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Love Song #562

It says a lot about the weight I’ve had to carry
That I’ve only just had the time to idle long enough to remember
It’s been a whole month since we last were a part of each others lives
I’m not surprised to find I’ve been left on read this whole time since then
It’s our insignia to leave something like this so open ended
I guess you saw this like a pit stop less a reunion
Two satellites converging on their trajectory for a weekend
Before going their separate ways until the next time fate gravitates them
I’m not gonna act like I’m shocked by it at all
But I’m not gonna act like it didn’t sting a little bit either

To think of the sincerity of what you told me that night
With the kind of grin that comes from exploring a new life in your palms
But with the familiarity of slipping back onto an old coat
To think your happy to just walk away from all that
Cos for you it was just another night
Thinking about it gets me misty eyed if I’m being honest with you

But I am a satellite first and foremost
And my destiny doesn’t lie with waiting on your trail
Cos when I returned to my soil it was instantaneous
The cries of my brothers, sisters and siblings
The ones who share all the corners of my make-up
Were all I could hear even behind my headphones
I didn’t even get a chance to take off my boots
But already I got an obligation to my people

Cos they’re trying to survive under the crosshairs of society
Each and every star in my city struggling to burn brightly
Anyway I can help guide their way, that’s the reason I’m still on this rock
To share this pain and bring them all with me as I raise higher
Cos if I’m doomed to wait for heaven on earth
Then I reckon this isn’t a bad use of my precious time

Still, I think about how you won’t join me and my breathing gets heavier
The callous ways of the cisgendered will be a mystery to me I suppose
But I’m grateful I got to lie with you for one more night again
It gave me a reminder of what love is supposed to look like:

The ease of it, the flowing dialogue, the little moments of contact
An DIY chicken sandwich lunch, letting the time get away from us
The passionate rants 3 glasses of Preseco in
Pound store Christmas lights illuminating the room
As you enthusiastically get reacquainted with the nuances of my body
Only to get flustered at the puzzle of my belt buckle
No vague mysteries or foggy clues: You just want me.
And that’s the most wanted I’ve ever felt in a decade my friend

So now I’m back in my local with the next romance in the queue
When he tries to sell me a tertiary association
As a romance of the same calibre
I’ll remember our night during January 2019
And I’ll see past the contexts and the politics
And remember love doesn’t have to feel this empty

BPD, Abandonment and Accessibility

[ CW Mental Health BPD suicidal self harm ]

So I’ve been wondering what to say for #WorldMentalHealthDay it’s an odd thing I’m so open about my mental health and the intersections of issues between mental health and everything else it can be hard to know what to even talk about today. But I guess in the same way everyone talking about their mental health AT ALL is radical for them, maybe I should be open about sides of mental health I’m maybe more shy about. I wanna talk about my BPD and abandonment complex. But not in an empowering way, I just wanna vent so maybe people can understand

I’ve been struggling so much recently, as you all know I’ve gone from basically being isolated from everyone to having an actual queer family and network in relatively little time and I’m struggling with that. A lot is said about BPD folks always being afraid of people abandoning them, but no one every says how frequently these fears turn out to be true and no one says how much it hurts.

Every time I experience abandonment in some way it hurts. Not just hurts it’s a specific hurt my brain remembers and recalls every time. It’s the same intense hurt I felt the day my mother died, for those who know that bereavement recall that pain, for those who don’t try and imagine how devastating the feeling is as your mu is carried out of your house in a coffin in your teenage years. Now imagine that feeling constantly coming back, weekly and at times: Daily

Not via huge flashbacks mind, just from little interactions. The friend you thought you were getting to know suddenly being absent. Someone you’re speaking to suddenly giving you the cold shoulder. Something as small as that: The feeling comes back and it’s really THAT intense. Imagine that, imagine that life, cos that’s my life baayybbee. This is before we get into faux pas in more intimate relationships, espec with the wild west that is Polyamory where you can have a good rapport for someone and someone better then you can come along and: It’s over. The feelings comes back then and it doesn’t leave for a month, i’m supposed to pressure on with work and uni and life while feeling that. That is the worst part of BPD, to be punished so aggressively by yourself for mundane social interactions where no one’s to blame. There’s nothing to attack it from. It just is.

