Mile-End Five

This is the 5th blog post about me, a not so passable but still very sexy mature transsexual woman wandering in the streets of Montréal, Québec after landing in a shitty small room in a 65 room building following an eviction for renovations...

and after spending most time after transition locked away inside the apartment where I lived since 2015 and that I had to leave in a rush on July 5, 2021. It's not necessarily written in a chronological order, and I might (so it seems) be repeating myself. Excuse my English: not my 1st language.

 Old and alone

I never realized it was the Gay Pride Parade yesterday Sunday. I went to Jeanne-Mance park where I’ve been hanging in the morning for the past week or so, then started to type on my PC, rolled a joint.

I found there were many policemen. Then I saw gay, and then a trans flag, then again more coloured flags I’m not sure I can identify. Bisexual flag?

Many queers with flags started to sit all around me in the park… 

That goes to show how much I’m not really a part of this community.

I wasn’t aware… this was THE day I’m allowed to be myself, especially here, in the middle of all the queerests in Montréal and from elsewhere around.

But all of a sudden, I started to feel not queer enough kind of…

I had no flag, I wasn’t on a celebration day, just usual stuff, about to pluck a few hair on my face, wearing my usual shorty shorts and white flowery crop top. I do that there, it’s vast and most mornings an empty space (I can’t do that at home, I need the sunlight). 

Anyways… I pick up my things and go back to my luxury shelter, mainly to get rid of the PC and try to join this party, hoping they wouldn’t all be gone already when I come back, since it’s only a march this year due to Covid, no floats.

So I wasn’t late, I didn’t miss the march. But it made me realize that I’m alone and always have been. There were not many people alone in this parade, this 4 km march, everyone could count on a support person, right there besides them, and if I didn’t feel as though I’m the weirdest thing around as I usually do, I still didn’t feel accepted, amongst all those whom I’m supposed to be connected with, being a trans, and bisexual woman.

I’m old. That’s my category now, whether I’m transsexual, queer, strange looking, it only kind of adds up to the main fact: I’m not in the game, I cannot be, I’m too old.

I didn’t feel any connection. I’m just old. There were not many older people in that march, I’d say… 4% were over 50, no more than that. Including me.

I’m from a past that is being rejected by the youth in many ways, and they’re right to do so, because change is always what humanity needs, always, and only the youth brings that.

Only youth and some like me who remain young... who are working on it, it’s not natural for humans to do that (but I’ve always done it, since I’m like 24 years old, when I started to feel old).

Naturally, the youth relies on the elders to have some directions, that they modify with some novelty, so naturally, when a human gets old, they like it and remain in their tradition. Not me, I fought that all my life.

I wrote a post earlier on this blog about that, maybe in French though: humanity is a mix of tradition and novelty, that is a break in traditions, that’s what ensured its survival and progress, and evolution. Because without any tradition, survival is at great risk in natural conditions, as what was most of the 200,000 some years of existence of that species Homo Sapiens, and without novelty, without an unacceptance of tradition, there is no progress possible.

So traditions are for survival, but so is novelty. Neandertal lacked novelty but their very strong traditions (how to hunt, the tools…) saw them survive some 800,000 years before novelty (Homo Sapiens who came from Africa) hit them and totally surpassed them. They never evolved, really, in such a long time, so they eventually went extinct, smashed by novelty.

Now Homo Sapiens is a mix of the two species, Neandertal granting some 4-8% of the genome. And that mix was very good, for pure Homo Sapiens probably lacked good reasoning.

Yes, I’m saying Neandertal were more rational than Homo Sapiens.

Why am I talking about that?

Oh yes, youth is rejecting me since I’m old, that’s why, but they’re wrong on this one: I carry no tradition at all, I fought against tradition all my life, and especially the past 12 years since I admitted to myself I’m a woman, well a transsexual woman.

I mean actually, I always knew I was a trans woman, I just found other ways to call it, or justify it, like saying in all of my previous incarnations, I was a woman, or that I am a pink man, or a mauve man as I used to say en français. Not gay, just… not like usual men.

But anyways, I have to come to terms with that: I’m not part of the youth… well I mean they don’t see me as one of them (even though I am), so therefore, I am not one of them. It’s always just a matter of recognition.

I am barely being recognised as a human, and that’s nothing new. I never completely felt accepted wherever, neither my family…

I have no friends anymore, and those I’ve had were not friends since they’re not in my life anymore… I mean, a friend is forever, or else it’s not a friend.

Maybe I’m being too optimistic about friendship. Friendship is like love, it lasts forever. Or at least many decades.

Anyways to end this Blog post, I’ll just say that as soon as I left the crowd of that march, people started giving me strange looks again.

I’m alone, too hey. Most humans are not alone. If I’d walk with a friend, or whoever, things would be different.

I don’t have a friend. That’s why I’m writing.

And I’m old, and many boomers find me attractive.

ok… well… next blog post maybe. About those Boomers.

Dominique Rock