Gooooooood morning solar system, I'm writing this at 5am.
So, I dunno who has been paying attention to the news or what news people have been paying attention to or what-have-you, but I have been told some disturbing news. In the past three weeks there have been NINE reported suicides by gay teens. For those who aren't too good at math, that's three a week. That works out to a little less than one every two days.
I'm not going to go on a big rant, calling the homophobic people who harass and bully and threaten these people to the point where they feel like there is nothing left for them in this world all sorts of names. I would like to. I could certainly think of a couple things to say to them. But that won't really accomplish much, so I'll save that for another time when I'm way too angry to care whether it's productive or not.
Right now, what I am is sad. And what makes me even more sad is that I don't even find it that surprising. Things are SUPPOSED to be getting better in this world, but the fact of the matter is that no prejudice is ever eliminated completely. And that is tragic. When something like this happens, especially in such mind-breaking numbers, there isn't much room to get angry I don't think. Not for me anyway. There is just this supreme feeling of... I can't even think of a word for it. When you feel like, okay. Things aren't perfect. Things aren't even great. But they are getting better, slowly. The kind of people who look at a homosexual person and thing that, because of who they are, who they were born as and may only be beginning to know themselves as, that they are inferior, that they are disgusting, that they are not people at all and that their death is no big loss, are being pushed away. Are being silenced. Are being limited and looked down up.
I shouldn't have to worry about someone seeing me wearing certain colours when I go into town. I shouldn't have to worry about telling a coworker THE TRUTH about what I did on my five days off, or worry about someday in the future not sending my own father an invitation to my wedding, or inviting him over to see his grandchildren. I should not be concerned, I should not be afraid, and I should NOT be ridiculed. I am NOT the one with the problem and I am NOT the one who has something shameful to hide.
I don't know who will read this. I don't know who will read what I say and I don't know what they will take from it but I want to offer, here and now to every single potential reader - that this world is full of lots of messed up, ugly things. It's true. I've seen it, and I don't like it. But in amongst all the messed up, ugly things are some beautiful people. If you are gay, or bisexual, or transgendered, or two spirited, or asexual, or pansexual, or if you are genderqueer, or if you are a transvestite or if you have know idea what you are and why you can't get all these weird thoughts in your head to stop flying around and confusing you and keeping you up at night, there IS someone who cares. Always. Your parents might treat you like shit, and that one friend you've held onto for years even though they ignore you and you don't really have much in common is slowly drifting away from you. You may not even have that one friend. You might feel like no one sees you, no one notices the pain and the fear and the crushing hopelessness that weighs you down day after day. But there are people out there who will notice. Who will reach back if you reach out to them. There are people who are desperately waiting to meet someone just like you.
If you read this and you ever, EVER feel like there is nothing for you in this world I will be more than happy to listen to anything you have to say. I am not a therapist, I cannot provide you with the kind of support and advice that you NEED to seek if you are suicidal. There is nothing wrong with getting help. There is nothing wrong with living to see another day. You are NOT worthless, you are NOT disgusting and you DO have a place in this world.
Things will never be perfect. But they will be better. Truly, they will. People are becoming better educated. People are becoming more compassionate. I'm so tired and I am so emotional and I don't know if I'm sounding like a complete idiot, but I really want this to stop. I really want people to start giving themselves a chance. I have spent years and years of my life feeling inferior, feeling alone and invisible burdensome. I find it so hard to have hope sometimes but I haven't given up yet. I don't plan to. And if there is even the tiniest chance that I can do SOMETHING, anything at all to influence someone, to make them understand that not giving up is really and truly the better choice, then I want to make sure I grab it.
You can talk to me. If you don't know me at all, if you stumbled on this completely by accident, if I have no clue whatsoever who you are, if we have never spoken before, whatever. It doesn't matter. I will not turn you away. I will not pass you over. I won't reject you. I may not have the perfect words for every injured heart but I can certainly listen.
Of course, it doesn't have to be me you talk to. If you want to go straight to a professional, or if you want to go to a teacher or a sibling or call a help line, there are many options. But I am urging you, begging you to please talk to SOMEONE. And if one person doesn't give you an encouraging to helpful answer then move on to someone else. Keep on going until you find that person who REALLY understands. It will be worth it. You are worth it.
That is all.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
October 1st - Pumpkin Pie
Good evening, solar system. As soon as I'm done writing this sentence I'm going to get up and pee but because of the magic of the internet, when you read this it'll be like I NEVER LEFT AT ALL.
So today when I was getting dressed after work (well, getting undressed first as I do not work in the nude) I was thinking about the grammatical prospects of "seen" and "saw." I don't know why I was thinking about this, since I already know when to use each one personally and it's not like I'm ever going to be required to teach a lesson on it or anything. But for whatever reason, think of it I did.