And like…. What am I gonna do? Tell the friends/partners in question I feel this way? And what? Get accused of emotional manipulating people as every BPD person is when they try to assert their feelings in any way shape or form? No you can’t, I learnt that fucking good and proper from my last relationship, if BPD folks stand up for themselves, your friends and partners will order ‘Walking on Eggshells’ on Amazon and weaponize your feelings against you, gaslight and abuse you. So you just have to sit on your feelings and when the self harm scars start propping up again just shrug and go “That’s the way it is”
Relationships, weather they be platonic or romantic, are not accessible for people like me

That sentence there ☝️ is how I’ve started to think about all this recently. Like it doesn’t have to be a case of suffering in silence and this be a proper I internalise and deal with myself. What if it CAN be viewed as an issue of accessibility? Then it was tackled in a similar way? I’ve been brainstorming ways to make an effort to try and advocate for myself and make my relationships more accessible. If I need accessibility is it not then a reasonable adjustment to ask someone for full disclosure on how they feel about me? Or for romance what their intention is with me?

I can already see the hurdles here. I’m autistic I already know people are gonna be sour about such an approach, espec romantically where we have a weird obsession with the ‘unsaid’ as this romantic trope. But fuck that I legit can’t deal with that and it’s fine! I’m going to make an effort to ask disclosure of people in the future, as awkward as it may be. There’s no established etiquette for this, it’s gonna be WEIRD but I wanna try it and maybe for the people I know it’ll be normalised.
That’s tough in another way, it requires both a level of trust that you have to take people’s responses at face value and believe them (So fucking hard) and a level of self assurance that you’re worth these extra adjustments when interacting with people. When you’re told you’re an other: Ugly, Grim, Undesirable, A gobshite, pyscho and ‘high maintenance’ your WHOLE LIFE it can be hard to wield that confidence. But I know it’s something I gotta do

I mean that’s kinda it honestly? I guess I just want to lay that done and say, if people with mental health issues are asking for these adjustments when speaking to you, if you care about that person just friggin do it lmao it takes so little and it means so much to us. We’re already putting ourselves at risk by subverting such a established way of being, like please help make our interacting with the world more accessible. From the autism side I’m deffo gonna start carrying meltdown cards and the like, there’s nothing wrong with asserting that the world should be more accessible for you.

And They/Them Undid It All

[ CW: Transphobia, Ableist slurs ]

To think all it took was They/Them
Two single syllables was all it took to dismantle a timeline
They/Them vetoes years of our time
It still leaves me shook how abrupt the effect was
You couldn’t even bring yourself to hold me
As I mourn on the anniversary of my mother’s passing

They/Them undoes holding my hand down Forrest
Comparing our spoils from the capsule machines
People watching from the park benches
They/Them undoes trying to squeeze in time
During a school night hiding in Gratham’s backstreets
With your hands up my shirt, cigarette in mouth
They/Them undoes kissing the back of your neck
All the way down to your backside
While illuminated by the Itallian sun
People tell it’s been far too long to still be mad about it

You’re damn right, it’s been a year and a half and I’m still mad
I tried to sit on these feelings to get this verse just right
But time after time I find, that I just get more mad
When it dawns, all the little ways you’re still hurting me
Cos last night when I walked towards you at Royal Centre
Was the same night I couldn’t reach out to the woman I adore
She was calling out for me under the fluorescent lights
I couldn’t bring myself to lend her an ear

All because of the things you taught me during our time
That you can’t trust when someone says they care for you
That everyone’s love for you is conditional
That people can look you dead in the eye
Spin a lie that you’re the one that makes them high
Only to find out they were seeing through you the whole time

What ever happened to our time huh?
What happened to me being a consideration huh?
What happened to splitting the bill for the wine
On Autumn nights in central London
As you look me in the eye and tell me
How you thought it was so sad I didn’t see a future for myself
That you wanted to give me one yourself
That you wanted to have my kids one day
That you didn’t want to see a future without me
Fuckin’ They/Them undoes all of that huh?

