Agender Annual Patch Notes

It’s quite jarring to now be 25 and feel as if I’ve spent a quarter century failing to interpret and thereafter articulate who I actually am. Last year, I aimed to proclaim and embody a generative existence; this is in spite of the fact that I, simultaneously, renounced an aspect of being. I strongly maintain that I desire to live through creation, not negation — the pinnacle, however, is embodying the creation of being through negation of the negation. That is: to become a thing by not being that which I am not.
 

For much of the past half decade, and perhaps my whole life, I’ve felt like I’m ensnared by the pervasive rapids of existence. In spite of the whirling rivers, I’ve seldom felt myself drown or gasp for air. On a good day: under water, feeling the ten thousand metres of ocean above me; on a bad day:
serene zen?
    crushing
        spinning
            silence?
 

All my life, I’ve loved moving water. Watching the Don River crawl along as I peered down from the Bloor Viaduct; watching the way it snakes along a driveway after my carelessness with a hose let it escape the flowerbed; the immense power of the waves I watched nearly sweep my grandfather into the Pacific. It’s fitting, then, that I’ve told myself over and over again that I’m a mountain steam and fully at the whims of the swerving course I’ve found myself racing along. That the rushing river appears to dash down the slope; the cascades stripped of will. I must remember, that if I am water, that water is not bound by the rocks and stones it sprints amidst. The water carves the stone to its will. I think back to the Grand Canyon and how I walked and walked all day, but each time I looked across to the other side it felt like I hadn't moved a single step forward.  Clearly, I’ll need to cut my own way through life. After all, I am that I am.
 

 

Pictured: Me soyjaking at the Grand Canyon in 2013

Somewhat recently, I’ve stopped steadfastly refusing to tell people what pronouns they ought to use for me and have instead been saying any/none. I’ve felt that this inherent contradiction effectively communicates both my self-image as well as what pleases me to hear. I’ve always hated names; I feel anxious saying them and I feel more anxious hearing one for me. Nonetheless, I can’t exactly go about living w/out being called something specific. The best remedy I feel would be to adopt several. Despite my desire to have 20 or 10,000 names; I once again ought to yield to practicality and only adopt 3 or 4.

Hi! I’m Justin or Ume (梅) or Adelaide (any/none)! I’m 25 now and starting to go grey! I really have scorn for the body and wish I was pure essence or at least like a snake or something.  Thank you so much to everyone who’s let me vibe this past year and for helping me learn and triumph over myself!  I love you all! Perhaps I will be more coherent next year <3

P.S.  Ume means plum which, while obviously synchronizing with my surname and my tag, is also in honour of the birthplace of my great-great-grandparents since the plum blossom is the prefectural flower of Fukuoka & like idk Adelaide sounds cool??? I used to live near Adelaide St???