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
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Greatest Orgasm
The night before Election Day. There is so much anxiety in the air, it's like electricity. By one touch could send a life-threatening shock into the person coming in contact with the other. Even watching the news has sent my blood pressure into staggering heights as I watch the campaigns draw to a close and the latest results on the polls for prop 8 come in. Jeff, who is not religious, was just as nervous as I was and asked that I say a prayer for the both of us.
Maybe it's just me, because I am such a slut, but is this entire anxiety kinda like a person climaxing to their orgasm? The slightest touch could have us either have "blue balls" for another four years (aka...McCain and Bimbo Palin taking office) or have the greatest orgasm in American history (aka...Obama! and Prop 8 being denied!).
There have been such random positions that has built the tension between two parties that you could swear there was the same position in a nearby Karma Sutra. But after this song and dance, I am kinda ready to cum. Ready to feel that possible release and sleep for like 4 years and not have to worry about my jobs being shut down because we have another retard in office.
So with that, go and fucking vote. I want this tension to be over.
Maybe it's just me, because I am such a slut, but is this entire anxiety kinda like a person climaxing to their orgasm? The slightest touch could have us either have "blue balls" for another four years (aka...McCain and Bimbo Palin taking office) or have the greatest orgasm in American history (aka...Obama! and Prop 8 being denied!).
There have been such random positions that has built the tension between two parties that you could swear there was the same position in a nearby Karma Sutra. But after this song and dance, I am kinda ready to cum. Ready to feel that possible release and sleep for like 4 years and not have to worry about my jobs being shut down because we have another retard in office.
So with that, go and fucking vote. I want this tension to be over.
Mommy Complex
Mothers have an intuition about them that when their kids are in danger, they run on the defensive side and can, at times, inhibit a somewhat superhuman ability to protect their kids. One mother, when witnessing her children being crushed by their car after an accident, was able to lift the vehicle up high enough to have her children escape without any further injury. But humans aren't the only animals that show this type of love, even animals exhibit this type of behavior.
A mother bird in her nest notices that the forest around her chicks is on fire. She simply protects them by covering them to prevent injury; although they did become fried, it is plain to see the type of sacrifice is something that God had built into all of his creatures. It's a kind of way that shows of our undying love for someone that we care about.
Granted, I am not a mother, or a dad for that matter as of yet, but I do show this type of emotion, but I do have this defense complex built into me (one of the benefits of being a mama's boy). One of the things that I learned from my first boyfriend is not be afraid to stand up for what you are most passionate about, whether it be a political statement, a friend, lover, or someone or something you care about. Soon, I began to adapt this into my own life. Standing up for my friends and things I truly cared about. The moment someone makes a sneaky attempt to hurt something I care about, they know not to mess with me nor the person that is in the middle. Today, one of my once closest friends had to experience this. She had crossed the line by attacking my community, and I was not going allow it. Sure, you can attack me all you want, I can surely take it; but the moment that you begin to attack my gay community, then we have a problem.
Before I begin, let me give you a prologue about this friend. Her name is "Stacy." She and I have been friends for a long time and knew me before I realized I was gay. When we went off to our different colleges, we still stayed in contact. Now during this time, she had made a confession to me: she is bisexual. Following that little confession, our friendship grew closer because at the time, I was dating a guy and felt so relieved to see someone else close to me was seeing life through my eyes as well. She would update me on what was going on in her life. Stacy confided in me just as much as I did with her. I would tell her things about my love life I wouldn't normally tell, mainly because I trusted her. She told me that she would never come out of the closet, and if she ever decided to do so, she would do it in her time.
Suddenly, she had made a big change, her blogs changed from being about finding something into turning religious. She has always been a Christian, but the recent posts have been about falling in love with God and rejecting her dark side of her life. My Slayer instincts told me that something was going on. Then I saw a post that she had put up on her account saying that she had been given crap for protesting. This is the part when the shit hit the fan.
