The Turning of Morgan Laudine

The Turning of Morgan Laudine.-Excerpt from the diary of Mathias Sprout: Junior Record Keeper, Luskan Library.

Morgan was born over 200 years ago, the daughter of a noble household, her mother was a handmaiden in the court of the govenor of Luskan, a city on the Northwest Coast of Faerun. Her father, an influential merchant who traded in antiquities and rare artifacts.

She was only young when she was turned, it was late winter the snow was heavy that year. In her dreams she heard a faint singing, mournful and so sad, tossing and turning she awoke in the dead of night, the air was freezing, she could see her breath in the air, the last time she would. The singing came again, surrouding her, screaming in her ears, seemingly coming from every direction. She heard a loud knock on the door of her bedroom, she froze and the singing vanished. Her father was standing in the doorway, the warm light of the fireplace in the library reflected behind him. He was old, dressed in traditional court attire, his bright smile and toothy grin beamed at her.

“are you okay Morgan?, I’ve been out late with a meeting with the local dutchy and I could hear your screaming even from the courtyard!”Yes father, i’m fine, just a nightmare..nothing more than that I think. I’ll try and get some more sleep.’”well that’s a good girl, remember you’ve got etiquette training in the morning, then horse riding afterwards, so you’ll need your sleep!”You’re right of course, good night”sleep well’

And with that he closed the door, and clomped off down the corridor and up to the second floor.

She pressed her head into the pillow, desperate to sleep, when she heard it again, the singing, so sad. so very very sad, a womans voice.’rise little one’The voice was quiet, barely a whisper, a voice of shadow and night, wind and the moon. soft, dark, slurring.She rose from the bed the white sheets of the cover falling softly back onto the bed, and clad only in her nightie she opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

It was freezing, the fire that shone so brightly before had dimmed to embers and the cold had leaked back into the house. The singing came again, and the voice, ‘come….’ her body follwed, she was entranced, the voice was so beautiful, so wonderful and yet…Across the hall, through the library she walked, the door to her fathers study stood before her, old mahogony wood, symbols on the door in some anchient language, her father said it was a gift from something called an Eladrin.The voice again, ‘The door, open it…’For a momment she could talk, hear herself ‘I can’t fathers study is off limits’ open…it…”but..I…’”OPEN IT”

She turned the handle, the door creaking on it’s hinges as it opened.Her fathers study was beautiful, old books and strange containers with all manner of things stacked everywhere, scrolls littered the floor, and a huge globe, the entire known world of faerun stood next to an old rocking chair. And on the opposite side of the room, a large wooden desk, of beautiful dark wood, covered in symbols and runes, stange writing from all manner of languages, the top covered in papers along with an ink well and quill.

‘THE DESK”I…cannot”go…the desk…there is a compartment…hiddeen…a catch..in the desk drawer.’ She felt her body move to the far end of the desk and into the chair her father would sit at.Her hands moved, the desk drawer was opened, the gold key suddenly in her hand. Where did she get it, she had no clue. Her thoughts sluggish.

She pulled the drawer out entirely, scattering it’s contents, old quills, bits of parchment, letters, all over the floor. Her fingers moved along the surface of the bottom of the desk, where the drawer had been.’…this…you are…nearly…there….find..the…’ A catch, a small compartment opened in the top of the desk.’….this…my prison, for such…a long time…..’The comparment held a lever, encrusted with runes, sparkling dark metal. She reached in and pulled.’…wonderful…oh soo close…’The sides of the small compartment fell away, the top of the desk, smealessly fell into the sides, a space within a space, larger on the inside.’You…there…I am here…find…me’Her fingers pushed into the inky blankness of the space in the desk, she felt it, hard, perfect, she withdrew her hand.In the palm of her small hand lay a perfect diamond, pulsing with a soft red light, the singing again, louder this time, coming from all around her…and the voice…’my prision, cast in here long ago, a cruel joke cast in here by an eladrin witch..but now…I am free.’That voice was so cold.

The diamond shattered in her hand, energy flew up into her eyes. And with that. Morgan Laudine was dead.

