C is for Camarón 🦐

I have more to say than anyone has the attention for. That is the first honest sentence.

If you want the raw unedited text, it is under the raw toggle.

For eight years I have been working on something more complex than I have clean language for. It keeps unfolding. Music, a network of interconnected sites, a Doctor Who-shaped social science-fiction universe, a spiritual practice, and a private alchemy I run when life dumps more voltage into me than my body can hold. People close to me still do not know the full shape of it. Not because I am hiding a crime. Because one part of it has always snagged, and I have not been able to move past the snag without more fear than I was willing to spend.

The snag is sexuality.

The hiccup

We like to think we are some kind of gods, living in an age of technology. Then we suffer, and the suffering is ridiculous. I am not saying that I am suffering now. I know what suffering looks like. I have been through it. I have ground under me that I did not have then. What I still have is a blockage, and it has been expensive.

On paper we are very conscious. Sex education. Penis, vagina, consent on a worksheet. Everyone agrees sexuality is normal, good, human. Then emotion arrives. Then money. Then the real allocation of a life: another person, your own project, or slaving inside someone else's dream. The pamphlet ends before power, worship, control, kink, the fantasies we rehearse and do not admit. Those are not exotic. They are ordinary nervous-system weather. We still have almost no grown way to talk about them.

Shame is part of the mechanism. The shame creates the charge, and then the charge becomes the thing you are not allowed to name. I have not been able to connect with people intimately, or sexually, in a long time, because this project means that much to me. I do not actually want to hook up with most people. For a long time I found most people uninteresting. I am starting to see past that. It does not change the fact that this subject has been a standing anxiety.

I censored myself for eight years. I am a millennial man. I grew up in a culture that talks a sophisticated game about sexual health and then panics when the material stops being theoretical. I absorbed that until it felt like my own conscience. I tiptoed around words so nobody would have to know I am a sexual being with a sexual mind. I am done doing that job for the culture.

What the fear is made of

I do not want to get Charlie Kirk'd. I do not want to get shot in broad daylight for a part of myself I believe the species is not mature enough to hear without reaching for a weapon or a rumor. That is not a theory about other people. It is a read of how primitive we still are, while telling ourselves we have graduated.

Someone already got the wrong idea once. They broke into my home, assaulted me, and smashed dishes in the house. That was frightening. Afterward came the gossip about how awful I was. I have been raped as a child, as a teenager, and as an adult. I have tried to connect and tried to be a good person, and it has backfired. Homelessness, a toxic workplace, drug addiction, psychosis: I do not trust many people. That is a receipt, not a personality.

There is also a symbol I did not choose. My father's name is Ken. An aunt collects Barbies. A Barbie-and-Bambi thread keeps showing up in the family field and in the work, like a karma woven into the story whether I want the pattern or not. I am not interested in a theory that explains it away. I am interested in a practice that keeps it in the fiction, where it cannot conscript someone else's body.

What I am actually building

I want to live in a world where I can be myself, and where I can build things that involve erotic themes. I do not mean toxic content. I mean a correction to the Western habit of calling sexuality empowered while refusing its weather. I have friends who are strippers. I do not even feel comfortable bringing this to them, and I do not think it is important that I do. I know how to cope. The content is the coping. It was never their job. This torch is mine to carry.

The sexual thread is one dimension of a larger thing. The project is a story of what I have been through, and of the fantasies that move through my head: power play, control, power dynamics, kink, worship. Guided audio. Erotic fantasy stories. Consensual non-consent, inside the container of fiction. I am threading a needle so I can share the work and be proud of it. We all start somewhere. I do not think what I am making is fully refined. I do think it is more refined than a lot of what already circulates, and I feel it is my role to take the first steps toward a discourse where these themes are not automatically shunned. Especially for men like me.

I went into psychosis and addiction in part because I needed more than rock bottom. I needed full system dissolution, a place where I could recognize truth.

Yes. I choose to go insane.
I am not a victim.
I returned with wisdom.

I cannot give that recognition better words. I have experienced it. I am not asking you to sign off on it.

The method is simple, and it is the part I most want understood. When something in my life sends a surge of energy, that energy has to move.
Journaling was not enough.
I turn the journal into audio.
I listen to it.
I let the fantasy complete.
Then it is out of my system.