Curiosity always gets me in trouble. Sure, you can tell me to not to touch the fire, but I won't know the pain of a burn than to experience it for myself. I asked her what exactly she was protesting, she had told me it was for Prop 8. This totally brought up a Fire-Engine Red Flag up in my head because she had recently discovered God in her closet, dusted Him off, and put him back on (God was outside the closet too, she just was too afraid to open the closet door to see). I asked if she was protesting FOR PROP 8 or AGAINST PROP 8. She replied with a FOR. This is when the Mommy Complex kicked in.
In case you don't live in California, Prop 8 is a bill that is on the voting ballot that, if passed, could write in the California Constitution that marriage is "between a man and a woman." Complete. Bullshit. But I will continue the story.
I wrote back telling her how disappointed I was in her. How she could be for something that prohibits my right to happiness, and does not grant me the same rights as an American citizen. I also began to explain to her that being a bisexual woman in the closet is a smack in the face to the gay community. Then she began to reply by saying how my lifestyle is a sin and that finding God was her way out of it. It was at this point that my ammunition changed from Nerf Balls to Photon Lasers. I told her I am a Christian too and can't believe she was pulling the God card on me because her convictions of being a bisexual had overcome her thoughts and made her feel like she was going to hell for being who she is. This is when she called me. I let it ring four times before I finally answered it. Needless to say, my earring had come off and I was ready to fight back. She began to tell me how she is trying to protect her marriage. By this time, the photon lasers were taken back and I had switched to my semi-automatic bazooka.
Like I said earlier, you mess with me, that's fine. I can fend for myself, but the moment you pick on someone or something that I care about, that's when I play nasty. I lashed back that she can keep her fucking marriage, but it's my marriage as well as the rest of the gay community's marriage that is at stake. She was telling me how self-absorbed I am, making this whole conversation about me. Honestly, this conversation wasn't about me, it's about the entire fucking gay community. I am speaking from the voices of 3 million gay men and women across California. It is our rights that are at stake*, not the straight community.
I ended the conversation, after she was attacking me for being gay, by replying that maybe the closet could use a self-righteous bitch in there after all. Self-righteous bitches are good at gathering dust. Sure, it was mean and cruel, but I was definetly not going to be peaceful about it when my gay community is being attacked. I developed my ability to protect those that I truly care about and fight back. Because really, if I take it lying down, they will just step all over me, and I am not a person that takes conflicts lying down. Unless they end up having a happy ending if you know what I mean....
But sad to say, I had to break it off with Stacy. Sure, it hurt doing it, but I am not going to have a once-close friend try to hurt me and my community. Sometimes, one of the things involved in a mommy complex is being able to sacrifice. I was really disapointed that a very close friend of mine was trying to prohibit my right to happiness. I mean of all people, friends are one of the people that should be the ones supporting you. She even told me that she wanted me to settle down with someone and be happy. How would I be able to do that if I can't even marry the person that I love?
* If you have any questions regarding Prop 8. Please ask me. Otherwise, if you are truly my friend, set aside your religious bias and VOTE NO ON PROP 8. Because it's not about religion, it's about what is fair and what's right. Voting yes will only show your discrimination. Not all of America is Christian. We are given the rights to three things: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. How can we ever achieve this if my rights are being stifled because of your religious convictions?
A mother bird in her nest notices that the forest around her chicks is on fire. She simply protects them by covering them to prevent injury; although they did become fried, it is plain to see the type of sacrifice is something that God had built into all of his creatures. It's a kind of way that shows of our undying love for someone that we care about.
Granted, I am not a mother, or a dad for that matter as of yet, but I do show this type of emotion, but I do have this defense complex built into me (one of the benefits of being a mama's boy). One of the things that I learned from my first boyfriend is not be afraid to stand up for what you are most passionate about, whether it be a political statement, a friend, lover, or someone or something you care about. Soon, I began to adapt this into my own life. Standing up for my friends and things I truly cared about. The moment someone makes a sneaky attempt to hurt something I care about, they know not to mess with me nor the person that is in the middle. Today, one of my once closest friends had to experience this. She had crossed the line by attacking my community, and I was not going allow it. Sure, you can attack me all you want, I can surely take it; but the moment that you begin to attack my gay community, then we have a problem.