But not. She awoke, stone cold, so so cold. Her arms were covered in blood. Everything was covered in blood. Two corpses lay at her feet. Her parents bedroom. And she screamed.

—

Busy busy busy not.

I am incredibly unbiusy and have stopped blogging and I really need to get back to it, I guess I’ve been away from the next and or possibly stuck in the land of skyrim and tamriel in general. more as it happens and of course, when I have time and energy to put my writing back together again.

Things I love #89342623

This:

http://www.ibtimes.com/articles/148072/20110518/rare-color-photos-from-depression-era.htm
 From here.

Things I have done.

I did try blogging about psych ward, alas it was too traumatic at the time, and to be entirely honest I’m not that healthy right now.

Bipolar, Aspergers, OCD, ADHD. I have too many labels and too many diagnoses.
Suffice to say I’m a nutcase.

The navigation of the human experience is one of the most trying things for me, and I often wonder why I don’t end it.

And then I think about all the things I can do, my piano, my mind, my friends and family. Even my therapist.
I’m surrounded by people who care and there is so much magic in the world. It’s a shame it is so hard to find.

Being unemployed isn’t very fun, I’d love a holiday to a far away place.

I’d like to go back home. To England. Or visit New York and Seattle.

However that is off the cards in anything but the long long term.
Perth is a city that I love, it’s a fantastical shithole. But it’s my shithole.
But the playing video games all day, trying to find the ability and common sense to study while maintaining a stable sleeping patter does in the end become monotonous.
I’ve recently been dilly-dallying with a cute lady named Lily, she’s cute, a gamer, loves her anime and nerdy scifi.

On another note. the 19th of May was my birthday.

26. Closer to 30 than before.
I swore by now I’d have done many things, unfortunately I have really failed in that one.
So I take solace in the things I have done and can do, in no particular order:
So here goes a list: (Autistics? Making lists? Nooo wayyy!!!?)

