I'm Not Sorry

A couple weeks ago, in the blog Hot Mess, I experienced dark rage. A rage I thought I had never possessed but gave me so much power. Pain is a strong emotion and can be turned into dark rage quickly. Maybe that's why The Grudge is a movie I can best relate to. When I am hurt and left dead on the floor, I want others to feel my pain.

I also mentioned in a blog, Mommy Complex, that when my friends are hurt, all I want to do is hurt the person that is causing them pain. The moment that Stacy started attacking my community, I took off my earrings and took that bitch out.

Now imagine me in both emotions at the same time. Did I just create a rift in the galaxy? Whoops, my bad.

I am sitting at Petco park with my best friend Jeff, awaiting Madonna to show herself to millions and start the damn show. The show was supposed to start at 730 but it didn't start until 900, but I am pretty sure Madonna did it because she, along with the rest of America, was on pins and needles to see if Obama was going to win. Once he was given the thumbs up, then Madonna started getting her shit together. In the meantime, Jeff and I were hugging each other and laughing at the news that the era of conservative tyranny is on the verge of ending. Then our curiosity went a little further to check up on Prop 8 if it was passed or not.

I tried checking on my phone but got no results, we asked the gay couple that was sitting behind us but they told us no luck yet. Within five minutes, I was starting to get text messages from my friends telling me how sorry they are for me, obviously a bad sign. Robert told me that Prop 8 is passing, but the dumb fuck didn't tell me that it was only 10% of the votes were in, so there was a possibility of a turn out for the better after the remaining 90% arrived (what surprised me with him was that he was even watching the news). By this time, Madonna had started the show and Jeff and I were dancing in our seats to "Candy Shop."

A couple of songs later, my friends sent me the 75% count of Prop 8. 55% yes to 45% no. I gasped at the news and had to tell Jeff, when I did, we both were depressed. I looked behind me to see the gay couple were in each others arms crying. Then the whole fact was what was awaiting at my home is what made me break down crying.

I broke down crying because my dreams of being happy were shattered. I was so hurt that the Christians were going to put their personal beliefs in the face of America to stifle the rights of the rest of America because of their religious beliefs. For a moment, I wished I wasn't a Christian. And what was worst was that I still lived with them and I was feeling more trapped than I ever was before.

Jeff was holding me while I was crying histerically, in fear and sadness. Then I told Jeff "I wanted you to be happy and get married. I was fighting for you."
Jeff said in my ear while Madonna was singing "Heartbeat": "Joel and I weren't going to get married. But I feel like I have been psychologically raped of my civil rights. I feel like shit.

As did the rest of the gay community across California.

For me, I can cry and be depressed; however, when I see another is down, a force stregnthens me to be strong and comfort them in return. Jeff was feeling really down, so I put my arms around him and was holding him in return for his deed with me. As I was doing so, the good side of me disappeared again and I began to bring out my dark rage.

The next day, I was still down and pissed off that I still lived with my family that hates me. I decided to get out of the house and go to the gym. As I was doing so, I saw a guy with a Yes on 8 sticker on the back of his car. I drove up next to him and was screaming "FUCK YOU!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs while he was staring at me dumbfounded at what he may have possibly done to me. My dark rage had been brought forth and there was no smile that was going to come out unless it was forced.

I wanted to make every Christian that voted yes on Prop 8 to pay. They hurt my friend, my community, and they deserve this. I am not sorry for what I said. People would write me saying: "ouch that really hurt" and I would reply with: "I'm not sorry. You deserve it. You stifle my rights, I stifle yours. You shouldn't have pissed me off."

I am enraged that this was happening. How one community wants to hurt another all because of whom we love. What's funny is how I am in the middle of it all. I used to be really involved with the Christian community, I used to be up there. But once I realized I was gay, I began to make the move to the other side. Once I did, I was hated on by my former community. Maybe it was their efforts to get me back to them, but hate only drives a person away.

So I am still not sorry for the things I have said. I have my right to voice what I believe in. And trying to shut me up isn't going to help