Before I begin, let me give you a prologue about this friend. Her name is "Stacy." She and I have been friends for a long time and knew me before I realized I was gay. When we went off to our different colleges, we still stayed in contact. Now during this time, she had made a confession to me: she is bisexual. Following that little confession, our friendship grew closer because at the time, I was dating a guy and felt so relieved to see someone else close to me was seeing life through my eyes as well. She would update me on what was going on in her life. Stacy confided in me just as much as I did with her. I would tell her things about my love life I wouldn't normally tell, mainly because I trusted her. She told me that she would never come out of the closet, and if she ever decided to do so, she would do it in her time.
Suddenly, she had made a big change, her blogs changed from being about finding something into turning religious. She has always been a Christian, but the recent posts have been about falling in love with God and rejecting her dark side of her life. My Slayer instincts told me that something was going on. Then I saw a post that she had put up on her account saying that she had been given crap for protesting. This is the part when the shit hit the fan.
Curiosity always gets me in trouble. Sure, you can tell me to not to touch the fire, but I won't know the pain of a burn than to experience it for myself. I asked her what exactly she was protesting, she had told me it was for Prop 8. This totally brought up a Fire-Engine Red Flag up in my head because she had recently discovered God in her closet, dusted Him off, and put him back on (God was outside the closet too, she just was too afraid to open the closet door to see). I asked if she was protesting FOR PROP 8 or AGAINST PROP 8. She replied with a FOR. This is when the Mommy Complex kicked in.
In case you don't live in California, Prop 8 is a bill that is on the voting ballot that, if passed, could write in the California Constitution that marriage is "between a man and a woman." Complete. Bullshit. But I will continue the story.
I wrote back telling her how disappointed I was in her. How she could be for something that prohibits my right to happiness, and does not grant me the same rights as an American citizen. I also began to explain to her that being a bisexual woman in the closet is a smack in the face to the gay community. Then she began to reply by saying how my lifestyle is a sin and that finding God was her way out of it. It was at this point that my ammunition changed from Nerf Balls to Photon Lasers. I told her I am a Christian too and can't believe she was pulling the God card on me because her convictions of being a bisexual had overcome her thoughts and made her feel like she was going to hell for being who she is. This is when she called me. I let it ring four times before I finally answered it. Needless to say, my earring had come off and I was ready to fight back. She began to tell me how she is trying to protect her marriage. By this time, the photon lasers were taken back and I had switched to my semi-automatic bazooka.
Like I said earlier, you mess with me, that's fine. I can fend for myself, but the moment you pick on someone or something that I care about, that's when I play nasty. I lashed back that she can keep her fucking marriage, but it's my marriage as well as the rest of the gay community's marriage that is at stake. She was telling me how self-absorbed I am, making this whole conversation about me. Honestly, this conversation wasn't about me, it's about the entire fucking gay community. I am speaking from the voices of 3 million gay men and women across California. It is our rights that are at stake*, not the straight community.
I ended the conversation, after she was attacking me for being gay, by replying that maybe the closet could use a self-righteous bitch in there after all. Self-righteous bitches are good at gathering dust. Sure, it was mean and cruel, but I was definetly not going to be peaceful about it when my gay community is being attacked. I developed my ability to protect those that I truly care about and fight back. Because really, if I take it lying down, they will just step all over me, and I am not a person that takes conflicts lying down. Unless they end up having a happy ending if you know what I mean....
But sad to say, I had to break it off with Stacy. Sure, it hurt doing it, but I am not going to have a once-close friend try to hurt me and my community. Sometimes, one of the things involved in a mommy complex is being able to sacrifice. I was really disapointed that a very close friend of mine was trying to prohibit my right to happiness. I mean of all people, friends are one of the people that should be the ones supporting you. She even told me that she wanted me to settle down with someone and be happy. How would I be able to do that if I can't even marry the person that I love?
