Self-Organizing Man

So I’ve started work on a memoir, without regard to chronology, gender, and origin.

The structure right now is one of chapters with a cartoon and a short or long collection of words, sentences and paragraphs.

Sex and clothes seem to be the two topics I’m working on/through. These are two things I’m very passionate about. The right to a passionate, open, compassionate sex life is a right I believe in and one that seems difficult to place at the front of the left political movement.

"We need to focus on what’s important!"

Right. I am.

So I’m writing about breasts these days, as I’ve really liked them for quite some time. I’m also not writing about origins. Actually I’m making a series of decisions to avoid the discussion while hinting at it.

Transsexual memoirs, by definition it seems to me, require some explanation from the writer about origins. I’m not unique in this observation or in detesting answering the question.

The why bores me now. Today I endeavor to answer the how of my life ~ the process, the details, what raises my passion. The force of my detest is strong. Yet I feel as though this post, or even the entire book, can’t describe how such emphasis makes my life seem like either a question mark or one long exclamation point. Never a period nor rest.

Sokari, recently asked "What does your body mean to you and how does it influence your identity."

In refusing to discuss origins my body and my life becomes relaxed and open. Every origin story underscores my unusualness.

What I’m not clear about is whether skirting around the topic in the memoir will only serve to bring more attention to the topic.

And I’m sure I’m rambling now.