Dive (Acoustic Version) by Victoria Monétx In the Air by Morgan Page, Angela McCluskey, Sultan + Shepard, BT x Ice Princess by Azealia Banks.
Do you ever have those moments where you think “Why am I here? How did I get here? How did I survive this long? I can’t believe it’s not butter?” Recently, I’ve been asking myself these questions often (especially the last one). If you would have asked teenage Matt where he’d be in 2026, he would’ve answered “dead”. And only slightly jokingly. As a teenager, the thought of being in my 30’s was as foreign a concept as heterosexuality. I honestly never felt like I could see a life for myself beyond the immediate day to day. Teenage angst and short-sightedness? Definitely. Depression? Absolutely. Not having a single fucking clue what I was doing in life and feeling completely out of control? 100%. The older I get (as I’m sure we’d all agree) the more confident I’ve become in myself, and also the more at peace with the uncertainty of the world and lack of control we have in our lives. I think so often the idea of what we think our life should be fights tooth and nail against the reality of the situations we find ourselves in and we beat ourselves up about it mercilessly. And like sis, who has time for that? There’s already an entire government trying to beat you down (unless you’re a cis white man tbh). There’s the media (mainstream, social and whatever the fuck Joe Rogan is) peddling the narrative that you’re not enough. Whether that be beautiful enough. Or fit enough. Or virile enough. Or rich enough. Or whatever the eff it may be. Then you have the fact that we’re all chained to this capitalist system we’ve invested in as a society, forcing us to spend our days making money for others (who, most of the time, are so wealthy they will never have to experience crisis situations in their life) to afford a roof over our heads, and health insurance, and (god forbid) some tomfoolery. We got enough going on, shit! And I’m not saying this to say that “oh, you just shouldn’t doubt yourself because you don’t have the time to waste”. Instead I’m saying the opposite- the system is designed for you to doubt yourself. Instead, we have to support each other. Inject kindness and supportiveness and empathy into your daily interactions with people, whether you know them or not. Give folks a nod when you walk by. Shake your ass in the street. Spit on a Nazi’s face. Ya know, the little things that keep this threadbare societal fabric somewhat held together.
Speaking of barely clinging to sanity- have y’all ever watched the show Passions? It’s a late 1990’s TV soap that is absolutely deranged and campy and features witchcraft and Princess Diana and a talking doll and drug cartels and identical twins and a prom boat that gets sunk by this white bread teenager named Charity who gets evil powers from a pendant and shoots lightning bolts out of her hands. (Here– please watch this blessed media so you have it as a reference forever in your life. It’s absolutely incredible.) Anyways, I bring up Passions not only because it is pure, unadulterated, campy chaotic fun but also because each season lasts like, 100 episodes and it helps me feel like the runaway, exponentially accelerating speed of life and the universe gets slowed down just a teensy bit. Typically like 10-15 episodes will take place over the span of three days, repeating the same absurd events repeatedly and then referencing them multiple times in flashbacks. In the Passions universe, time has no meaning. It stretches and contracts like water in the cracks of pavement as it freezes and thaws, gradually prying apart the foundational blocks of reality like one massive early 2000’s Nyquil fever dream. As you watch it, it’s like staring into the abyss. Into the void. And the void always looks back at you. Sometimes in the dead of night, I can hear its penny whistle theme song quietly whispering to me. Telling me to go into the living room and turn on the TV and watch season 2 episode 256. Oftentimes I indulge. If I hesitate or fight its siren call, it yells at me in a long-dead language. It’s been my happy place this winter break.
So obbbbbviously I’m doing great right? Teehee! *twitches*. But wow- 2025- what a year am I right? I remember wondering in January how the fuck we would get through this year. Somehow we made it, and I’m still not really sure how. So much has happened. Both in the world (mostly terrible) and in our own personal spheres (hopefully mostly not terrible?) Friends got married. Friends split up. People moved (including me!!!). People graduated, and gave birth, and discovered they were pregnant, and went to rehab, and bought houses, and bought bars, and fell in love, and fell out of love, and got pets, and started new jobs, and left jobs, and went on vacations, and started art projects, and baked delicious foods, and baked not delicious foods too. We watched sunsets in all kinds of places. We watched the seasons change- from rain to sun to wind to snow and back again. We watched the stars. We watched plants, and pets, and relatives grow. We may have had loved ones leave us. We’ve all been marked in some way, shape or form. To help make sense of it all, my favorite way of marking the passage of time this year (at least since moving to Milwaukee) has been the squirrels. My desk in my room looks right out onto some large trees and power wires which make the sickest jungle gym/parkour location for the neighborhood squirrels. In summer, lil baby guys would hang out in the shade in the heat of day. During autumn, they were absolutely wilding out- chasing each other and gorging on nuts. As winter’s cold blanket descended, the squirrels were still out but not nearly as frequently. When they did brave the elements, they’d oftentimes be hunkered down against the cold like adorable, tiny babushkas in the Siberian tundra. I found myself relating to these lil critters so much this year. To the squirrels out there reading this blog- I dedicate this post to you (I know there are dozens of you!)