1. Play Piano
2. Extremely good at FPS video games
3. Nearly completed 1 semester of Sociology.
4. Had photography in a gallery.
5. Got on the front page of slashdot at the very top.
6. Have some vintage 1977 “Star Wars” posters.
7. Have an epic DVD collection.
8. Once constructed a treehouse in a public park, using just scavenged materials and a hammer.
9. Visited France, Italy, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Singapore, Bali, Thailand, England and all the actually interesting Australian states (QLD,NSW,WA,VIC).
10. Shot an AK-47.
11. Helped Beta-Test Escape Velocity: Nova.
12. Worked on and off in IT in various roles.
13. Got extremely drunk in kings cross and Newtown while kissing cute queers.
14. Had sex with most every flavour of gender.
15. Once played Piano at the UWA auditorium.
16. Dived in reefs off the coast of Nah Trang.
17. Swum in Nigaloo Reef.
18. Visited a sweatshop.
19. Read everything written by Naomi Klein, Most of Judith butler, Serano, Connell, Asimov, Clarke, Palhaniuk, Gibson, Tolkien,  Herbert and Feist.
20. Met Amanda Palmer.
21. Saw Garbage, Placebo, Amanda Palmer, The Dresden Dolls, Bob Dylan, Cat Empire, Reel Big Fish, Spiderbait, Goldfinger, Less than Jake, Tiger Army, Michael Franti and a whole bunch of others live.
22. Played through Halo 1 Co-Op on legendary over the course of 24 hours.
23. Fallen in love. (Multiple times, and every single one was different).
24. Kissed a beautiful woman while sitting in a tent on the beach at sunset in a remote corner of WA.
25. Learnt to fish with my Father.
26. Played poker for money (and lost).
27. Drunk a proper and perfect Dry Martini.
28. Sat on a beach in the early hours of the morning around a roaring fire with close friends.
29. Played with Lego.
30. Tried to kill myself.
31. Had my heart broken.
32. Been loved unconditionally.
33. Had a dog.
33. Had several cats.
34. Killed my goldfish.
35. Killed any and all pot plants I have tried to keep alive.
36. Enjoyed a perfect mug of early grey tea early in the morning while standing in the crisp morning air.
37. Ran topless in the rain.
38. Swum in a pool in the middle of a monsoon season.
39. Smoked weed while listening to Bob Dylan play live.
40. Beaten the top Darts player in a pub.
41. Listened to Simon and Garfunkle on Vinyl.
42. Read the entire Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy ’trilogy’.
43. Learnt to eat which chopsticks.
44. Seen every film by Tarantino and Rodriguez.
45. Built a go-cart with my dad and ridden it down a steep hill.
46. Had my Mother accidentally destroy my go-cart with her car.
47. Played NES,SNES,N64, SEGA Master System 1 and 2, Atari 2600 and Sega Mega Drive.
48. Watched original Transformers early in the morning with my cereal.
49. Bought pokemon and magic cards.
50. Played Dungeons and Dragons and Warhammer.
51. Cosplayed.
52. Been to conventions while cosplaying.
53. Bought and read a first edition copy of Tennyson.
54. Proudly called myself a Feminist.
55. C0me out as Gay, Lesbian and Transsexual.
56. Built my own computer.
57. Taken pictures of my friends being idiots with a polaroid camera.
58. Gotten to Level cap in Star Trek: Online, Guild Wars and World of Warcraft.
59. Done tequila slammers.
60. Regretted doing tequila slammers.
61. Seen all of Babylon 5.
62. Had sex in a public place.
63. Enjoyed a long Australian summer day on the beach fucking around in the surf.
64. Went to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
65. Learned about fine wine and beer.
66. Enjoyed delicious cheese while looking over fields of lavender.
67. Tried to pick up a lobster with my bare hands.
68. Been to a Star Trek convention.
69. Tried to learn to skateboard.
70. Ridden on trails in a mountain bike.
71. Climbed a rock face (A short one).
72. Camped in the Australian Bush.
73. Visited a naval base and asked about missiles (When I was 11).
74. Been on board a submarine.
75. Learnt to drive a boat and a yacht.
76. Played mini-golf.
77. Played actual g0lf.
78. Sifted for gold-dust.
79. Drunk rainwater.
80. Made my own jam with my Mum.
81. Entered a cake in a baking competition (And lost spectacularly).
82. Done paste-ups.
83. Lay down in the middle of a deserted freeway at 3am.
84. Ridden on a motorcycle.
85. Painted my own apartment with the help of my girlfriend.
86. Run with a puppy in a beautiful field of Canola.
87. Learnt to ride a horse.
88. Seen sea lions in the wild.
89. Played with a Dolphin at Monkey Mia.
90. Stubbed my toe.
91. Listened to grunge while crying as a teenager.
92. Baked cupcakes.
93. Been in multiple psychiatric wards.
94. Wondered what Spam is made out of.
95. Had a teddy bear.
96. Swung a broadsword.
97. Ridden the night train between Paris and Niece.
98. Walked on a pier in the south of England in the rain.
99. Enjoyed a mug of hot chocolate.
100. Loved myself.

Psych Ward: DAY 7

Note: All entries typed on my phone. Entries will be brief because of this.
A: Recap
Back on ward after 3 and a bit years, I wasn’t coping well and it took me a long time to settle in.
I’m somewhere new this time D20 psych at Charles Gairdner Hospital.
Was planning to be shifted around but I’m being kept here long term.

I will blog at the end of each day.
I didn’t for the first six so from now on I will try.

Anxious about new nurses and facility but settled in quickly.
A bit lost, acting Very autistic.
Often feel unable to communicate and trapped in my own head.
Bad serious anxiety and panic attacks.
Sensory problems at maximum. Everything is too loud or too bright.
A slammed door can make me fall to the ground. Slowly getting better.
Met with psych team briefly.
Prescribed rest, therapy and drugs. Asked to participate in group program as of monday the 1st.
Diagnosed : Aspergers possible bipolar.
Drugs: Seroquel and Lorazepam
Lorazepam is PRN to take when needed seroquel 50mg at night.
This is on top of my hormones.

Day :7
Woke up in a total mood shift today
Felt angry frustrated for no real reason
Punched a wall and kicked over a chair
Given seroquel and lorezepam.
Rested for awhile. Did alot of reading.
Naomi Klein’s Shock Doctrine.
Southern Theory by Raewyn Connell
Sat in the courtyard and listened to Nirvana.