I was originally going to write some big angry ranty thing, because I was a little bit ticked off at the world this morning but right now I just don't have the energy for a big angry rant. I just want to go to bed and not get up for five days, but if course I work tomorrow. I do have Sunday off, but then I work until Saturday and have the weekend off. Yay, my first two consecutive days off in three weeks! I was very much considering asking someone to take my shift tomorrow because I'm just so tiiiired and one day off never feels like enough to properly relax.
I have been trying to draw a bit the past couple days. I have been really hooked on the video game design college thing, and a lot of the classes focus on some form of drawing or another and I think I would be much more successful if I could actually draw a thing or two. I'm not quite sure yet, however, how I am going to deal with the problem of not being able to do diddly squat on a computer. Really the only thing I can contribute to the process of creating video games (or anything else) are the ideas. I'm not so good at formulating the idea itself into something physical. In fact I'm not good at it at all.
Anyhoo. I forget where the thought originated... it was something relating to me being afraid of something. But it got me thinking about how that's pretty much my whole life in two words - "being afraid." I could go on for about a billion paragraphs listing all of the things I'm afraid of and I'd probably still miss something. I just do not feel comfortable in my own skin. I do not feel secure in a world inhabited by so many people when I'm always hearing about all the things people do to each other for such ridiculous reasons.
I know that always being afraid of everything is a very poor way to go about one's life, I will be the first to admit that I do not truly have fun often. I never go out with friends, and pretty much the only place I have gone is to a bar and I don't drink and I have one friend in town and that's the only person I know so I always feel so weird and out of place. I don't hate it, but I mostly just end up standing there all night observing other people. I don't have the courage to go dance in the middle of a crowd of strangers, I don't have the self confidence to not give a crap what anyone thinks about my dancing or my appearance or my sobriety or whatever.
A while ago a friend asked me why I don't drink and I gave this really long, utter b.s. answer about how people rely on alcohol so much and how it's been driven into our minds that no matter what you're feeling alcohol is appropriate for the occasion (depression, celebration, relaxation, exhaustion, etc.) and it kind of drives me crazy how some people are so disbelieving that someone could POSSIBLY live a successful life without ever getting falling-down-pissing-yourself-and-barfing-everywhere drunk, and how I wanted to prove to myself that these people were wrong. But I'll tell you a secret, my life does not feel very successful to me. But that's because I am emo.
My eyes are closing repeatedly without my consent and they keep staying closed for longer and longer periods of time, so I'mma wrap this off. Probably will write tomorrow and elaborate on one or two things some more... if I remember.
So today when I was getting dressed after work (well, getting undressed first as I do not work in the nude) I was thinking about the grammatical prospects of "seen" and "saw." I don't know why I was thinking about this, since I already know when to use each one personally and it's not like I'm ever going to be required to teach a lesson on it or anything. But for whatever reason, think of it I did.
I was originally going to write some big angry ranty thing, because I was a little bit ticked off at the world this morning but right now I just don't have the energy for a big angry rant. I just want to go to bed and not get up for five days, but if course I work tomorrow. I do have Sunday off, but then I work until Saturday and have the weekend off. Yay, my first two consecutive days off in three weeks! I was very much considering asking someone to take my shift tomorrow because I'm just so tiiiired and one day off never feels like enough to properly relax.
I have been trying to draw a bit the past couple days. I have been really hooked on the video game design college thing, and a lot of the classes focus on some form of drawing or another and I think I would be much more successful if I could actually draw a thing or two. I'm not quite sure yet, however, how I am going to deal with the problem of not being able to do diddly squat on a computer. Really the only thing I can contribute to the process of creating video games (or anything else) are the ideas. I'm not so good at formulating the idea itself into something physical. In fact I'm not good at it at all.
Anyhoo. I forget where the thought originated... it was something relating to me being afraid of something. But it got me thinking about how that's pretty much my whole life in two words - "being afraid." I could go on for about a billion paragraphs listing all of the things I'm afraid of and I'd probably still miss something. I just do not feel comfortable in my own skin. I do not feel secure in a world inhabited by so many people when I'm always hearing about all the things people do to each other for such ridiculous reasons.
I know that always being afraid of everything is a very poor way to go about one's life, I will be the first to admit that I do not truly have fun often. I never go out with friends, and pretty much the only place I have gone is to a bar and I don't drink and I have one friend in town and that's the only person I know so I always feel so weird and out of place. I don't hate it, but I mostly just end up standing there all night observing other people. I don't have the courage to go dance in the middle of a crowd of strangers, I don't have the self confidence to not give a crap what anyone thinks about my dancing or my appearance or my sobriety or whatever.
A while ago a friend asked me why I don't drink and I gave this really long, utter b.s. answer about how people rely on alcohol so much and how it's been driven into our minds that no matter what you're feeling alcohol is appropriate for the occasion (depression, celebration, relaxation, exhaustion, etc.) and it kind of drives me crazy how some people are so disbelieving that someone could POSSIBLY live a successful life without ever getting falling-down-pissing-yourself-and-barfing-everywhere drunk, and how I wanted to prove to myself that these people were wrong. But I'll tell you a secret, my life does not feel very successful to me. But that's because I am emo.
