BOYSWAG

7 SONGS.
IT'S WHAT I SET OUT FOR MYSELF WHEN BOYSWAG STARTED FORMING.
A SONG FOR EACH LETTER — AS TO NOT OVERWHELM MYSELF WITH AMBITION.

I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS COMING. I THOUGHT I'D STICK TO GUITAR.
MUSIC WAS HOW I FOUND MY VOICE, THAT I HAD A STORY TO TELL.
BUT IT'S ALSO HOW I LIVE, WHERE I GET TO BE AT MY MOST VULNERABLE —
SHOWCASING MY ABILITY TO NOT JUST CREATE AND SING AND HANDLE MY PAIN
BUT MY OVERALL APTITUDE FOR LIFE. AT LEAST, THE LIFE I REALLY WANT.

SO MAYBE IT WAS JUST THE GROWING EXCITEMENT IN ME SEEMINGLY SPURRING OUT OF INSANITY,
OR A VENGEFUL SPIRIT GENUINELY LEAPING INTO MY BODY
AS FATE STRIPPED ME OF A HOME AND THAT GUITAR —
SENDING ME TUMBLING OUT OF A FRESH BREAK-UP INTO SOMETHING
FREEING AND OUTRIGHT EVIL YET ALSO GOOD AND HEALING. A REVENGE STORY.

IT'S JUST, I SHOWED MY SOFTEST, PRETTIEST, MOST EMOTIONAL SIDES OF ME
TO THE WORLD AND ALL THE WRONG PEOPLE FOR SO LONG.
I WANTED PEOPLE TO SEE THAT THOSE ASPECTS OF ME MIGHT SEEM MORE HIDDEN
BUT THEY'RE JUST AS REAL AND IMPORTANT AS THE OXYGEN WE BREATHE.

I ALSO DID THAT BECAUSE IT FELT SAFER. NUANCE ISN'T ALWAYS APPRECIATED.
READING BETWEEN THE LINES IS A LOST ART. ANYTHING IN BETWEEN IS A CONSTRUCT,
WHICH MEANS IT HAS AN ARCHITECT, WHICH SUGGESTS RESPONSIBILITY.
HERE I AM, A TRANS WOMAN UNDER THE ARTIST NAME
LUKAS ASTRAL.
I TRANSITIONED AT 21. NOW I SIT COMFORTABLY IN MY SKIN,
CLOTHES ONLY AS CLOSE TO MASCULINE AS MY DYSPHORIA LETS ME WITHOUT LOSING MY MIND.

BECAUSE I LIKE TO PUSH THE ENVELOPE. I THINK I ALWAYS PLANNED TO,
AND THAT MEANT BEING OKAY WITH SCARING PEOPLE.
IT TURNS OUT YOU SCARE A LOT OF PEOPLE AWAY BEING YOURSELF THOUGH.
PEOPLE YOU LOVED YOUR WHOLE LIFE — FAMILY, FRIENDS, COMMUNITY FACES
YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D MISS, ALL DISAPPEARING FROM YOUR LIFE NEVER TO BE FOUND AGAIN.

THE RESULTING ISOLATION IS SCARY PERFECT BREEDING GROUND FOR INSANITY —
ONE OF THE MANY THINGS I'VE BEEN ACCUSED OF AS A TRANS PERSON GROWING UP.
BUT EVEN THEN, I TRY NOT TO LET IT GET TO ME —
AND IF IT DOES, I ALCHEMIZE IT INTO ART.

THERE'S A CERTAIN DESPERATION THAT IS DEEPLY BURROWED IN EVERYONE,
YET ONLY FEW TOUCH IT WITHOUT GOING MAD. BUT I LIVED IN THAT DESPERATION FOR A BIT.
IT'S LIKE A PORTAL. AN OPEN WINDOW. SOMETIMES THE BREEZE IS NECESSARY.
SOMETIMES THE WRONG THINGS CRAWL IN.