Spent last night watching documentaries. I watched one about a gay white serial killer in Louisiana (why didn’t that more publicity?! It was going on while I was working down there. You could say its because he killed black guys but he killed white ones too… I think its just because he killed people that society didn’t care about.. drug users, homeless, hustlers.. though the teenage boy didn’t make any sense but he was stupid to go with this guy so whatever…) Then I watched a documentary about this black woman who killed this white doctor in Florida in the 1950’s. At the beginning of the story, there was this quote:
“So de white man thrown down de load and tell de nigger man tuh pick it up. He pick it up because he have to, but he don’t tote it. He hand it to his womenfolks. De nigger woman is de mule uh de world so fur as Ah can see.”
It stuck with me because it kind of hasn’t changed on the female side of things from what I see. And though pure white women still have it better off than black women, the younger generation is going to have to pick up the slack from the males as well as men have stopped going to school (on both the black and white sides), stopped being… strong. As I go into my 41st year (C’mon.. though I am “turning 40” it really means I am starting my 41st year… call it out for what it is), I see more because of my experience and because I also have dropped the trappings of what was important to observe when I was younger. What I see is men confused- doing things that they think make them “manly” but in my eyes, just make them appear weaker to me. The more you try to embrace “roles”, the more I see a weakness in stature and character. The more you try to scream to the world who you are, instead of just being, the more I see insecurity.
I am half white. I am half black. I don’t care what YOU may think I am, I know what I am and that’s all that matters. I know you will treat me a certain way because of your perceptions, but I have a choice to accept that treatment or not. When I see that quote above, it rings home because the more things change, the more they stay the same… except its not just about black women anymore, its about all women. At least in my experience, I have yet to meet a man who could do a third of what I can produce under severe pressure/strain. For a moment, I thought that was an inherent weakness in the male sex… all muscle, no heart, no real inner strength unless it has something to do with some perceived hero’s obligation. That the innner fight is not there just because it is, but because its expected. Expectations are empty promises… things done out of obligation and not because of want or heart. So I thought that the big secret is that men are weak. But the truth is that men are humans, just like women, and they’ve been raised with this “ideal”, just as women have been. But western women have been “liberated” by virtue of access to education and freedom of movement outside the home and so the little facade that society has designed slowly falls away. Some people cling to their holy books, and their made up causes trying to keep that status quo in place… but its crumbling. And where as women get more clarity and opportunity, where is the liberation of the man? I don’t mean the “men can cry, men can stay at home with babies, men can wear make up and dresses” shit. I mean that men can feel because they want to, men can do because they feel like it- not because they’re obligated too.
To me there is nothing sexier than a man who does because he wants to and not because he feels like he’s filling some sort of role in our social structure.
But that is probably why I feel I see so much weakness because to be strong, you’ve got to accept that you are weak. Seems counter-intuitive, I know, but if you can lay yourself bare, lay yourself open and voice your weakness/pain, then who can challenge you? People who come close to hurt you are trapped by you… as they finally seen for what they are, and people who stay away can’t deal with life and aren’t worth an investment of time. And that’s the secret to being strong- not how hard you are, how much you can lift, how much pain you can take. Being strong is admitting that you are human, you feel, and shit is hard, and you might be scared… BUT YOU FACE IT ANYWAY.
Perhaps inadvertently, the roles are slowly starting to be swapped… The women focus, they go to school, they get it done because now the males aren’t committing- or they aren’t committing in the real sense of the word anymore. And though I may not be of a breeding mind, a lot of women are and they know that if they’re going to have kids they have to always be able to provide. And as the women challenge the status quo, then men start to feel a bit lost as to “their role”. But the truth is that nobody has a role, be they male or female. Women can have babies. Men can lift heavier stuff. It really breaks down to that… And we’ve gone a millennium holding these things as a basis for society. But as we get more educated and discover more as a human race, the more we really see that we are the same… its nothing… its nothing. But unless we also truly be accepting that it is okay to feel and to do things because you want to, and not because you’re obligated to, and that we let men also “evolve” there is just going to be weakness through the entire human race.
“He pick it up because he have to, but he don’t tote it. He hand it to his womenfolks. De nigger woman is de mule uh de world so fur as Ah can see.”
Make him “tote it”, acknowledge it, accept it, take PRIDE it in. Or it is always going to be a woman who saves the day in the end when it should be all of us.
I’ve been so busy trying to work on other aspects of my life that me blogging again always seems to fall by the wayside. A lot of it has to do with self-censoring… but in my old age, I find that maybe I am self-censoring a hell of a lot less. I want to talk.. I want to write. I’ve come full circle in some ways when I think about it. I was mentioning the other day that I live a very singular life. Don’t really talk to many people at the level that I’d like to because they frankly cannot handle it. I’ve been rebuffed, shunned, admonished, and a bunch of other really snazzy scrabble words. On so many levels, it just made me quiet. But I never found much satisfaction writing in a private journal. I rather just let it go to 1’s and 0’s and the devil may have you. Life is life. Life is life. Life is short. My only concern is that I am noticing that I am starting to become quite numb. I’m here. But things aren’t registering as deeply with me as they once did. I think you get to a point where you go through so much hell, that the daily burn just takes on the importance of a gnat.