They have a good piano here.
Great sound and action.

Other residents from every spectrum:
DID, Bipolar, Borderline, Schitzo, Auties, PTSD, Drug Abuse rehab, Brain Damaged. Fun lot. Makes dinner times interesting.

Breakfast: Toast & Cereal with Orange juice
Lunch: Grilled Chicken and veggies, Ice Cream!!!!
Dinner: Eating at hospital cafe

I have been given hospital grounds privileges. Allowed off ward but not off grounds.

Wretches and Jabberers

I don’t often post other peoples things. But this is seriously important.

Autistics have voices. We Must be allowed to speak. all of us.

Trying to visualize madness.

There is a loss that you feel at that moment of intersection between realities.
Almost a rebirth, where you cease to be yourself and become a machine of flesh, bone and blood, you feel your heart beating in your chest but you are unsure if it is yours. In your head emotions scream and rage, voices and imagination take root in reality and suddenly your entire sense of self is gone.
Reality Loss.

The self that is held together by rational thought, the concept that one moment actually directly followed another, one action has a consequence that creates a system of interlocking moments that in the end make up our very lives.

The loss of that to the emotional self, the one that doesn’t say anything to you as much as it is you, it doesn’t control you as much as it is a loss of control, a loss of time, space energy and rational thought.

Yes, I have been mad. Doctors have told me so many times that I have this disorder or that, this disease or that malfunction. I am like a clock ticking out of time in rhythm with the heart beat of the universe.
Slipping into madness isn’t something anyone enjoys, it’s not something you choose, it is a reaction, a moment chosen for you by some greater self brought to life by our experiences, emotions and chemical imbalances.

I’ve tried to think how I would describe being mad to people, I never have any real answers.

Madness isn’t logical. It just is.

Sometimes people become mad, some are just born that way.
I don’t know which I am. It has ceased to matter. I am forever placed in a position of debate against my psyche.

Mad is not fun.

 

Sucker Punch: Deeply Problematic

Sucker Punch: Deeply Problematic.

Five women in matching black burlesque attire fighting along side a giant mecha, they are all holding machine gunes.

Zack Snyder the erstwhile director of ‘Sucker Punch’ and  ‘300’ has not been a director I particularly like, while I am a huge fan of ‘exploitation’ cinema, if only because it is so wonderfully flawed ‘Sucker Punch’ has left me cold.

Where do I begin, with the outfits? Maybe, alas I believe that would be to simple a place to start as accusing a male director of turning women into cheesecake is hardly a task.
No, this movie has deeper problems than that.

Sucker Punch opens with a scene of violence and possible sexual abuse by a step father against his two daughters, he kills one of them and the other gets sent to a mental institution.

This young woman, a blonde haired girl named ‘Baby Doll’ from here goes through a series of adventures leading to her escape, she does this by convincing her fellow inmates all other women, to rebel against the guards, the lead therapist (another woman) and the head of the asylum a man named ‘Blue’.

Now, here is where things get murky because as if things were not bad enough, suddenly the mental asylum is for reasons I can’t really explain is imagined as a ‘brothel’ or ‘strip club’ by our protagonist.
Here is where the problem is, ‘Baby Doll’ has been beaten and abused, sent to an asylum for wayward girls and suddenly her mental  escape, her imaginary way to create her own freedom is to imagine she is in a ‘brothel’ in particular, one where women are routinely abused, beaten and killed.
Kept only as slaves.

In this scenario ‘Blue’ is the ruthless owner of the brothel and the therapist is a dance teacher, who tells them that ‘they have all the weapons they need’ which are implied to be their bodies.
She gives a message of strength, while at the same time telling them that to be able to be strong they have to take advantage of the ‘male gaze’.

So she concocts the plan to escape, which involves dancing.
Yes Dancing. They distracted the men with what are implied to be overly sexual dances.
These dances are imagined by the girls as epic battles and adventures, fights against dragons in planes, killing zombies with machine guns in First World War trenches and attacking robots from helicopters over a train in the future.  All the while dressed in burlesque and overly sexualised attire.

