I who may well be...

Musings from the perspective of a human being who may well be not locatable completely within the usual categories of male or female or gay or straight or transsexual or intersexed or exploiter or exploited or supplier or consumer or performer or spectator.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Vale Paris

Paris, an Aboriginal transgender friend of mine, was found hanging dead in her prison cell on Monday.
I'm glad she lived as long as she did, given the forces arrayed against her. And I am glad it looks more likely she was not kiiled simply by the prison system, as so many tranys were, but by the sort of thing almost inevitable given the number of people with serious grudges against the poor girl. But I am having a little bit of a crying day for her. She never done me wrong, and I knew her about twenty years from when she was but a teenage queen at the Courthouse hotel early opener, before she became a scene stealer on William Street, a black Barbie doll with attitude. She even featured in my comic book An Hour on the Life of a Spansexual Sex Worker, which records my view of the incident when she was first banned from one of the safe houses (which is now closed). Vale, Paris.

1 Comments:

  • At 21 March, 2009 06:08, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Hey hun,
    Im glad someone has written something for the beautful soul qw all knew and cared for.
    I was searching the web for ews articles on her death for ages n couldnt find anything!! Is there anything written about it or is there a cover up going on?

     

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