Filed under: Uncategorized
Oh hello. It’s been a while.
I’ve been really, really angry lately. Like, angry at everything I see. I continually feel pressured to not talk about this anger, not talk to people around me about what I see and why it angers me.
I wish I/we lived in a world where we were encouraged to be actually angry about things, instead of constantly being encouraged to “see the positivity in everything.”
Let’s encourage people to be angry, because that’s the kind of energy that actually gets things done. Let’s be angry that people of color are being continually executed by police in the streets. Let’s be angry that Queer & Trans kids are getting kicked out of their homes, being forced to do whatever they can do to survive. Let’s be angry that the mainstream gay culture is encouraging kids to come out and yet when they do, suddenly they realize that no support exists for them and they are on the streets with no where to go. Let’s be angry that depression is such a taboo subject, leading to no one being able to talk about it. Let’s be angry that mental health assistance in this country is a fucking joke.
It’s okay to be angry. We have a lot to be angry about and if you aren’t, then you need to check that privilege and ask yourself why. Why are you able to completely ignore all the horrible things that happen in the world? Is that because you have *magic powers* and are able to process all of this in a way that no one else can, or is that you simply are not paying attention?
Filed under: Uncategorized
I’m just going to leave this vague post here for now, maybe I’ll come back later to work on it:
I feel like it’s telling that, because of you, I cried for the first time in years (literal years). It’s telling because you’re the same person I cried about, while updating livejournal, many years ago.
When we started hanging out again, after many years of not talking, I thought about this exact moment. I wondered if I was really ready to be your friend again, after you hurt me several years ago. I made the decision that I was ready, but was I wrong?
I asked and then made it very clear to you that I was planning on staying at your house tonight, yet you found a boy at the bar to seduce and you left me to drive to his house, across town. I made it home safe and I really want to send you a text telling you that, but I know that would be passive aggressive bull shit. I’m better than that. I think so, at least.
I understand that we aren’t a “thing” and I understand that we probably won’t ever be a “thing” and I think that’s what I want. But, when you drink, you become an asshole who can only think of himself and his needs. How long do I stick around for this shit? Intellectually, I know that it would probably be best for be to cut ties with this person, I know these sorts of things will continue to happen. But I simply can’t.
I think that, most of all, I hate that I’m feeling like my heart (which, intellectually, I understand isn’t capable of any sort of thought or feelings) is winning out over my mind. I don’t want to be that person. I want to be the person who is always able to make decisions that are 100% in the moment and always considering the whole picture. That isn’t me right now. Shit.
I’ve been hanging out a lot with this boy, who I used to hang out with quite a bit 7 years ago. I was in a weird place in my life, he was really flirty/friendly, I was bound to fall for him in a really unhealthy way. Well, I did and he then had a boyfriend, it didn’t end well.
We’ve been hanging out a lot (a whole, whole lot) lately and it’s so easy for me to fall back into that same place of lust I was in before. I’m just not used to being around people who are so fucking friendly and flirty. We slipped back into our old places so easily, it just felt right.
I know getting back into this isn’t good for me, but I can’t help it. Why the fuck do I keep finding myself drawn to you in this almost unbearable way?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: blowies, Faggots, gay southern life, growing up gay, hand jobs
I’ve talked about this before on here, but I’ve been a nelly faggot my entire life. Everyone around me has always known. Looking at pictures of me as a kid, hands on my hips, sassy face, limp wristed, I just can’t help but to laugh. My parents weren’t ready for the kid the raised, but somehow it happened anyway.
I should also say that I wouldn’t change that for the world. Being a nelly faggot is who I am today and has always been a big part of my life, I wouldn’t change a day.
But, in being a big ole nelly fairy faggot queen, people make a lot of assumptions about me. Some of them are true, some maybe not. But the one that interests me the most, is that people assume I’ve had a lot (whole, whole) of sex in my life and I started having sex at a very young age. This isn’t true, but I certainly wish it was! I didn’t have any sexual encounter with anyone until I was 20 (this includes making out), which I almost feel ashamed to admit, which is so odd. I feel like when I tell people that, I somehow am less of a nelly faggot in their eyes. I mean, what kind of gay kid wasn’t sucking the dick of every kid in the boy scout troop, or giving blowies in the elementary/middle school bathrooms? I often spend time wondering how being a non-sexual being until I was 20 shaped who I was in high school, or what I became now.
