For so long, Christmas has felt to me like it’s about death. Missing relatives who had passed, deep emotional pain, and many people around me trying to cover up their pain with passing pleasures. I even made a poetry zine some years ago called Christmas Is About Death.
Now that my mom is on the other side, I don’t need to celebrate Christmas anymore. We did with the Catholic Worker, and I savored the two tamales I ate–soul food.
I really like a few carols also. Please hear my three favorite verses of O Come All Ye Faithful, if you care to. I sang them in bed for my friend.
Ming tabled again at the Flex cocktail lounge, a queer bar here in Las Vegas. The event is put on by Therapy Zine.
Ming had my zines, some art, his narcolepsy zine, fliers for the Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective, Las Vegas Street Medics, and a donation jar. Looks pretty, doesn’t it? In the blacklight.
I had the art left over from the ofrenda making process. It’s all bunnies but two small snakes also, in front. It’s cool he brought that–we thought the art would add visual appeal to the table at least.
I’m grateful he put up the tiny fairy lights–so lovely. Nobody understands the Animal Chin prayer cards, but that’s ok. You win some–you lose some!
The vegan cookzine, those are usually popular. But this second issue I might have made too strange, with the disabled eating subtitle. Overly specialized! The special treehouse for fat people #2 did well last month, maybe because of the naked people on the cover? But not this time.
Ming says there were way fewer people than last month, like a third. Maybe they scheduled it close enough to Christmas that folx are traveling out of town already. He likes talking to many people with low commitment. It’s social fun for him, without incurring plans and needing to do stuff for them.
As for me, I don’t think I would last five minutes. The people, noise, and cigarette smoke would do me in. But I fantasize about performing–I want to rap.
I feel full of change. My friend in France who likes to do readings for me, I asked them, “Where do I belong?”
It was the Shadowscapes tarot. They pulled the death card, which is for transformation, shedding what we no longer need, and closing one door to open another. Yes, I’m ready. Let’s do it. In this particular deck, the death card depicts a Phoenix.
Lots of change going on right now and on the horizon. Next month Ming and I are taking an epic roadtrip to my homeland, very well-planned and emotional.
The reservations are made. I’m not going to see any friends–just the two relatives I speak with, and the place my parents’ ashes are scattered. It’s my first time returning to the coast since my mom died, and it will be the end of the two year cycle of grieving that I declared when she died.
Not that I’ll ever been done missing her or grieving her, but those two years are very important to me. I liked to specify my goal, and we did amazing, sticking to that, and supporting me through all that learning and pain.
Ming will see some relatives, and we’ll try to take it easy, with rest days. We need to be realistic about our health and caring for our bodies. It will be expensive, but I’m finally ready.
Death is huge. I’m so glad I have the resources to give death the attention it deserves, and feel my feelings. The only reason I can live without psych meds is the hard work I do with Ming’s help of feeling my feelings and facing reality.