So sorry about upending all our plans
Yeah it matters you won’t respect that I’m trans
Taking out all your bullshit out on me
Just because you never learned any tolerance
We’re not here to take the bullet for you
Just cos you wanna stay in the closet
Just cos you don’t wanna process your dysphoria
Yeah I wash my hands of it, it’s not my problem anymore
Die a miserable cis women for all I care
I could’ve talked you through it
Could’ve talked you through all your feelings
We could’ve started you on your best life
But you wanna destroy that you see in yourself
As you’d rather stop anyone from being themselves
Just cos you don’t wanna admit your own feelings

Well fuck you, I’m not gonna downplay myself
I’m a nonbinary, traumatised, gay as fuck spastic
I’m at full power now, I’m not gonna be quiet
I’ve never been happier in my own skin
I found the family who takes care of me
I found the lover who sees the enby in front of them
To which They/Them makes us stronger
Meanwhile you’re stuck lying about your life
I pray this is the last thing I ever write about you
I just recall you like a cringe schoolyard anecdote
Cos you’re a disgrace to the culture
A disgrace to Polyam folks
A disgrace to Kiwi’s worldwide
A disgrace to Autistics everywhere
I’m embarrassed I ever knew your transphobic ass
Fuck. You.

Sebastian Noël

Lied Too – Part 3 (No Pleasure)

Just passing the 26 mark not even a month ago
And I’m still finding tendrils in my jacket pockets
Once belonging to a plot so devious
Belonging to that despicable demon
Baiting us with nostalgia and elation
To make us return to life we abandoned

Asmodeus truly a world class con man
Got me believing I derive pleasure
From a process that’s got me reeling
Coming home with new scars, asking when’s next time
And these ain’t scars of love, they dictate damage
Not to pigments, but to the soul

Been tricked into thinking I was hungry
Getting fed just brings the bile to the surface
Maybe I don’t admit but I think I time travel
Like to pretend our first time is our hundredth time
Roleplay that I never lost 3 years of loving
In a hurry to speed to that level of trusting
But was it ever about feeling good? Gotta wonder
Does it ever feel good when it’d stir nothing in them
To learn you’ve sped to the grave the next day
Starting to question if it ever felt good
Well I spose once upon a time, back when it was a product
Of surrendering your entire life force in your love
Cos they earned it, with good care of your soul
You could end up in the centre of hell one day
And you know they’d be striking a deal with Beezlebub
To get your ass back in the land of the living
Only then did it feel good, but it don’t feel good no more

Getting sick of exposing my pulse to the kind of villains
Who’d treat me like an afterthought
Desecrate my temple to chase a resource
But I’m no better, I was a loyal servant of Asmodeus
All performative, hoping I could make you see stars
Make your walls pulsate as you elevate
Crossing my fingers for a 5 star review
Getting a leg in the hetronormative game
They about ready to count an autistic youth out
Doomed to fade into the bottom of the social status
Only to be given a lifeline by sexuality
But how long did I think it’d last?
No way you’ll earn respect from anyone
If you don’t respect yourself enough, to stop lying to yourself
You’re no man, or woman and that’s a new meta
Where these talents don’t lead to anything
So you destroy yourself on the frontlines in vain
Just to top up your trauma

Like going cold turkey, I’d go peculiar without it
Paranoid it was a sign love was running out
It’s absence is evidence that your love was getting sour
That she saw you stale, attractiveness going repugnant
But that just proves, like I say, it got performative
A must, no longer a want, desperation over passion
Kicking myself it took too long to recognise devotion
It’s the late nights talking through your suffering
It’s the understanding that they keep you in their thoughts
That stress when your feeling down and out
That little effort to brighten your day
That unannounced expression on your darkest days
You didn’t have to remind them it was an anniversary
Of your momma, god bless her, leaving this world
They just remembered and had the take out ready
Candle lit picnic, over co-op on the PS2

A exact copy of the energy you’ve always been willing to give
Maybe it’s time to start asking for it back?
And after time, when you let them into your life
When they’re a consideration in your future plans
Maybe it’ll start to feel good again
Maybe it’s time to make people earn it again

Sebastian Noël

Lied Too – Part 2 (Love Song #561)