* If you have any questions regarding Prop 8. Please ask me. Otherwise, if you are truly my friend, set aside your religious bias and VOTE NO ON PROP 8. Because it's not about religion, it's about what is fair and what's right. Voting yes will only show your discrimination. Not all of America is Christian. We are given the rights to three things: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. How can we ever achieve this if my rights are being stifled because of your religious convictions?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Finding the Killswitch
Defense mechanisms. We all have them. They are like car alarms that go off in our bodies that prevent us from being injured. If you are punched hard enough, you black out to prevent your brain from getting damaged. The same can be said when you go under a comatose state. It is like the mother inside of our bodies telling us we have had enough pain, or enough liquor in our bodies. Animals have them too. A cat coughs up a hairball because their stomach doesn't see the nutrition value in their body. Bottom line, our body initiates our defense mechanisms because they are looking out for our safety.
Emotionally, we have defense mechanisms. After enduring enough heartache, our bodies is turned off to the idea of romance or anything that could lead to our heart getting stomped on again...well, at least mine is. Yet, in spite of all the pain that I have experienced emotionally, a part of me just wants to man-up and get over it and move on with my life. Trying to expose my heart again so no one else can see how I truly am Class A Damaged Goods. For two weeks, I have been fighting the good and evil side of me to allow myself to love someone. As a person that has been hurt, the question then arises: Do emotional defense mechanisms have a killswitch?
Two weeks ago, I met this guy named...Brody... we started talking and I gave him my number to give me a call. I was driving around, making my best attempts to find a job and get out of the house, when I recieved a text message from him. After passing text messages back and forth, I come to find out that he lives 3 blocks away from me. Within a couple more text messages, I was making my way to his house.
Waiting outside of his house, I see him walking over to my car. Now, let me paint the picture for you. It is night, and the only light that is nearby is an orange street light. So I really didn't get a good image of this guy, all I saw were muscles and a warm smile...and that was enough for me to get out of the car to greet him. When I approached him, I was able to see more of his appearance and image. The inviting smell of cologne, his clean appearance, and his calm soothing voice.
We made our way into his room, where the walls were draped with vines as wall paper. Everything around the room was just so inviting. The artwork and pots that were placed around the room, the couch, the bed, everything was just so warm.
We began to talk about our interests and just about things that inspire us. I came to find out that he is an artist and creates pots. He pulls them out and began to show me his handiwork. I have never had an interest in pottery before, but looking at the amount of work that he put into making a pot as beautiful as it did just peaked my interest. Then he said something that suddenly hypnotized me into everything he had to say after that: "In Japanese Tradition, a pot is considered to be a person's most valued possession. To have a host show his pots to his guest would mean that he took a great liking to his guest." Okay, seriously, it was the most intelligent thing anyone has ever said said to me. If it was a pick-up line, it was the best I ever heard.
Then he moves closer to me, smiling warmly at me again. A sudden rise of silence hit the room as we were staring at each other. "Is it wrong to confess that I want to kiss you?" He suggested to me.
"Not at all. Unless you're straight. But what's stopping you?" I replied.
"I don't want this conversation to end."
I began to move myself closer to his lips. "Who said this conversation was going to stop?"
Then rowr! That is what started Brody and Pablo's story.
Normally, defense mechanisms are triggered when something is posing a threat to damage the victim. Like skunks, when they feel like they are going to be attacked, let out a nasty smell. Emotionally, when my heart feels like it might be hurt by another person, my guard comes up. I have been hurt too many times to let another person mess with me.
For two weeks, we spent a great deal of time together. I began to really enjoy our time together. He even spent some time with some of my friends who thought he was a pretty cool guy. I thought so too. Spending time with him was proving to me that my defense mechanisms might have been broken down. I felt like the botulism, that I had mention a couple blogs ago, had finally gone away. Then came the relapse.
