B_BRAVE!

B_BRAVE!

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Always and never?

Friends tell me to “B” brave and I wander and wonder with whom who they are speaking? Is it this “B”? It must Be me, no One else is around when they are saying it and it was written to my cell number. I got the message in my cell, “B”.

Feeling a bit like a Jail Bird, these days I didn’t really want to be a writer. Still, this Bird in me is an author by trade (trading words?). None the less, this Bird? SHe wants to sing so she writes these messages in a bottle to the person sHe is waiting to consume.

Consume? Write, wrong word choices perhaps. Anyway, this is my millionth publication and to be fair, I wasn’t able to write to You for a while.

Family? I’ve been busy with a FULL TIME job with a family, more than a few in fact.

With that, I haven’t had much time to be a very good writer, feel social or network. I’m sorry about that, but I understand there were 7 other billion voices from which to choose who were all willing and able to BE social here. I’m just one bird, really.

B_Brave, Bird?353A4D5E-EBBC-4DF3-AB8F-030D9CC2BF49

This Bird has seen my share of struggle. Even times when I thought that I knew best, when I sailed through storms instead of stopping to rest. It always seems the hardest when I’ve made up my stubborn mind, well.. I am changing my ways this time.

Writing here, I want to be like water coming down a mountain into shadowy canyons, bound for the sea. Heading up hill no more, I am bound for the sea with these bird wings. I was born to wander with these words. This poetry in a paragraph, it’s weird.

But, have you ever seen an Eagle head straight into the wind? He doesn’t pick a fight, he spreads his wings and just gives in. And, in the end of that flight he always makes it Home just fine. I guess he knows every storm subsides.

Today, I’ll let nature take it’s course. No more thinking that I know where this river is meant to go, or railing against the stars for the cards that I was dealt or the lottery I never won. Gone today is the heart ache that I never felt and am trying to forget.

Gone? It always seemed that when I let go of expectation and regret, life has plenty of surprises for me yet.

~Stephanie Bird

IMG_2414

p.S.urprise!

I am

(was)

*ROAR*

a writer,

(and an artist

and a _____

and an educator

and a biz consulant

and a _______ “Jesus”

and a *sigh*

seriously? enough…

I’m going to GO COLOR

A RAINBOW.

Testing:

Testing:

Is this thing ON?

VANITY! VANITY: 

all is vanity?

When they said “brave”

I don’t think

THIS

is what they meant?

Sex?!? Look, Mom & Dad!

Sex?!? Look, Mom & Dad!

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It’s time…

…to keep talking about sex. My sex, your sex, it’s time to talk about it. Expression is what I need to release these stories I have telling myself about my sex:

I’m fe/MALE.

I’m fe/male.

I’m she-male!

Born a female, I’ve decided to remain a woman for life. Those parts came with this soul, these bones, this skin, that hair and my face. Some days, I feel more like a man and that’s beautiful too. But, I was identified as “female” on my birth certificate and I still am a purple “Stephanie Bird!” to my parents when they get mad (which is definitely possible when using a funny picture of a dildo, I am “WORSE for words”).

Mom? Dad? I have no parents, but when I do, I sure hope those two love Birds love me enough to love me after this publication I called Birdanity. Win or lose with my parents, I was a parent too and it’s not easy to be a parent.

In any case, that’s the story today. I love human(s), and I have sex(es). Simple as that, and this morning needs to be a simple story for a simple gender fluid hu/man.

~Rev’d Bird

 

 

big_SUR_sir?

big_SUR_sir?

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This writing thing, this dreaming of being a writer thing, it all started in Big Sur (several years ago). I need to be back there again. Today, I feel like I need to be in a beautiful place again. There is something special to me there and I need something special.

About me? I don’t want to write this art anymore either, these stories about me and these stories about my life’s work. I don’t even want to express my personal life. I want to let go of writing for a little while and just go away to write somewhere about wandering around in nature. That’s what I need – nature – feeling natural around a community of natural people.

There is something wrong with you…

Can You hear me?

Do you read me?

Do You copy?

My friend “E” tells me that she things there is a major energy shift and because she was sick all last night too. After being so ill for such a long time… I told her it was a dream to leave too. To run, I need an adventure for a while, and to disconnect from the lights and the sounds and the…to be with new friends or maybe just one old one that i haven’t seen for a while.

Maybe I need to be like Jesus for a while with Forty days of “my life on the road” or “out in the wilderness” would be nice too. Being a young writer, trying to take off. Where do I go?

When Birdanity is where I took off already.

Do you see “me” here?