Growing up, having a big friend base was always difficult, because associating with me automatically turned you into “the kid who was friends with the faggot”. I don’t wish this, but I do wonder what it would have been like to have been “one of the guys”. What would it have been like to have sleep overs and touch my friends dick, or give him a hand/blow job or even just cuddle? If I hadn’t been the one visible gay kid growing up, would I have been able to have sex earlier? If I had been having sex earlier, would I be a different person today? If so, how would I be different? I wouldn’t consider myself sexually repressed at all… but I don’t ever picture myself ever ‘settling down’ with one (or a couple group) person (or people), or even being able to say ‘I love you’ to a partner(s) and maybe that would be different if I had been intimate with people earlier in life.
I spent most of my life waiting for everyone around me to come to terms with who they were, so that they could be seen associating with me… how did that impact my life? On the surface, I know it made me very lonely… how what else would be different about me today?
I’ve had this thing for 4 years now and I’ve all but abandoned it. Not actively abandoned it, but I just sort of drifted away. I think about TSF a lot (nearly every day, actually) and what it has been for me over these past years. It’s been incredibly helpful to have something to dump thoughts and emotions into, when I don’t have someone around to serve that purpose. I feel like it’s helped me work through a lot of things. I feel like I appreciate it more than I maybe appreciate many other things in my life. How was I able to abandon it so easily? What does that say about me?
I went out to dinner with my dad and mother the other night and it was, as you already know, terrible. After two glasses of wine, she stumbled into the day spa next to the Thai place we were eating and demanded botox. My dad and I had to pull her out of the day spa and the entire drive home she cried and just kept repeating “I want to get botox”. Eventually she started sobbing more and yelled that she wanted botox because she felt ugly and this very moment, I felt sadder for her than I have felt for her, over these past 10 years of understanding that she is an alcoholic. My first reaction was to hate her. To hate her for making me feel any emotion towards her, other than disgust. But, that quickly went away and I didn’t hate her, but felt so, so incredibly sad for her I just wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be okay.
Of course, the days of things possibly having a chance of becoming “okay” are long gone. My mother is so gone that I truly believe the only comfort she will ever feel again, is death. She isn’t able or willing to acknowledge her addition and she is married to a man who doesn’t know what to do, other than ignore everything. I hate that it has become this, but I can only see my mother as a burden on my father and I can’t help but to be excited for him, when I imagine a time without her. I don’t know how he feels about this, but I would have trouble imagine him being sad over her death. The quirky, fun loving, spontaneous, stoner California surfer girl he married died years ago. I have to wonder if my birth is what killed her, or if maybe it was a slow death that started with my birth. It possibly had nothing to do with me being born. Either way, I don’t really care.
And that’s the end of another up-beat TSF post. It would be easy to say I want to write here more (again), but apparently it’s hard to me. I’ll try, I promise. That’s the best I can do.
I find myself in this weird mood, where I feel more satisfied with short, seemingly meaningless interactions with strangers. Think, people that work at the Waffle House or the garden center. I find something about these interactions really comforting. I think that knowing that I won’t be trapped for any amount of time makes me more willing to begin those sorts of interactions. Does that make sense?
In working on this project that I’ve been working on a few years now, it’s been really draining to continually hear stories from these Queer & Trans kids who continually have the most fucked up things happen to them. It’s one thing to hear about it on the news, but to hear it from them, face to face, is something else. Then taking these conversations and continually re-living them as I talk to community members, funders, etc. is also incredibly draining. I mean, I’m not trying to compare what I feel to what they are feelings, it’s not even in the same universe, of course. On top of this, having to develop programming, budgets and all this other shit that I would rather not do, but someone has to. But, all of this is just so draining that when I’m not doing work with this project, I just want to take a break and think about nothing. Or, nothing of any… substance, at least. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the answer to why I enjoy these interactions more. When entering these situations, I know that I’m probably not going to be challenged, or need to have any sort of challenging dialogue. It’s usually talking about nail polish, or the weather, or something someone said we both heard. You know, things along those lines. I love things along these lines, they are such simple conversations, but it’s such a nice break.
Filed under: Nothing Terribly Important, Thinking Thinking | Tags: feelings, thinking, what is love, ~*love*~
Is it possible to love everything about a person (both their physical being and non-physical), but not be in-love with them? Where is that line? If this is possible, what would be keeping someone from finding themselves in-love?
I wish I had the ability to analyze what I feel, as much as I do with what I think. I feel pretty confident that I have spent time figuring out what I think and why and also how I made the journey to those thoughts. But I can’t do that with my feelings (but can any of us?). Inside my head is this weird soup of feelings and emotions that are only possible to see as one mass, impossible to separate back out. Looking at the big picture, wouldn’t the ability to analyze our feelings be more useful than our thoughts? What am I missing?