Most of all- I’m thankful. Thankful for this blog giving me necessary space to process my feelings, share my photography and voice my intrusive thoughts. I’m thankful for this world we live in- through all of the pain and suffering we as humans create for ourselves, this planet continues to shine with the bounty of its unpredictable beauty. And I’m eternally grateful for it all. Finally, I’m thankful for, well, YOU! My friends, family, and MORTAL BLOOD ENEMIES. You’ve kept me both grounded (in sanity) and afloat (in motivation). You’ve been there with me as I opened a more genuine window into the inner workings of how my two rabid brain cells work (and not had me committed?) We got through this fucking crazy year together, and for that I am more grateful than you’ll ever know. Unless you read this far into the blog, then you’ll have a pretty good idea 😎. To wrap up this post (and this year) I want to share some of my favorite photos of Milwaukee cloaked in early winter snow. For all of the hate that winter gets (not totally unwarranted? I mean come on who really likes subzero temperatures for weeks on end) she is so beautiful. Milwaukee is a great canvas to showcase winter’s beauty and I’m grateful to be witness to it. Anyways- before I keep babbling- plz enjoy these photos, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
As I look around my apartment in various states of being packed I can’t help but think: what a wonderful journey this has been.
Perspective is a really interesting thing. Day to day, you may find yourself wondering why life can be as monotonous as it is. Each day feels like a clone of the last- marked only by the bookends of sun rise and fall. It may feel like walking through a dense, uniform forest. Each breath feels much like the last, the scenery a cloned tapestry, the feel of damp needles and moss on your feet unchanging. What we fail to notice is a very faint upwards gradient in the earth- so minor in fact that it’s truly imperceptible. After enough time, we need to take a break (maybe for water, perhaps a nice lil pee, even a snacky or two). As we stop, we steal a glance behind us. Stretching back before us is that same forest. But now, it’s so much more. The crowns of what were the tallest trees at the start of our journey are now mere pinpricks on the distant horizon. Meadows, valleys, and ridges sprawl beneath us. A river- previously unnoticed- meanders through the dense greenery. Life may not hand us many of those metaphorical snack breaks but when we’re lucky enough to steal one- be sure to take it. Pay attention. Marvel at how far you’ve come! Reminisce on how the worries of teenage you are (oftentimes) now so minor and laughable that they now seem like a distant dream (nightmare?) Celebrate your resilience as an adult human navigating this fucking nyquil fever dream shitshow circus that is the world. Acknowledge your changes that have inevitably happened: “Was that mole always there? Why do my knees hurt when I bend like that now? When did I stop trying to impress strangers at the club? Shit- when did I stop going to the club altogether?” We are the most wonderful, complex, messy, irrational, heartfelt, confused, intentional, awkward creatures and we are all just trying to figure out how to figure it all out (well most of us. Not Ted Cruz. And others like him. They can fucking choke). I say this all because Seattle has taught me this. Seattle has helped me understand how to show up for myself, and others. Seattle has helped me be kind and gentle to myself- when I have been pretty brutal to myself for most of my life. Seattle has helped me find my voice- and I mean MY voice (not me trying to force the square peg of someone else’s words into the triangle hole of my mouth. Ok that’s a really awkward analogy that sounded better in my head but just go with it. Also kinda sexual? I mean, how can you type the word ‘peg’ and not giggle. Ok I’m done). Seattle has freed me from my self-imposed shackles; I’ve truly never felt better equipped to tackle life.