Is this the kind of imagination one escapes too when frightened and being abused?, running off idealized male video game fantasy of women in school girl outfits (with lots of crotch shots) fighting monsters.
Oh and on all these imaginary missions (which are actually dances to distract guards and others) who is the person giving them orders and support? A man.

Zack Snyder has claimed this is his vision of female empowerment, and yes while it is good in its message, all it does is point out that the only weapons women have are our bodies.

I won’t really reveal the ending, but I will say this, even has one of our heroes escapes at the end, she gets on the bus only to be stopped by police, suddenly the bus driver intervenes. He is the man who has been giving them orders and briefing them on each of their ‘missions’ in their dance/dream sequences.
It’s a tragic trope; women can’t have their own freedom without help from men.

So sucker punch, for all its hopes and possibilities, just comes off as a deeply problematic cheesecakey romp through male fantasies of what female empowerment might look like.
This movie could have been really fun and interesting; it had promise and an interesting concept.
Instead it’s just more of the same.
Come on Hollywood, it’s time to grow up.

Sex: A Discussion.

Dialogue

(Trigger Warning: Transphobia, sexism, frank discussions of sex and institutional violence.)

As a Trans-Woman who often dates other Trans-Women, I’m often asked.
What is it like for me to have sex?

This is one of those all too personal questions that comes down to the wire depending on how you feel about your own privacy.

There is a certain mythical quality to the collective representations that are The Bodies of Trans People.

Society tends look down on us as freaks if we don’t pass their guidelines for how women should look, or as sultry deceivers only out to undermine patriarchal views of masculinity and enforced heteronormativity, it seems even the news often tells us we deserve anything we get if we choose to violate those bounds.

Outside of traditional media and news reports lies the heavily fetishized version of our bodies depicted by the transsexual pornography industry. In this vision we’re labelled as ‘she-males’, ‘trannys’ and ‘sissies’, once again labelled as imposters, made to show what we ‘really’ are.

There have of course been a few positive depictions of our bodies in pornography, but those are few and far between.

With all these forces seemingly arrayed against us is it possible to have a dialogue about the bodies, sexual identities and practices of Trans people without resorting to fetishization or demonizing.
The answer is of course yes, and relies on the common telling of stories.

The ability to talk about sensitive issues from a place of safety, anonymity and empowerment is key to having this discussion.

Within the feminist community there is an ongoing dialogue about women’s bodies that talks in a positive manner about the lack of presentation of a wide range of bodies in the media, this lesson can be taken up within the trans-feminist community to help discuss these issues.

It’s no huge secret that I as an author was heavily influenced by the Riot Grrl scene of the early 90s, despite attitudes held by some of the women involved, I still find looking back to that era hugely empowering. The radical in your face performances of the time had an effect on popular culture at the time has never really been achieved since.

We can look at what was most important about that era and say with ease that it was the way equality, diversity and voices were shown through art forms.  The wonderful thing about presenting a subject through art is that it will generally leave a lasting impression.

Some of these radical discussions are already happening from the incredibly recent Girl Talk event (which sadly being a country away I did not get to attend) to awesome online projects like Fucking Transwomen.

I believe deep down that trans-women are beautiful, we’re shaped by our personal struggles and histories, beaten down at every turn and yet we survive. Because we must and because we are strong.
We come in all shapes, colours, sizes and sexual preferences. Our stories must be told if we are to ever be treated on our own terms, I firmly believe that they are also the key to escaping the false dichotomy that is ‘passing’.

There is of course the never ending pressure to conform to social expectations of how women should look, as well as the dysphoric feeling brought on by the simple fact of being a transsexual.
That dysphoria has a whole language of its own that needs to be written.

I love my body, despite its flaws it is mine and I would never trade it for another.
I spent so many years to get to this point, and will no longer pander to society by allowing myself to be forced into a position of hatred.

Every Trans-woman will have a different dialogue to bring to the table, and while we will all interface with this issue in varying ways, we are united by a common stance of mutual understanding.