After my first breakup, the hopeless romantic side of me fell away. I stopped believing in setting the mood and making some events special. Those moments are reserved for shows like and The O.C. and 90210 to boost ratings. With Brody, he would make some moments special. I wouldn't really expect it, and when it came along. My defense mechanism started to set in. I didn't want it to happen, because I really wanted to care for this guy. But then my body would remind me, while dreaming in REM cycles, just how much hurt I have gone through and what a mistake it would be if I were to commit myself to him.
Since I was unemployed up until last Friday, I gave myself alot of time to think about Brody. I really liked how he would make me feel so important, I would really enjoy alot of things that are about him; however, on the other hand, I was afraid that I was tabling my problems that I had still yet to resolve. I was like a patient that was still sick and figured he could leave the hospital that he was confined to and just rely on the pills to make himself better. The pills aren't working and it's time to re-admit myself back into the hospital to endure more tests and recovery.
I really wish I could just make a quick recovery and be in a relationship with someone that I care about. But, I guess, in this natural form of discoveries, I realized that I just am not ready to commit myself to someone yet until I am secure within myself. I don't want to be someone's hot ghetto mess to deal with. They really don't deserve that.
In this world and the natural process of things, there is no way to make a quick recovery from a broken heart and there is no way to find a killswitch to your body's defense mechanism. Your body knows what's best for you and sometimes you have to trust it's instincts. To make myself better, I had to sacrifice something that was important to me: a guy that believed in me, just so I could make myself better. I don't know what's in the future, but I really hope that I could make a better recovery so I can help myself to move forward in things that can finally make myself happy.
Emotionally, we have defense mechanisms. After enduring enough heartache, our bodies is turned off to the idea of romance or anything that could lead to our heart getting stomped on again...well, at least mine is. Yet, in spite of all the pain that I have experienced emotionally, a part of me just wants to man-up and get over it and move on with my life. Trying to expose my heart again so no one else can see how I truly am Class A Damaged Goods. For two weeks, I have been fighting the good and evil side of me to allow myself to love someone. As a person that has been hurt, the question then arises: Do emotional defense mechanisms have a killswitch?
Two weeks ago, I met this guy named...Brody... we started talking and I gave him my number to give me a call. I was driving around, making my best attempts to find a job and get out of the house, when I recieved a text message from him. After passing text messages back and forth, I come to find out that he lives 3 blocks away from me. Within a couple more text messages, I was making my way to his house.
Waiting outside of his house, I see him walking over to my car. Now, let me paint the picture for you. It is night, and the only light that is nearby is an orange street light. So I really didn't get a good image of this guy, all I saw were muscles and a warm smile...and that was enough for me to get out of the car to greet him. When I approached him, I was able to see more of his appearance and image. The inviting smell of cologne, his clean appearance, and his calm soothing voice.
We made our way into his room, where the walls were draped with vines as wall paper. Everything around the room was just so inviting. The artwork and pots that were placed around the room, the couch, the bed, everything was just so warm.
We began to talk about our interests and just about things that inspire us. I came to find out that he is an artist and creates pots. He pulls them out and began to show me his handiwork. I have never had an interest in pottery before, but looking at the amount of work that he put into making a pot as beautiful as it did just peaked my interest. Then he said something that suddenly hypnotized me into everything he had to say after that: "In Japanese Tradition, a pot is considered to be a person's most valued possession. To have a host show his pots to his guest would mean that he took a great liking to his guest." Okay, seriously, it was the most intelligent thing anyone has ever said said to me. If it was a pick-up line, it was the best I ever heard.
Then he moves closer to me, smiling warmly at me again. A sudden rise of silence hit the room as we were staring at each other. "Is it wrong to confess that I want to kiss you?" He suggested to me.
"Not at all. Unless you're straight. But what's stopping you?" I replied.
"I don't want this conversation to end."
I began to move myself closer to his lips. "Who said this conversation was going to stop?"