I moved to Seattle with some truly wild aspirations for the future. Making the drive up in 2019, car fully loaded with all of my worldly possessions and bestie by my side I knew this was the beginning of something magical and exciting. What 25 year old Matt could never foresee was the accompanying heartbreak, guilt, self-loathing, shame, and hopelessness that came along with these highs. My first year in Seattle was an absolutely wild ride: living in a house with a bunch of my best friends, partying harder than Matt has ever partied, exploring a brand new place with a huge gay and drag community, and doing it all living paycheck to paycheck. Pretty quintessential 20’s- amirite? I like having the benefit of perspective now, because I can look back on this time fondly (and shaking my head- what messes we were LMAO) while also realizing what an absolute disaster my mental health was. I was constantly questioning my worth- whether as an entertainer, as a friend, as a lover, or even just as a person. I was investing time and love into relationships that weren’t being reciprocated in the way I thought I needed. I was constantly beating myself up (often metaphorically, sometimes literally) over my appearance. And the substance use absolutely wasn’t helping. It’s strange looking back at pictures from this time because they are filled with so much joy (and don’t get me wrong- this time WAS filled with so much joy) knowing that there was also so much pain beneath the surface. I would go for long late night walks contemplating life, love, and what it would be like to disappear. I would write my thoughts in my phone’s notes app- although these are now long since lost (shoutout changing carriers from Verizon to T-Mobile and losing a bunch of my shit lolol). In some ways I felt trapped- feeling like I had no agency over my life, needing to consistently push myself to regularly perform, stay out drinking and socializing, working longer hours, burning the candle at both ends (also what a weird saying? how tf can you burn the bottom of a candle? Am I missing something? Am I dumb? (don’t answer that)). When I wasn’t performing, working, socializing or cleaning I was beyond burnt out. I knew this wasn’t sustainable, but felt like taking a step back meant defeat (gotta love trauma responses 💖). And then BAM!!! March 2020. Need I say more?
The COVID panda-panini-Panasonic lockdowns were a huge turning point for me (I mean wasn’t it for everyone? Shit was wild). While living through it was obviously terrifying (especially never stopping working outside the house- gotta love being an “essential worker” amirite?) I strangely/selfishly/with mix emotions-ly look back on this time with so much gratitude. It took the world shutting down to save my life. I moved out to my own place, stopped drinking and taking substances altogether (not entirely, but I would maybe drink wine once every 3 months?) and was forced to sit alone with my thoughts without feeling the constant FOMO I had in 2019 when I wasn’t out partying. I vividly remember hanging out at home one day playing Mario Odyssey on the Switch (banger of a game might I add) and realizing that “relevance” is a stupid, made-up, subjective concept that truly only means as much as you let it mean. What benefit is there to being “relevant” besides feeling an inflated sense of ego? It doesn’t make you a better person. It doesn’t clear your mind to aid in better decision-making. While it does often give you more soft power through a larger sphere of influence, that oftentimes comes with a foggying of your own self purpose. Being “irrelevant” can be a gift.
Coming out of lockdowns, I had a new mindset for my relationship with drag (and life overall too, but tbh drag WAS my life at this time). It was around this time that I started noticing that maybe I didn’t quite fit into this post-2020 drag scene. I would always hear the phrase “it girl” thrown around in the drag scene and lemme tell you- what an exhausting, hollow concept that is. It’s a currency whose value is determined by Instagram follower counts, number of recurring gigs, and who has the best coke plug. Many of these “it girls” had #BlackLivesMatter in their Instagram bio but would openly mock people looking for help through mutual aid requests. Or would still frequent clubs who treat black and brown patrons like trash (aka- why I don’t fuck with Queer Bar). Or would ONLY book black performers in February and not regularly the rest of the year. Being an “it girl” is just as flashy and meaningless as crypto. While I feel like this performative activism was pretty widespread in this era, the drag scene felt like a microcosm of some of the most toxic cultural characteristics. I was unhappy. But I was also luckier than most. I have white, male, cis, and pretty (hehehe AGREE WITH ME) privilege. I had the opportunity to carve out my own special space at several bars (hello Sunday Service and Sunday Fungay- we love a brunch gig). I had a roof over my head, and created/strengthened amazing friendships, and had food in my fridge, and made incredible memories. But before long, I found myself feeling similarly to 2019- aka the burnout was very real. Being older and (debatably) wiser, I realized that this time I probably (hopefully) wouldn’t have a global pandemic to help make