The discussion needs to begin at the basics to define a language of expression, we use words like ‘dysphoria’, ‘cis’, ‘transgender’ and ‘transsexual’, words that are common place for us and yet outside of academic discussion and the feminist community, barely understood.

So it comes back to that question.

What is it like for me to have sex?
How I behave between the sheets is highly dependent on who I’m with, their sexual preferences, feelings on kink and issues of consent.

Before I have sex there is always a discussion of comfort zones, of what is on the table.
What can be touched, what can’t and how.
I have never been comfortable with penetration, so often sex with me comes down to somebody being able to move beyond the power dynamics involved in that act.

Sex is more than just orgasm; it is an act of mutual sharing and passion. To lie in bed and be truly comfortable with a partner is for me a lovely experience. That said I am comfortable enough with other people giving me orgasms, and no I don’t cum like a boy.
That is another myth that needs to be told, hormones make powerful changes to the body and most people have no idea what they are beyond the more obvious external changes.

At the end of the day sex for us is more than just genitals, the assumption that sex has to involve genitals or even penetration is one of the most horrible assumptions placed upon sex by the collective standard of heterosexuality.

There is no one way to have sex, just as there is no one way to love.
We as a community are in a position to be able to have this discussion, to dispel the myths of trans bodies, we just need to do it.

Who is Samantha Razor?
Samantha is a 26 year old trans-woman who studies sociology somewhere in Australia.
She has Aspergers, bipolar and many other labels. In her spare time she writes and plays piano.
She thinks she can change the world.

The Riot Grrl Manifesto

RIOT GRRRL MANIFESTO
By Kathleen Hannah (lead singer of Bikini Kill and feminist activist)

BECAUSE us girls crave records and books and fanzines that speak to US that WE feel included in and can understand in our own ways.

BECAUSE we wanna make it easier for girls to see/hear each other’s work so that we can share strategies and criticize-applaud each other.

BECAUSE we must take over the means of production in order to create our own moanings.

BECAUSE viewing our work as being connected to our girlfriends-politics-real lives is essential if we are gonna figure out how we are doing impacts, reflects, perpetuates, or DISRUPTS the status quo.

BECAUSE we recognize fantasies of Instant Macho Gun Revolution as impractical lies meant to keep us simply dreaming instead of becoming our dreams AND THUS seek to create revolution in our own lives every single day by envisioning and creating alternatives to the bullshit christian capitalist way of doing things.

BECAUSE we want and need to encourage and be encouraged in the face of all our own insecurities, in the face of beergutboyrock that tells us we can’t play our instruments, in the face of “authorities” who say our bands/zines/etc are the worst in the US and

BECAUSE we don’t wanna assimilate to someone else’s (boy) standards of what is or isn’t.

BECAUSE we are unwilling to falter under claims that we are reactionary “reverse sexists” AND NOT THE TRUEPUNKROCKSOULCRUSADERS THAT WE KNOW we really are.

BECAUSE we know that life is much more than physical survival and are patently aware that the punk rock “you can do anything” idea is crucial to the coming angry grrrl rock revolution which seeks to save the psychic and cultural lives of girls and women everywhere, according to their own terms, not ours.

BECAUSE we are interested in creating non-heirarchical ways of being AND making music, friends, and scenes based on communication + understanding, instead of competition + good/bad categorizations.

BECAUSE doing/reading/seeing/hearing cool things that validate and challenge us can help us gain the strength and sense of community that we need in order to figure out how bullshit like racism, able-bodieism, ageism, speciesism, classism, thinism, sexism, anti-semitism and heterosexism figures in our own lives.

BECAUSE we see fostering and supporting girl scenes and girl artists of all kinds as integral to this process.

BECAUSE we hate capitalism in all its forms and see our main goal as sharing information and staying alive, instead of making profits of being cool according to traditional standards.

BECAUSE we are angry at a society that tells us Girl = Dumb, Girl = Bad, Girl = Weak.

BECAUSE we are unwilling to let our real and valid anger be diffused and/or turned against us via the internalization of sexism as witnessed in girl/girl jealousism and self defeating girltype behaviors.

BECAUSE I believe with my wholeheartmindbody that girls constitute a revolutionary soul force that can, and will change the world for real.