The Queen- The Reina

I do hope that everyone who stumbles upon this blog knows that it is, of course, run by a secret hidden Queenie right? Like ... I am da biggest Queenie of all time ... behind the scenez.. and I think, maybe, yet again, like... IDK ...it's just that sometimes the Queen wants to reveal herself. Properly. In full. She wants to be HEARD ya know? Not necessarily seen (cuz she is never made up right) but a bitch definitely likes to be heard. She likes to be read. If only she knew what to really write..

Well, I should take that back, because the truth about the Reina in me (thats Spanish for Queen) is that she likes to write a hell of a lot. In fact, at times, this little bitch has taken over my notebook entirely with all sorts of weird, queer fantasies. Fantasies that, when I wake up and read them back to myself at 9 in the morning, I am sickened and disgusted to read. I have described it before haven't i? Probably. 20 times maybe. I don't know. Because I am like a charactr in a novel about amnesia: I don't bloody remember anything after it happens. So a lot of my thoughts , i guess they repeat. So what though you know baby???? A good writer always has one main theme; and so too does a good QUEEN.

So maybe at this point the reader might wonder where or when exactly the queen in me wuz really born. Like really really born. Well, in truth, it's hard to say, but I mostly think the Queen in me was always alive, deep down somewhere, but what happened was that I felt she was completely prohibited and illegal , so I never dared let her out. In fact, I think I kept the queen so discreetly hidden and contained inside my "bottle" that , eventually, even I myself did not realize she wuz there. You dig? Then what happened was that I started reading more shit, and the next thing I knew ...BOOM!!!!!!! Lil Queenie popped out. On some real shit. Hell Lil Queenie didn't just pop out. She went on some femme rapper shit (hehe) and took a knife to my throat and said to me ... she said.. "yo boy, if ya don't let me breathe, I won't let yo mo fuckin ass breathe..." Get it? The queen is essentially holding me hostage. She insists I pay her homage. She is a violent bitch and she is armed. Bitch got a knife and she keeps me locked up and I have to pay her proper respects , and then she lets me out, so I can do my thang.

 It's hard to explain, but it's like, the Queen doesn't hate my "boy self". She think he is a smart dude and everything. She digs what he got going on. She learns a lot from him, and he is sure to teach her things she would, like, never fuckin' stumble on in a million YEARS! But she still demands true power over this vessel ... .aka ...this body...this, as they say in Spanish, cuerpo. If the body was a house, the Queen wants the master bedroom.

Speaking of Spanish, in fact, I personally think it is a language that has a lot to do with the Queens emergence . I think she is mostly a Spanish speaker, really, which is why she is hard to pull out in English for me at times, and though you might not believe it, most of the Queens greatest friends (and I am talking real friends now) have all been Spaniards or Italians. Again, its a little difficult for a bitch to explain, but basically it went like this: When I first started learning Italian, as a boy, and talking to ragazzas in Naples, I for some reason also began to see the queens face occasionally "flash by in the night". This was especially the case with one ragazza in particular named Flavia from Rome. To this day I literally have no idea if Flavia is a transgender or an actual born woman, but i think she looks like a transgender and she used to say things that seemed vaguely transgender. I don't kow how to describe those things, but she used to say them.

And I used to talk to Flavia on the phone, in Italian, 3-4 days a week, for hours at a time, and then I even met her, three times, in fucking Rome, and so , I dunno, it was like I started to feel the queen emerging through Flavia, because we were really intimate, but it wasn't like amantes (lovers), it was instead just like friends. Like I was Flavia's best friend for awhile, and it made a white boi feel GIRLIE.  Therefore, once Flavia put the Italian language on my tongue after countless conversations about so many things, the next thing happened: Spanish became infinitely easier to understand in all its forms, and so what happened but that strange characters in South & Central America became, for the most part, totally comprehensible. This was a big move for the queen because, if you have ever watched pornography that features "chicks with dicks", you'll know that many of them seem to come from South America. Like, there is a big problem with femininity down in America's Spanish south (Juarez is particularly horrific for women) but there also, at times, seems to be this enormously larger transgendered movement happening down there. Spanish people all seem vaguely more feminine than plain jane Americans, I guess, and so they perhaps create more trans folk. Being a bitch talking Spanish is very fun for many reasons I might try to explain in a bit. The main point though is that I',m convinced the South Americans -- uncircumcised as they are --- create more trans folk. 

 For example, I used to have this one South American transgendered porn star I loved called "Bia Bastos".   She's from Sao Paulo, Brazil, born just a year before me, in 1988. She also goes by the name "Bia Di Filipo"... and man...no, girl....I used to watch her all the time , and ....well, I guess I just thought we looked similar. If I put makeup on, I look a lot like Bia Bastos. Cause we both got that Latin face, diggggg? So I would watch Bia get on down and give some dude a BJ and wear big platinum pumps and hot mini skirts and shit, and I' be like... woah...I think I'm...getting.....hypnotized! Into being a woman! A MUJERE! Jesus, what is going to happen to me? I started to imagine myself swallowing those weird scientific hormone pills and popping tits. One afternoon I got caught shaving my big hairy legs by friends. Then another I just showed up to a get together (rare for me to show up anywhere) with black eyeliner on, and within an hour a girl at the party added eyeshadow and......