It protects myself and people who happen to enter my life. I can finish the piece and return to what is equally mine: sadhana, practice, yoga, career, the long build. Every chakra matters. This one, the sacral, is the blockage. I need to face it in a safe context, with friends and with the community that is precious to me, so people can see who I am on this level and not invent the rest without the honest context.

Fantasy, reality, the paradox

There is material reality, and there is fantasy.
People get worked up about the distinction, as if naming it creates it.
Masculine and feminine meet in a paradox.
If we cannot talk around that paradox, or build a container for it, the unsaid does not become holy.
It becomes more suffering.
More wars.
Children bombed in Gaza.
Jews killed.
Witches burned.
The old human solution to a natural feeling, which the group has not agreed to have.

Same fucking story every time.

"My biggest enemy is ME.
Ever since day one."
\~Lady Gaga

I would rather say the feeling in a frame. My soul runs like a TARDIS on this question. I believe there is a diagonal path forward, and I am going to keep building, one way or another.

I will build the 'container'.
I will build the 'TARDIS'.
I will build the 'Elysium'.

This spearhead is being brought forward in the shadows in one specific sense: I am not making an effort to convince anyone to consume it. It is imagination. If you know that, you do not have to guess. The shadow does not get to introduce me. That is the point of saying it out loud. I do not want a leaked half-version that sends someone to my door for bigoted ideals. I do not want the gossip that follows. I want to be transparent enough to look in the mirror and know I did the true thing, for myself and for the people close to me, without a regret I could have prevented by speaking.

Not a side

I am tired of the blame sport.
Here in Canada we are good at swallowing it. We get pussied out, then we pick up a victim story and hand the cause to someone else. I want that game to end.

I also want the species, in this Age of Aquarius, to grow past the egocentric nonsense where everyone is a narcissist and everyone is the bad guy.

Men are killing themselves.

We trash-talk men for how awful they are, and then we do not care when they die, because we are busy with our own bullshit.

I am not saying men or women are all good or all bad. The binary is the swamp. What I am trying to bring forward is a discourse, an environment, a platform, so the topic can be discussed and nurtured consciously.

For me to have that, I have to be able to speak about what I have actually been building. Even people close to me do not know, because it is so involved with sexuality and with my anxiety that the sentence would not come out my lips.

There is a difference between right for myself and right for everyone. I believe in a win-win. People may misunderstand my intentions. They may judge me. They may praise me. I want to do what is right, regardless...
"The diagonal path."
The way of the shrimp. 🦐

Temple on a swamp

You do not build a sacred temple on a swamp. You need land with a foundation. These eight years were that work, done alone, in the dark, so I could have this moment: stand up, confess that I have been building this, and intend to keep building it. I am not here to convince anybody to engage with it. It is still a significant part of my life.

I am a Kundalini Yogi, an Aquarian teacher. I am Sikh. I sit inside the Khalsa vow as I understand it. From that seat, the risk is part of the duty. Self-censorship started to look less like humility and more like a private swamp I was asking other people to live beside.

My north star is not directly 'sexual'. It is 'sacred'. And I am done talking myself out of naming it.
I love Grimes.
I love her music, her creative spirit.
IDORU was my awakening song.
It is in the floor of my life.
I would die for her. In the way that matters to this story, I already have.

I am not asking for praise. I want to inspire her to play some kind of role in the Doctor Who series that is just as close to my heart. If I shake her hand one day, that would make every moment of suffering worthwhile.
It is not even about sexuality. The eroticism, the perversions, the fantasies, the kinks, the control and the consent... It's all part of it.
They cannot be excluded. I have to accept them as part of myself. I do not think it is right for anyone to tell me that expressing this is wrong.

C is for censorship. This world keeps trying to censor a voice, a feeling, a body of work. I absorbed a lot of that. Shame, guilt, insecurity. Then I censored myself, for eight years. I am laying the tool down.

Burning Glåüm

This post is the door, not the exhibit.

I am entering a stage where I host a night called Burning Glåüm. Welcome to the opera. On my birthday I am going to share some of my music. It is not going to be sex-focused. It is going to be me entertaining people, and using the evening to face the fear: I have been building something that still gives me anxiety and shame to discuss. I am going to do my best to express that. Then I am going to keep doing whatever I'm doing, but this time publically, without chasing anyone into the work.

The fear does not have to be gone for the sentence to be said.