Anyway, my other little business venture has finally gone live. PLEASE, for the love of god, CHECK IT OUT.
It’s cool… no really. And for the love of god, please go BUY A T-SHIRT, cause that is gonna help me when I roll around part III of this 18 month plan.
I had fun getting that Aces website together, so now I’d like to do something with this one. Again its hard… I’m slowly becoming a public figure again, yet I also want to write divisive, in your face, commentary that probably isn’t really revolutionary to original, but hey, I think I’m pretty cool. I rediscovered my creativity and maybe my voice again. Its not that I was ever afraid of my voice, it was more that think I got hoarse shouting into a canyon. Then I got shot… and other allegories.. I love to speak in allegories… remember way back when? Remember when I used to write, write, write… and sometimes it was blunt and brazen, and other times, I wrote fables full of descriptors and allegories to explain a feeling, a concept, a moment?
I miss writing.
And I miss me. Or rather the public me. Again, I took a mortal wound to the psyche… I didn’t think I’d ever come back. Look, they finally have slain the demi-god… she has fallen. She will never rise again.
Guess they (and I) got that wrong. Here I am… older, wiser (?) and maybe infinitely more dangerous now because of it. I mention again that I am just feeling more and more numb. It means that I will take more risk. Perhaps the soul finally died and the corpse just speaks from memories of who I once was. Maybe its evolution. Maybe it can’t be explained and just is. And maybe I really am that emo, goth, douche bag I occasionally am called.
But I want to write again… and so I shall. I just have to be better about keeping the weird stuff here, and the fitness/professional stuff on the other websites. But it’s not like my brain lacks for shit to say… I what I lack is an audience to listen. So again, I throw this to the wilds of the Internet for it to bite me in the ass again, probably when I need a job.
And so it goes.
A LOT of damage in Rogers Park. This is just on my block… I walked around a bit… its bad everywhere. I’m a little sad because one of the awesome things about where I live ARE the tree lined streets… (not the hippie “artists”, but that’s another story for another time).
Sorry for the sideways video… I was just… kinda in shock. And excited. I want to go back to working on disasters again. Shit I do now is BORING!!!!
I suffered a cracked window in my apartment. That’s it. I got lucky. Motorcycle is fine too… I checked the garage as well.
I went off on Facebook… I liked it. It needed to be saved.. so putting it here:
Things I am sick of hearing about:
-Your sexuality or your gender
-Anything with Kardashian or Jenner
People so so fucking lost right now, its sad. Let me give you a heads fucking up.
Your dick doesn’t define you.
Your puss doesn’t define you.
Your color and your creed don’t define you.
All this shit that you’re using to define you are fucking boxes created by society because a few people felt the need to make boxes because they didn’t have the brain capacity to accept that colors, genders, creeds, what the fuck ever, DOES NOT DEFINE YOU.
What defines you is WHAT YOU DO. YOUR ACTIONS. That is your legacy. That’s you… because THAT you have control over. Its what you DO.. not even what you SAY, but what you DO.
Everyone is on some fucking crusade these days and a) its boring to me, b) it isn’t helpful, c) completely misses the point of what your life is about the brief time that you are here. There are so many things we cannot control in life… and we can’t stress over that shit… We can control what WE DO. And what WE DO is what defines us NOW and potentially in the future. You have only your own damn self to answer for at the end of the day. And I don’t care if you have a spouse a family or whatever… when you die, unless its an accident or a murder/suicide, you die alone. When you lay next to someone at night, you are in your head alone. You have a choice to define yourself and not let others do it for you… But its hard, because everyone wants you to check off a box and join a movement, or you don’t count or you’re seen as an asshole.
Don’t ever let someone else define you and you’ll learn to be comfortable in your own skin because you are fucking beautiful just as you are. I many not have many friends but I never question my actions or my path in life because I followed my heart and did what I felt was right for me. You don’t get to define me. I do. But when I am smoke and dust, what I did with my life and for others will say more about me than my color, my vagina, or my words ever did.
With much love (believe it or not)~
Victoria/AKA “Tek”/AKA “V”
Yes… it was time. Finally time to start writing again. I’ve been posting too much to Facebook and I am sure my “friends” are sick of me by now. It’s clear that I miss writing, miss that free-flow regurgitation of my thoughts out to the interwebs… for good… or ill. Some of you will recall the old website- That’s well and dead now. There is no room for a Tek”wh0re” in this new digital age and at MY age. Things can always be researched and thrown against you to see what sticks. You gotta be careful. Or not. Back to age… there is always a room for “Tek” and there will always be a Tek, or V, or whatever name you chose to call me… And there are many, both good and bad. End of the day, you (and I) gotta do what we gots to do, eh?
So here I am. I’m back. Real, and truly back! And I’ve got a lot to share. My world is still just as big and weird as ever, full of tales of woe and victory. But there is some sageous advice to add along with my grays now. What I hope to do is to inspire you to live your life, own your space, be you. And I hope to do that by sharing me, being me…
Because I’m pretty damn EPIC. And AWESOME.
For old friends, welcome back. For new ones, pull up a seat and enjoy the ride.
But not on my bike. :