I am talking too much. The Queen is a fucking snake. Un serpiente. She sneaks out when I don't want her to . She is so hard to control. You know what I feel like? I feel like I have a big bottle or something and there's a hole in it. From the hole the Queens feminine pink juices keep leaking all over everything. I desperately want to j ust throw the bottle out and shatter it but I can't bring myself to do it. It smells too good, I guess. Like pussy. Like ... pink. Plus it brings--as I was saying before--a lot of interesting people to my life, whom I never would meet when I just perform as "The Man".

The people that the Queen introduces me to, in fact, are probably the best part of the whole fucking' thang.As a man, I kept running into people who all felt like clones of one another: The boys I would run into were all just trying to be tough all the time, and woo women, and when I would run into women, they would just judge me as a boy who was "secretly" trying to woo them, so they'd never want to talk intimately with me. As a queen--especially a queen speaking Spanish---I don't have this problem at all. When I become Ariel, Pamela, Amber, Kaylee --- I always take a different name, hehe-- I suddenly meet people, generally women, who actually have something interesting to say. It's very fun. Women friends are, like, infinitely better than male ones, at talking. Males are fucking wretched at talking. Every conversation ends after 5 minutes. "What up?" "Nuttin'" "Payce". Not so with women. These convos now, they stretch on from 7 PM to fucking 5 AM!!!! It's like bliss. My women friends from places like Lima, Peru, Chihuahua, Mexico, Brazil, and Madrid...man, they are AWESOME!!!!! They exchange things with you that men never will. Men suck. I hate men. Not totally. But for the most part I just think they are so fucking, like, locked down, you know? Everyone says how women are all sorts of limited; everyone don't be realizing how imprisoned men are. Life as a dude is very bland. I can't wear a scarf without thinking I might have to fight for my life to the death.

Honestly though, you probably think it's mostly about the dick sucking for the queen, right? You think she's just some horny bitch looking to catch a hot dick up her culo. It's not the whole deal though, baby. She also just likes conversation....... and the men in her life never gave that to her...... fucking punks that they were! So now this is a big reason she comes out, usually at night. She has better friends than the man part of me. Way better  friends. Her most recent one is from Lima. So cool. LIMA! It's a half indigenous chick named Lesli. Lesli is awesome. She talks constantly..about everything. I -- for real--  can't even imagine meeting a man from there and talking reasonably with him, like I talk to Lesli.  We'd be at war or something after 5 days over politics. Two bitches though? Whoop, there it is. Immediate connection. "How many Queen Latifah videos can I send you, baby, before you hate me?" "I'll never hate you, we're Besties." "Ohhh si ...I love you ... ti amo..." See what I mean? In fact, I'm going to send her another vidoe right now, to brighten her afternoon. It's a video by an artist she sent me, a Portoriquena named --what else?-- "Ivy Queen". Ivy Queen is very good; I really like her. She has a spirit that is feminine in all those Latin ways I descrbied before. She's completely unlike anyone in the English scene. Down there I guess they also call her "La Caballota". Google says it translates as horse. She doesn't seem at all interested in talking about soldiers or fighting wars in Afghanistan. Incredibly relieving for a white American man...boy...faggot.

But oh! Now I remember what I wanted to say about why it's sooooo much better, in my opinion, to be a bitch in Spanish than a bitch in English. OK, so how exactly can I explain this? Where can I start? I think a good place would perhaps be with television, and in specific television shows that are run by women. I know, it seems off topic right? But it isn't. It's very connected. See, one of the first things I came to find when I started learning these Latin languages , was that the female TV hosts are -- or at least seem to me-- to be wildly different than the female TV hosts in English. Like, it's a seriously unbelievable difference, in my opinion. I don't want to offend anyone, but all of the women characters I have met in English/American TV always seem kind of dull and lifeless to me. They seem not interesting. Bland, plain, quiet, tranquil, not wanting to really "scream" or "get excited". They also often seem as though they're, like, ashamed to be women or some shit. They don't seem to have any fun (and pink) feminine oomph to them. In short, they don't smell much like pussy to me. Ellen is probably the perfect example of this, and so too is practically the entire cast of The View, I hate to say. They just don't seem to be having any fun, girl. Yes I dig them, as my American sisters, but something seems different about them to me. They seem all serous all the time and shit. Like they is in a box, and trapped. I can't stand it. The only American female TV host who does it for me truly is Wendy Williams. She actually references cool shit that I'm marginally concerned with, like Cardi B and Tami Roman and shit like that. Watching The Wendy Williams Show perhaps leaves me feeling mildly drenched in pink. Not so with Ellen and others. Not so at all. They just feel like hanging around in the dark miserable 50s or something. Fuck that man. I'm trying to hop a bitch train here. I'm trying to pick up a glass of pink champagne and drink that shit till I'm choking!!!!! I'm trying to shake my little white boi ass to La Caballota here.