this decision for me and I Bendelacreme’d myself from the scene (if you’re a straight and have no idea what I’m talking about, please watch the linked video). And let me just say- I never felt more free. This might sound like I don’t have love for drag, or the Seattle drag community and you couldn’t be more wrong. Drag has always- and will always- be a light for me (and tbh for everyone) in what sometimes seems to be an increasingly dark world. Seeing a bitch do a number dressed as a giant bottle of poppers performing Breathe, or a Voldemort burlesque number, or performing to Sandstorm (by Darude- of course) will ALWAYS get me cackling. Seeing a good ol’ fashioned pageant ballad will lock my eyes from start to finish. The way rhinestones shimmer under stage lights is a direct shot of serotonin to the synapses. And the performers here?? I mean c’mon- top notch. I’ll list a few below and link their instagrams- please show them some love/ go to their shows (and these are just a few!!! There are truly too many to mention):
Since leaving drag (omg this sounds like I left the Mormon church or Scientology or something LMFAO) it feels like life has truly opened up for me. I think for so long I placed these self-imposed guardrails regarding what I could/should do with my time and since turning 30 I’ve decided that’s really stupid! Life is way too fucking short to be trying to force yourself into a certain idea of what you think your life should be instead of just…..living. Photography has been the most amazing joy to rediscover after putting down the camera for so long. Cartography is back in my life after years apart (hello free online Arc-GIS account). Getting involved with community orgs has helped ground me and opened my eyes to how much need there is for mutual aid. Giving social media the big ol boot (and starting this blog!) has helped me redefine the way that I want to express myself in a digital space (and tbh I find this way much more fun. More challenging, for sure, but also more fun -I mean imagine if this whole post was an Instagram caption lmfaoooo.) Life may always be stressful, especially right now (I mean look around…fuck) but I feel at peace with myself- which is something I don’t know I’ve ever been able to honestly say. I’m lucky enough to have the most amazing community of people around me, to have some BOMB ass SSRIs, to have the ability to go to grad school to pursue life long dreams, and to have this amazing ass to help get me out of trouble hehehe (or into it 🤡)(sorry)(actually I’m not because it’s true)(if you have a problem with it then you have a problem with asses and that’s a you problem).
Ok damn not me writing a whole fucking college thesis about the last 6 years. I guess what I mean to say is: THANK YOU. To my irreplaceable friends who have helped me navigate possibly the most tumultuous period in my life. To drag for helping me fine tune my creative vision and for humbling me. To Seattle for the blacked-out Saturday nights, the hungover Sunday mornings, the miserable Mondays and the pussy poppin’ Tuesdays. And for this (absolutely not) comprehensive list of some of my favorite things:
The way that Seattle’s crows hop around on one foot, looking absolutely adorable and goofy as fuck
The sunset over the Olympic mountains on clear days. Nothing will ever compare to those summer evening views.
The waves of bluebells that take over every plot of open soil in the city from April through May.
SEATTLE DOGS (I mean that both as the fur babies and the dawgs with the cream cheese and sauteed onions. Especially the stand next to the gas station on the corner of Broadway and Pike. Yes- THAT gas station. I know its chaotic- that’s why I love it).
Doing molly at brunches at Lost Lake at 3 in the afternoon in 2019.
Watching sunsets over downtown from the back patio at Captain Black’s.
The back room at Rose Temple. Both during the drag brunches cutting up with the other performers and taking shots or hanging out there out of drag…..cutting up with other performers and taking shots.
The ball pit at Club Hellfire (RIP Club Hellfire mama misses you so much).
Taking the Link and busses. I will always have love for the 2 and G lines ❤
The sound of the ferry horns as they leave (and enter) port.
Falling down the stairs from the dressing room at Kremwerk and having everyone in the club hear it.
Living across the street from a cat cafe in the height of COVID and getting some much needed serotonin seeing the little babies hanging out in the window.
Hearing the Fremont Bridge blast its horn every time she needed to open for a ship to pass through (and then complaining about how stupid it is that one person’s little boat holds up traffic for so many people. Ah- road rage 💕)
Living in an ABSOLUTELY haunted house with a bunch of friends and comparing creepy ass paranormal experiences (and WATCHING a box fan turn itself off- including the dial turning- that was wild).
How the light reflects off of the skyscrapers downtown in late afternoon onto the sidewalks, streets and other buildings- making a beautiful kaleidoscope of reflections.
The big snowstorm in 2021 watching Capitol Hill completely shut down as people built snowmen in the middle of the street.
Watching Shmelsie get her hair buzzed in the middle of the street in the middle of a party.