Then rowr! That is what started Brody and Pablo's story.
Normally, defense mechanisms are triggered when something is posing a threat to damage the victim. Like skunks, when they feel like they are going to be attacked, let out a nasty smell. Emotionally, when my heart feels like it might be hurt by another person, my guard comes up. I have been hurt too many times to let another person mess with me.
For two weeks, we spent a great deal of time together. I began to really enjoy our time together. He even spent some time with some of my friends who thought he was a pretty cool guy. I thought so too. Spending time with him was proving to me that my defense mechanisms might have been broken down. I felt like the botulism, that I had mention a couple blogs ago, had finally gone away. Then came the relapse.
After my first breakup, the hopeless romantic side of me fell away. I stopped believing in setting the mood and making some events special. Those moments are reserved for shows like and The O.C. and 90210 to boost ratings. With Brody, he would make some moments special. I wouldn't really expect it, and when it came along. My defense mechanism started to set in. I didn't want it to happen, because I really wanted to care for this guy. But then my body would remind me, while dreaming in REM cycles, just how much hurt I have gone through and what a mistake it would be if I were to commit myself to him.
Since I was unemployed up until last Friday, I gave myself alot of time to think about Brody. I really liked how he would make me feel so important, I would really enjoy alot of things that are about him; however, on the other hand, I was afraid that I was tabling my problems that I had still yet to resolve. I was like a patient that was still sick and figured he could leave the hospital that he was confined to and just rely on the pills to make himself better. The pills aren't working and it's time to re-admit myself back into the hospital to endure more tests and recovery.
I really wish I could just make a quick recovery and be in a relationship with someone that I care about. But, I guess, in this natural form of discoveries, I realized that I just am not ready to commit myself to someone yet until I am secure within myself. I don't want to be someone's hot ghetto mess to deal with. They really don't deserve that.
In this world and the natural process of things, there is no way to make a quick recovery from a broken heart and there is no way to find a killswitch to your body's defense mechanism. Your body knows what's best for you and sometimes you have to trust it's instincts. To make myself better, I had to sacrifice something that was important to me: a guy that believed in me, just so I could make myself better. I don't know what's in the future, but I really hope that I could make a better recovery so I can help myself to move forward in things that can finally make myself happy.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Step Two: The Boy
The island of Alcatraz. A prison that had the best security system in the world. Who knew that if you built something on an island surrounded by freezing cold water and sharks, there would be little to no survivors that tried to escape. They would either be eaten, poached by the guards out on the sea, or freeze their ass off trying to get away. No one was able to escape Alcatraz. They were all recaptured. But like this prison in the middle of the Gay Mecca of the World, my heart is set up in this manner also.
After my dark rage day on Friday, it really got me thinking about my life. I was mad because I was not happy where I was, and the fact that people keep doing shit behind my back and getting away with it, only to confess to me after the storm had calmed down. I know it's the courteous thing to do. Not telling your boyfriend that you found someone else was a hard thing for me to tackle too, but you get over what's courteous and do what's right. Either way, they are going to get hurt, so might want to euthanize before it will get any worse between you two. And DO NOT do it on the phone either, that's fucking lame and totally chicken. If there is one thing I will never forgive Jeff for is that he broke up with me over the phone when he was thinking about breaking up for two weeks. So after that dark rage, I decided to not allow anyone in. Close up the candy shop until the renovation is over. But right in the middle of my remodeling period, there is a guy knocking on the door to my heart that wants to get in. I want to open it up and see if it is someone that I can trust, or if it is another Jehovah's Witness hounding me.
His name is Jose, a guy that I met on Monday. I am not saying he's a bad guy, he is extremely caring. He has been single for two and a half years after his last one ended horribly. He is extremely passionate when it comes to the person that he's interested in (and a REALLY good kisser too!).
