The Wheel and Axle

Mamu; And A Mother, Too may seem, on the surface, just another film about the lives of transwomen, one that could either be too inappropriately comedic or else much too maudlin and schmaltzy.

And yet, it carefully avoids these while still retaining humor and heart.

The titular Mamu is a veteran transwoman sex worker living with her long-time partner, Vincent. Due to her estranged sister’s death, Mamu ends up taking her teenaged niece – Bona, who is also trans – into their home. Amidst poverty and growing walls between her and Vincent, Mamu struggles to adjust to having an adopted daughter who is as strong-willed as she is but who is perhaps not yet as street smart. It is the comparison and contrast between Mamu and Bona that drives much of the film, and the question of the repeating cycles of life and the possibility (or impossibility) of breaking those cycles becomes increasingly critical.

(continue reading…)

All of us want things.

Sometimes, we don’t need things.

But all of us want things.

I remember a time of utter selfishness, when I felt the pain of not getting the wants, of ignoring the needs for the wants, of reaching for nothing else but the wants.

It felt like a void.

A void where the wants multiply endlessly.

The void, I remember.

A thousand needles made their way into my psyche, like a heart that beat faster than the fluttering of a hummingbird. There was hurt, yes, but then surprisingly there was also numbness – one that came from realizing just how insignificant one truly was after it kept on hitting your head with a hammer.

(continue reading…)

Sometimes, you just want the rage take you over.

It takes a hold of you.

It builds up within.

And it makes you want to… scream.

But you check yourself.

You keep it in because it may be the right thing to do.

May.

Still, it eats at you from inside, and you realize that there has to be a different way to let it out. There has to be a way to let the frustration take form so as not to let it drown you with it. There has to be a way for you to not let the power consume you and him and every single other innocent that stands in the path towards serenity.

(continue reading…)

You get pulled in different directions by those imprisoned emotions.

There is a sense of fear and paranoia, of impending pain or loss if things aren’t handled right. As though everything needs to be perfect, and a single  – even minor – lapse of judgment feels like the world falling apart.

Then, there’s the excitement of possibilities, many which may not come to pass soon, but it is intoxicating because of the what might be’s. The what might be’s are a drug, you see, creating a feverish illusion that you know could not be good, but you revel in it, anyway. Illusion is reality in the mind, and mind can shape reality.

You listen to the voices of others whose perception of reality may be more acute than you wanted to give them credit for. Until you realize you want to give them that.

(continue reading…)

Recently, I asked my friend Evan whether he’s experienced the desire to just cry, to let it all out in a wave of tears, yet nothing comes out – no matter how much you try to force it all out.

He said yes.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m alone on that one.

I guess not.

The last time I truly wept was a little over six years ago. In hindsight, the reasons were cringworthy and pathetic. It was ultimately not worth the tears, and hell I never even wept that way over the ex with whom I had the most connection with.

But six years is a long time, and since then, I’ve never experienced any kind of major inner turmoil that would warrant a flood of weeping.

(continue reading…)