I suspect fiction, a diabolical coup by Asmodeus
To strike me with a bitter doses of nostalgia in my psyche
At the worse time imaginable to debilitate me
Exams creep closer, as I’m drowning in the cognitive sea
Hoping to entice me back into his ranks
By reminding me out good that first hit felt
But why is it we allow that poison into our bodies?
Cos I wanna feel like a new day in a past life is a possibility
Like that final season, always promised but sadly absent
Whatever, I’ll let my dreams bring her back to my doorstep

And when you see me, you won’t see me once again
But see me for the first ever time, see the real me
What is it you’ll see? Will you see something of beauty
Will you be happy to finally meet this me?
Will you have trouble adjusting to this ‘they’ as me?
Or will you not be too fussed, cos deep down you knew
That this is always where it was leading, since our first due,
When you caught me outside Williams, was this what you’d seen?
And more importantly if you liked what you see,
Would it possibly encourage you to cross the binary?

Even without my reckless whisper echoing in your ear
Will you grab a bite of ambition and abandon all you hold deer?
To where the best in you field currently go to grow
Cos it just so happens to be the same place, where I’m a stone’s throw
Maybe I could introduce to a few of your peers?
All it takes is a 3 course meal of swallowing your fears

And that’s when against all the odds, you step foot into my land
With a year lease and an acceptance letter for Trent in hand
You tell me it’s a cause to celebrate, yeah to say the least
We get ready for a night’s tour, ending in Jerusalem to the east
You and I even get the chance to trade jewellery for the night
By the time we’re ready it’s an unfathomable sight
A million years away from the timid thing from the middle of Essex
Now the kind of woman that’s an example of humanity at it’s apex

Wouldn’t it be cruel if the epitome of my dreams were fiction?
As you claw your way back into my mind with perfect diction
We’re late back to mine, meaning it’s too late, I’m patient zero
My life and future’s all in your hands, as I lay sweating on my pillow
Oh bacteriophage never looked so exquisite
With a custom painted leather jacket and cherry black lipstick
And when you undid the choke hold your shorts had on your perfect arse
It suddenly occurs me this past decade’s been a bit of a farce
Now matter how hard I prayed, No matter how I tired to distract
Well I don’t think it’s possible to possess any amount of tact
To admit there’s no company, from yesterday to way back
That lasted an evening, or were a several year long pact
That compared to even a few seconds passing by you in the halls
So when you consider our few years, it’s no contest at all

Oh it feels like chewing earwax to drop something that huge
I feel like I’ve aged 50 years and become Mr. Scrooge
But how can I deny it now I’ve been let back into your company
You slink around every inch of my body, with immediate familiarity
What have I now got to worry about? Now I’m back home in your thighs
Recalling the faintest feeling of hope, during this cataclysmic high
It brings tears to my eyes, blurring my sight, draining me of any fight
The stuttering the sighs, digging in your nails as you grip me tight
Sinking teeth into the jugular to cure your appetite
A screeching frequency, sure to reach the satellite
My conscious is fading with a rising Fahrenheit
I can’t recall my name, let alone recall a rhyme
I can’t recall my past, I refuse to acknowledge any future
Any life to live outside this moment is the start of devastation
My home for a self-inflicted stasis, to stay here until starvation
With your inner thighs covering my hearing
Sounds for little moans most endearing
I’m a goner, no calling for help, I’m tongue tied
The end is neigh, I’ve found my perfect place to die…

Oh but wouldn’t it be so cruel, if at the peak of my elation
It turns out it was just another work of cognitive fi-

Sebastian Noël

Lied Too – Part 1 (The Cisgender Days)

[CW: Sexual Assault]

All it took was a two short months
Before Asmodeus starting working his magic
And the cracks in my skin started gasping
Struck by muscle memory of the ‘ol cisgender days
That’s a lot sooner then the guarantee assured me
My rosary beads eroding from keeping the influence back
I guess I’m just recalling when this used to a thriving place
Like a one man travelling botanical gardens 
Inviting, populated and never wanting for company
If I was feeling cheeky I’d even call it coveted