After meeting him at the mall on Monday and hanging out all night until 5am the next morning with him, he is already "sprung" over me. He was telling me that he "has not felt like this about anyone in so long..." and that "I am so hot that I can have any guy...." I like accepting compliments, it helps to keep me humble. The one thing that I don't like about any of this is how fast this guy is working. Within an hour, he had figured I was already at the point in the date that he could hug me from behind. I barely knew this guy and he was already trying to knock. My guard has never been up so high in my life.
I do not want to get hurt again. The last time I opened myself up to someone, they ended up disappearing on me and found them at Rich's a couple of days later (see blog: Evolutions (part 4): Botulism). Then after hanging out with him after turned out to be hard because I started finding out other things...bottom line: not fun. Now, I have a guy that really is head over heels with me and I have no interest in dating anyone right now.
It is just weird how eerie my life is changing. Evolution has taken hold in my life to the point where, as mentioned in my earlier blogs, I am starting to see facets of myself everywhere. Jose is becoming me when Jeff and I were dating (except I was more shy but still cute). Jeff is becoming me when he told me that Joel and him got back together. He is hopeful of starting over but a little hesitating to starting over after the pain that was done. My lesbian friend is afraid of going out and meeting by herself because she is so used to being in company with other people.
But this boy, Jose, just has gotten me so confused. A part of me wants to open up the doors to Alcatraz and let the crazies go free and see where it goes; at the same time, I have the other side of me that is so jaded by the fact of dating that I enjoy the adventures I encounter single. The other part of the equation that I just don't understand is that I am leaving to LA to start my writing career. Why would I fall in love with someone down here when I am going to be leaving in a couple of months? I am afraid that if I commit to opening my heart to him and we end up going out, that I might sacrifice my career for someone. If it doesn't work out and we break up, I will be blaming him for alot of things. A part of my identity that I do know for a fact is that the moment that I commit to something/someone and it burns down, I blame them for making me sacrifice my choices just so I could be happy with someone.
If there are things that I could change about him it would consists of some simple modifications. I really want him to stop being so pushy in seeing me again. He has been calling me every single night regarding when we are hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with him and all, it's just that I want my space right now. I don't want to move too fast and that is exactly what he's doing.
I want to change his taste in music. He likes Celine Dion. Granted her Grammy Nominated Album Falling into You was really good, everything else about her music just turns me off (except some of her older songs like The Power of Love were amazing too). Then his taste in movies and television shows. This guy is just screaming for a makeover in that area. Another thing are his tattoos. I really don't like tatoos on a guy. They are tacky and stay on you for the rest of your life. Not only that, but every trendy kid out there is getting one...get over it. Grab a sharpee and go to town.
The entanglements of love can be so complicated sometimes. I want so much for my life, but I would rather have a great-paying career than be in love right now. I need to move to LA. I am getting tired of living in the country. A couple hours ago, some kids in a car threw eggs at me and screamed "fuck you faggot!" while I was on the phone with Jose. Never before have I been hated like that before, it was really scary. I just hope that the decision I make will help me and that I won't get hurt. because I really can't afford to get hurt again for a while.
After my dark rage day on Friday, it really got me thinking about my life. I was mad because I was not happy where I was, and the fact that people keep doing shit behind my back and getting away with it, only to confess to me after the storm had calmed down. I know it's the courteous thing to do. Not telling your boyfriend that you found someone else was a hard thing for me to tackle too, but you get over what's courteous and do what's right. Either way, they are going to get hurt, so might want to euthanize before it will get any worse between you two. And DO NOT do it on the phone either, that's fucking lame and totally chicken. If there is one thing I will never forgive Jeff for is that he broke up with me over the phone when he was thinking about breaking up for two weeks. So after that dark rage, I decided to not allow anyone in. Close up the candy shop until the renovation is over. But right in the middle of my remodeling period, there is a guy knocking on the door to my heart that wants to get in. I want to open it up and see if it is someone that I can trust, or if it is another Jehovah's Witness hounding me.