Birdanity is my Book of Life. It’s also a complete and accurate historical record of this life as One wo/man they named,

~Stephanie Bird~

p.s. my head hurts will all these words, brain synapses and connections that never existed before. It’s a nightmare of wires up there, but it’s me (steph bird, your friend?

r…not?

and… why?

is that?)

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Steph_Bird_MOVES? 2_Birdanity.com!

Steph_Bird_MOVES? 2_Birdanity.com!

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I know you may not know me yet,

but after this entry You will. I am not a servant, I am a God of servants and that’s me, in a nut shell. Birdanity was never about “me”. It was about “you” and reflecting my experiences with You. It was creatively writing to release these internal traumas that feel so fierce, they must flow through me. You are all God’s to me and I am just a writer to this plural number of gods and goddesses.

Gods and goddesses?

I told you that I owned “Birdanity” before we started this little adventure, but you really own it. I told you that it was copywrite in every possible way, and you laughed at me inside. I am a Spirit here, I am a Creator here, and I am a mess too (with you).

Birdanity? On the outside you may have smiled and even nodded your head in agreement, but inside you laughed and never looked me up because I never mentioned that I had millions of lovely followers just like me, millions of hits, millions of views and billions of life forms that are available to laugh with me too. I never mentioned all that because I didn’t need to, you already knew with your own audience of __#___?

Birdanity? I owned “me”, and my personal time. I own Birdanity in my personal time, which is for free and always will be. Free time is me time. Free time is also “we” time. It’s free for you to visit this site, it’s free for you to see me, and I intend to keep it that way for quite a while.

A coach by trade, I am a coach in every possible way. I may not be Triathlete-certified, but I am a coach too in this medicine of word. I am a consultant, I am a friend, and I am a love. People even ask me to coach them in my “we” time, and they do it all the time. Lawyers, judges, owners, lovers, friends, they all want something, don’t they? Human Resources…

They want knowledge. They want friendship, and they don’t want to have to pull out their wallet to get a peace of friendly advice they may or may not take.

Fiduciary advice? Don’t ask if that’s what you want. Not from a friend, no. That’s pretty much how we all roll these days, as most lawyers do together as friends in this criminally UNJUST system. But I’m no lawyer and I never ate that bar of academia they were trying to push at me.

Legal counselor?

Not even a little,

no thank you,

“But I have heard from a lawyer friend and he said…”

That’s just it, isn’t it?

How we give friendly legal advice?

Enough is enough.

I know who I am, do you?

And, I am looking for a new:

job.

location.

life.

Outlook.

Vacation.

WAY_OUT!

WEST..I guess..?

“Home is where the heart is,” they say….

~Stephanie Bird

p.s. tonight, I begin a career journey to somewhere old and new. Tonight is the moment that I begin to look at my life differently. Tonight is when I listen to the songs of my Youth, and the moment where I stop looking back to December of years ago when this old job felt fancy and the people I met felt phenomenal. Tonight is the moment that I search, when and where I will find?

You, again…

I am always following You, aren’t I? No matter where I go… I’m always looking for You everywhere I go and God, you look an awful lot like a child of God? to me. Beautiful in every possible way, you are my equal and I miss You and what You felt like to sleep near as a human here on Earth.

I need you,

Who? The voice of truth, it tells me a different story about names. The voice of truth says…

Oh what I would do to have

The kind of faith it takes

To climb out of this boat I’m in

Onto the crashing waves

To step out of my comfort zone

Into the realm of the unknown where Jesus God is

And SHe’s holding out His hand

But the waves are calling out my name

And they laugh at me

Reminding me of all the times

I’ve tried before and failed

The waves they keep on telling me

Time and time again. “Boy, you’ll never win!”

“You’ll never win!”

But the Voice of Truth tells me a different story

The Voice of Truth says, “Do not be afraid!”

And the Voice of Truth says, “This is for My glory”

~Casting Crowns – Voice Of Truth Lyrics

p.s.S. this is for all the glory…

this is it

the apocolypse?

Welcome to the new “free” age of Birdanity, where……

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people_don’t_*YELL*?

people_don’t_*YELL*?

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Bosses don’t… YELL?!?…

No, they don’t and they shouldn’t. When/if they cannot control their temper and when interactions become so heated that they reach out and slap you with their words by way of their yelling, it’s considered abuse. It’s highly sensitive, it’s highly emotional, it may even be understandable when sHE becomes HEated, and it’s?

Abuse.

It is.

It always will be.

Period.

End of story.

but wait…

Dear Sirs,

or madams,

Who? YELL,

You are abusive!

I tried to tell “you”!

I tried to meditate with “you”!

I tried to be quiet and listen!

I even tried to tell “you” to stop!

I told you yelling was UNHEALTHY!