But at what cost? Only the pittance giving him everything
Hard to see it now, but that felt like such a small price to pay
Slip into someone else suit, and sign a 5 year acting contract
And you get to be “One of them” you get to feel loved, finally
A childhood of “He’ll do” and last picked in P.E
The begrudging admittance of companionship on the playground
Snide 4 out of 10 ratings at the house parties
It’s that recollection of obscurity is how he seals the deal
It’s all gonna come to an end before you know it
Just become another of Asmodeus’ number

I still remember the times when those benefits were reaped
Someone not of this world set me in their sights
They offered me a seat on the “Neurologically typical table”
An autistic like me? Really?
A lifetime of self doubt melts away in an elegant fashion
In one beautiful night, under 99p store candle lights
With the kind of woman who’d steal your dreams for decades
Just the notion of someone being glad that I’m accompanying
As the dawn kisses dusk goodbye at the door
She grips me tight as she slides under the sheets
She climbs onto me and lets me know “Baby I can’t wait anymore”
That’s enough to melt this cold, cold soul

Then like a car crash into euphoria she screams
“Call me worthless, call me scum, just like a real man would”
And suddenly I don’t wanna do it, I don’t wanna do this anymore
Then come the breakfast table, discussion sours in the bowl
“Cut the dialogue unless your ploughing me, like a real man would”
And suddenly I don’t wanna see her, I don’t wanna see her anymore

It dawns on me that masculinity has lied to me again
This wasn’t the climax of my adolescence Asmodeus implied
The moment that would grant me my humanity, my place in society
In fact you could argue what little humanity I accumulated over time
Has been stripped from me with cynical accuracy
But it’s far too late, the indoctrination has truly sunk in
I’m starting to believe the fallacy, like when intimacy makes it’s absence
It can only imply malice, spite and boredom, it’s like the canary
Once it’s died in the shaft, there’s nothing bring that love back to life
An absurd theory, but the things we fall for before hindsight…
There’s no excitement, no elation, at your continued insistence to be
Your presence in her bed’s like inviting a stone into a shoe
Why aren’t we doing it? Don’t you like me anymore?
And during the hysterics, you catch yourself in the mirror
And you’ve become the very thing that got you here at all
Now I don’t wanna do it, I never wanna do it anymore

There’s no longer any critique from the water to the wine
Chasing that forever fleeting feeling of being revered by someone
Instead going back to that deafening indifference
Maybe the secret to happiness lies with the next one
Asmodeus assures you it’s gonna be the next one
They’ll let you love yourself again
That feeling that curls your stomach when you look at yourself?
That way you hate yourself? It’ll end he promises
But that’s the kind of logic that finds you stuck in the talons
Of those also bound to Asmodeus contract
Except they got a little ace up their sleeve; They’re soulless
It’s a thirst, and it’s gonna be quenched regardless of your consent

Her eyes light up in the doorway, as the true face comes to light
“Oh take me in your arms and put your hands around my neck
And take it all from me like a real man would”
And now I don’t wanna do it, I don’t wanna do it anymore
Her aggression starts to rise from your reluctance
She starts to pin you down and won’t let go
“You’ll take it from me, weather you like it or not, like a real man would”
But I don’t wanna be one, no I don’t wanna be one anymore

Needless to say that wasn’t what I consented too
Not on the night, or when I first got into a man’s suit
I took a year of celibacy to heal my aching soul
As it turns out, a plot twist to no observer, It was never worth it
A brief sense of acceptance by the masses, that crumbled in sunlight
A feeling that I was loved by everyone, but still hated by the one that mattered
They’re the one I’m stuck from sunrise to night fall
It’s the one that screams at the moonlight, every night
Begging for a body that matches the insides
While Asmodeus pats me on the back
For spreading toxic masculinity among the masses
The real me was starving in solitary confinement

A day doesn’t pass when I’m so glad I broke them out
Neither a woman or a man, still someone I’m getting to understand
Solitary nights in and dialogue with the echoes off my walls
It feels so good to get to know them after all this time
And all it cost was the pittance of everything
All the hype and clout I had built, I let it slip through my fingers
My appearance now lowers the mood in the room by 2 octaves
I don’t think anyone’s been glad to see me in a long while
I think Asmodeus sees it as the ultimate exile
But truth be told, I needed the solitude
Maybe somewhere, out there, the appearance of the real me
Is just the thing someone’s been waiting for

Sebastian Noël