His name is Jose, a guy that I met on Monday. I am not saying he's a bad guy, he is extremely caring. He has been single for two and a half years after his last one ended horribly. He is extremely passionate when it comes to the person that he's interested in (and a REALLY good kisser too!).
After meeting him at the mall on Monday and hanging out all night until 5am the next morning with him, he is already "sprung" over me. He was telling me that he "has not felt like this about anyone in so long..." and that "I am so hot that I can have any guy...." I like accepting compliments, it helps to keep me humble. The one thing that I don't like about any of this is how fast this guy is working. Within an hour, he had figured I was already at the point in the date that he could hug me from behind. I barely knew this guy and he was already trying to knock. My guard has never been up so high in my life.
I do not want to get hurt again. The last time I opened myself up to someone, they ended up disappearing on me and found them at Rich's a couple of days later (see blog: Evolutions (part 4): Botulism). Then after hanging out with him after turned out to be hard because I started finding out other things...bottom line: not fun. Now, I have a guy that really is head over heels with me and I have no interest in dating anyone right now.
It is just weird how eerie my life is changing. Evolution has taken hold in my life to the point where, as mentioned in my earlier blogs, I am starting to see facets of myself everywhere. Jose is becoming me when Jeff and I were dating (except I was more shy but still cute). Jeff is becoming me when he told me that Joel and him got back together. He is hopeful of starting over but a little hesitating to starting over after the pain that was done. My lesbian friend is afraid of going out and meeting by herself because she is so used to being in company with other people.
But this boy, Jose, just has gotten me so confused. A part of me wants to open up the doors to Alcatraz and let the crazies go free and see where it goes; at the same time, I have the other side of me that is so jaded by the fact of dating that I enjoy the adventures I encounter single. The other part of the equation that I just don't understand is that I am leaving to LA to start my writing career. Why would I fall in love with someone down here when I am going to be leaving in a couple of months? I am afraid that if I commit to opening my heart to him and we end up going out, that I might sacrifice my career for someone. If it doesn't work out and we break up, I will be blaming him for alot of things. A part of my identity that I do know for a fact is that the moment that I commit to something/someone and it burns down, I blame them for making me sacrifice my choices just so I could be happy with someone.
If there are things that I could change about him it would consists of some simple modifications. I really want him to stop being so pushy in seeing me again. He has been calling me every single night regarding when we are hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with him and all, it's just that I want my space right now. I don't want to move too fast and that is exactly what he's doing.
I want to change his taste in music. He likes Celine Dion. Granted her Grammy Nominated Album Falling into You was really good, everything else about her music just turns me off (except some of her older songs like The Power of Love were amazing too). Then his taste in movies and television shows. This guy is just screaming for a makeover in that area. Another thing are his tattoos. I really don't like tatoos on a guy. They are tacky and stay on you for the rest of your life. Not only that, but every trendy kid out there is getting one...get over it. Grab a sharpee and go to town.
The entanglements of love can be so complicated sometimes. I want so much for my life, but I would rather have a great-paying career than be in love right now. I need to move to LA. I am getting tired of living in the country. A couple hours ago, some kids in a car threw eggs at me and screamed "fuck you faggot!" while I was on the phone with Jose. Never before have I been hated like that before, it was really scary. I just hope that the decision I make will help me and that I won't get hurt. because I really can't afford to get hurt again for a while.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Step One: The Job
Out of the darkness...into the light...it takes one step to cross over. Now don't think that I am planning on being overly religions and going straight because that is not what is in this gay agenda; I am moving from somewhere so dark and full of pain and transitioning into being a man and dealing with my problems head on (not to mention, shedding a tear of frustration or two.)....it takes one step.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hot Mess
In my favorite TV series of all time, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy's best friend Willow turns evil. This is the result of Buffy's enemy and former classmate, Warren, arriving at Buffy's house with a gun and opening fire, shooting Willow's girlfriend with a stray bullet. When Willow's girlfriend dies, she changes from being good into a very powerful witch that comes very close to destroying the world.
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
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