Living above a music school and hearing kids (and adults!) in their piano lessons.
Watching the summer sun rise over Union Street at 4:30 AM on acid with no cars or people around. Just pure, peaceful beauty.
Writing on a car blocking us in our driveway on Halloween night with dry erase markers with Shmallen, Shmileana, Shmizzy and I think someone else? Shmeronika?
FERNS. EVERYWHERE. They are so magical and Jurassic and fucking amazing. Watching them start to unfurl in the spring is a magical time of year.
Spending summer days along Lake Washington at Madrona Beach (or with buns out at Denny Blaine teehee)
Getting locked INSIDE my apartment with Shmamira for like 30 minutes in the morning because we were drunk the night before and locked the hidden second lock on my door that I never used and forgot doing it (gotta love vintage doors with all kinds of weird locks on them).
The DOGS (furry baby version): Molly, Monty, Stevie, Yani, Skadi, Porter, Penny, Ash, Betty, Reese, Olie and Dagnar (RIP my babies ❤), Auggie, Pepper, Cheddar, Betsy and Woody (and so so so many more). Thank you for helping to keep me sane and always showing me the most unconditional, wholesome love.
Going to R Place (may she rest in peace) multiple times a week to watch the drag shows (and because I knew at least one of the bartenders and could get cheap drinks heeheeheehee). That place was my home and I miss her every day.
Climbing onto the roof of my apartment with neighbors and watching the sunset. The view from the Palamar’s roof was truly stunning.
When I first moved to Seattle- I marveled at how big the skyscrapers downtown were and how they rose into the sky. As I leave- the skyscrapers may look a little smaller now- but I will still continue to be filled with marvel. Thank you for everything, Seattle.
Today is a fucking joke. A really sick, dystopian joke. Honestly, adding these photos from exploring the Cascades this summer has been necessary today. Throughout my life, nature has been the one constant I can turn to to help ground my thoughts and force a reshift of my perspective. Whenever there have been times in my life where I get too overwhelmed and I start to spiral, I go for a walk. I’m constantly amazed by how much detail of the world around us we filter out on a daily basis to just get through life. The pattern of bark on a tree, and how perfectly the shadows of the overhead sun cast geometric shapes from its edges. The deceptively fragile lace of a carpet of moss dangling from a tree branch (like in photo 1). Ephemeral low hanging clouds, both obscuring and adding mystique to an otherwise nondescript hillside. The randomness and constant evolution of it all- I think that’s what resonates with me.
Absolutely nothing in this world is permanent, except for the relentless march forward of time, and change itself. It’s terrifying, it’s unknown, but it’s strangely comforting. Being a grain of sand on an endless beach surrounded by infinite equally complex and beautiful grains of sand. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, maybe it’s my SSRIs, hell maybe it’s just getting older and seeing the world in a different light. All I know is that being that nameless grain of sand- it has helped me more than I can explain. While each grain is independent and has a unique history and makeup, in each moment of time they all collectively make up something so much larger.
I guess I don’t really know what I intended to write in this post, except to share my thoughts as they came to me today. Today is bleak. Today is scary. But there have been endless bleak, scary days for so many people throughout history. It’s just another wave washing up against so many of those grains of sand.
I wanted to finish this post listing some resources for organizations and causes I’m currently either donating to or volunteering with, in case you want to join in maybe improving things for your neighboring grains of sand. And PLEASE email, text, etc. me with any information about mutual aid requests, volunteering events, etc. I want to dedicate a space in my blog for keeping myself and folks on here updated on ways to help our grains.
Real Rent Duwamish – local (Seattle area). Pay reparations to the Duwamish Tribe, who were forcibly expelled from their land in the Seattle area.
Nisqually Land Trust– local (Puget Sound based) organization purchasing and remediating land along the Nisqually River and its tributaries to reverse centuries of environmental degradation and restore it to a healthy, functioning ecosystem. Works closely with the Nisqually Tribe.
Food Lifeline– local (Puget Sound based) organization collecting excess food from producers to redistribute to groups facing hunger. I’ll be participating in a volunteer event at 9 AM on February 8th if anyone would like to join me!
And remember- fuck ICE. You are NOT required to disclose any information if they come to you. Here’s some more information on knowing your rights regarding immigration status.
P.S.- I hope you enjoy these photos, and that they help provide a shot of serotonin on a day where we all probably need some.
La Vida Veeta 