I told you in all the ways…

I could remember to tell..

and?

In my own way,

I tried to stop you!

BUT

You didn’t know how to…

Non-violently communicate

YOU didn’t know how to…

Listen….

&_Now…

I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSIVE?

Daughters &

Sons…

Who were also?

Absued.

Absuited.

Abused.

Abusers.

Bullies.

Mean boys!

Mean girls?

When it happens?

Remember,

“I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSE!”

Speak UP!

Or fore!/ever hold your peace?

(THIS IS Magic to YOU?!?!?!?!? It’s….non-violent communication RAINBOWS to me!)

That’s what this is!

Rainbows about?

Yelling!

No more

Angry yelling!

Say you’re sorry?

“BOSS”?

FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#identity_THIEFS#

#identity_THIEFS#

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It’s 4am again and here I am, writing to You live from…where am I again?

In any case, there’s something about privacy and security that I care very little to try and keep safe or sacred. I’m told that I should protect my privacy and even my identity and assigned number, but removing every piece of data about “me” from every picture, post and expression would also remove this peace of mind that I already feel. A peace that surpasses all understanding, I am safe.

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>

Do you remember when we were kids and we played games with “safe” zones? When there were places within the game that you couldn’t get “out” or “killed”? I want to live in one of those safe zones as an adult too. I even want to be a walking “safe” zone, and because I can guarantee you that I’m usually the first monkey to speak up, push back, take you outside if I need to, then spank you with my bare hands as you run home to Mommy or Daddy to tell them that someone didn’t play fair.

Fair.. is also recognizing that lately, I need a “vacation” from my regularly scheduled programming of a life. I’m tired inside, I feel fairly hollow and almost empty. I’ve been writing to You for all these years, but I’m not sure why anymore because you never write back.

There’s very little to live or fight for here on Earth, and when men whom I’ve never met send me messages like the one above, there is at least a moment where I get scared for my life and physically worry for my own safety. I fear my life in a legitimate way, and that’s not 100% my fault either.

What do I do with all these fears?

I ? close the windows, lock my doors at night, then crawl into bed and curl up into a ball alone to cry my fears to the God of my understanding. Hoping, above all hopes, that tomorrow I will wake up and the Earth will be a “better” place than it was the night before. Sadly, the world is never “better” than it was the night before and instead, it gets darker and heavier as the days ware on…

It was never the God of “your understanding” or a human who will “save me” from this fear now, my future life or my past. It was never a human who will “kill me” either. Instead, it was simply me, alone, who made this mess of a skin. One that hopes someday, I will feel “safe” again in this suit…

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>

~Steph Bird

p.s. If I suddenly can’t be found and my friends/family have no idea where I went? Roger Davidson from Florida(?) ‘rogerd327’ wrote the above (and yeah, I’m legitimately a little scared that someone I’ve never met is “claiming me”, but a man’s gotta be able to express himself as a hunter too, I suppose…).

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>

Home? Lost in my mind!

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I’m Back…?

Hello world, I hope you are listening. Forgive me if I’m young or speaking out of tongue. But, there’s someOne I’ve been missing and I think that they might be the better part of me. There are in the wrong place trying to make it right, but I’m tired of justifying. So I say to you,

Come home…

Come home……

‘Cause I’ve been waiting for you for so long. For so long! And right now? There’s a war between the vanities, but all I see is you and me. The fight for you is all I’ve ever known. So come home!

Home? I get lost in the beauty of everything I see. The world ain’t as half as bad as they paint it to be. If all the sons and if all the daughters stopped to take it in, well hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin. It might start now. Well maybe I’m just dreaming out loud. Until then,

Come home

Come home!

You don’t want to lose me now?

Someone to save you?

Dreaming out loud?

I’m lost in my mind?

You’re already home where YOU feel love?

Oh my brother?

Oh my sister?

Your wisdom is older than me.

Oh my brother, don’t you worry about me.

Don’t you worry about me!

How’s that

How’s that bricklayin’ comin’?

How’s your engine runnin’?

Is that bridge gettin’ built?

Are your hands gettin’ filled?

Won’t you tell me, my brother?

‘Cause there are stars

Up above

We can start

Moving forward!

Where does the music come from?

It could be right in front of you

With so many seats to choose from

You sit where you always do

’til you won’t someday

No more crying from the balcony

Go find your front row seat

Don’t be a stranger to the

SYMPHONY

Feel your real heartbeat?

Where does peace of mind come from?

I

could be

right

WRITE

in front

of You!

 

A creative Sunday mash
of art/lyrics
by Stephanie Bird
Chris Trapper
The Head And The Heart
One Replublic