it 
). Shes says that its all just the automatic processing her brain does, but doesnt think that automatic processing is actually how she sees me. So i guess what she thinks isnt representative of what she thinks??? Like I get it, its hard to recontextualize ones view of another, but the automatic responses are the most telling, they show how you automatically gender me, and those responses are meaningful, not "oh just automatic so we dont need to worry about them and theyre not representative of how I see you". Guess my mothers an idealist and a 
, but we knew that already.
And iiiii kissed america, when she was fleecing meeeeee,
Sheeeee knows i understand, that she needs to be free,
An iiiiii miss america, and sometimes she does too,
And soooooommmmeetimes i think of her, when she is fucking you.