My eyes are closing repeatedly without my consent and they keep staying closed for longer and longer periods of time, so I'mma wrap this off. Probably will write tomorrow and elaborate on one or two things some more... if I remember.
September 30 - Magnet Train
Good morning solar system.
So, a couple things. First of all, I've been thinking recently about a site I used to be a member of (a friend told me that it was likely OutSMACK). I was never really active there, it was kind of a social networking site exclusively for lgbtq people. And one thing I found a bit odd when I was there, was that (as far as I can remember) every person who added me, who wasn't someone I already knew, was transgendered. Dunno why it worked out that way, but it did.
One of my best friends is an FTM and I have another online friend who is also an FTM (though it's just occurred to me, is that term really accurate because they technically WEREN'T female before, were they?) and I've always kind of found it interesting how I just seem to randomly attract transgendered people to me. I am a tranny magnet. But I don't mind, in fact I quite like it. I love trans people, and I have ever since I came to understand what it meant to be transgendered (on a deeper level then going from an inny to an outy or vise versa).
I have struggled with my own gender identity on numerous occasions but I think I'm too scared to settle on any sort of definitive definition. I would love it if I could just magic away all my body hair and grow some boobs and put on a dress and be beautiful but that's not how it works. I'd have to tell my family at some point, I'd have to tell my friends, likely at least some of my coworkers. I'd have to add a shiny new clump of items to my list of things I have to worry about every time I step out of the door and leave the house. I don't think I am brave to face all that, even if keeping it inside is a huge obstacle preventing me from ever having a moderately successful social life.
Another thing I was thinking about today was Susan Boyle. If you don't know who that is, the internet will be more than happy to let you know. The thing is that, people tend to see her as either this ugly beast or this super-talented singer who sparked a revolution in the way people think in regards to the relationship between talent and appearance. My personal viewpoint however, pessimistic as it may be, is that Susan Boyle is neither of these things. I think she is a gorgeous human being, and I think she has a fantastic voice. But here's the thing.
Shallow people aren't going to stop being shallow because of one instance. A cynical person may be willing to admit that they were wrong, but a truly shallow person will never make the effort to see past their petty ideals of what makes someone beautiful, and they will never sincerely view her as a person and they will never truly understand her as a human being. They will never hear her voice, they will forever remain in their own deluded world.
I do not think that the success of Susan Boyle is going to stem the flow of twisted contempt that those blind and shallow people hold within them, but what I DO think she has accomplished is giving hope to those who already believed in the ideal. Some people might not have believed that Susan Boyle specifically had an amazing voice and would completely stun the crowd, but I bet the vast majority, bordering on the absolute entirety, of the people to whom she delivered a "wake up call" were already convinced that someone without the perfect hollywood smile and a size 3-and-down wardrobe could sing well. A wakeup call isn't a revelation so much as it is a reminder.
Don't get me wrong though, I am not in any way saying that the fact that she didn't change peoples minds, merely refreshed them, is a bad thing. Because when it comes down to it - the compassionate ones are the ones who NEED to have their minds refreshed, because otherwise there would be even fewer of us than there currently are and we're certainly not experiencing an abundance of them right now. But more than being refreshed, the compassionate ones are the ones who need so desperately to have something to find hope in. At the end of the day when you turn out your bedroom light and think about all the horrible things that happen in this world, the one thing that will be able to make us want to wake up is believing that some brave soul someday, will step into the storm and blast all the fear and hatred right off the map. And the only way we can ever hope to have that chance is if we keep waking up and keep stepping out. Maybe one of us will be brave enough. We can only hope.
That is all.
So, a couple things. First of all, I've been thinking recently about a site I used to be a member of (a friend told me that it was likely OutSMACK). I was never really active there, it was kind of a social networking site exclusively for lgbtq people. And one thing I found a bit odd when I was there, was that (as far as I can remember) every person who added me, who wasn't someone I already knew, was transgendered. Dunno why it worked out that way, but it did.
One of my best friends is an FTM and I have another online friend who is also an FTM (though it's just occurred to me, is that term really accurate because they technically WEREN'T female before, were they?) and I've always kind of found it interesting how I just seem to randomly attract transgendered people to me. I am a tranny magnet. But I don't mind, in fact I quite like it. I love trans people, and I have ever since I came to understand what it meant to be transgendered (on a deeper level then going from an inny to an outy or vise versa).
I have struggled with my own gender identity on numerous occasions but I think I'm too scared to settle on any sort of definitive definition. I would love it if I could just magic away all my body hair and grow some boobs and put on a dress and be beautiful but that's not how it works. I'd have to tell my family at some point, I'd have to tell my friends, likely at least some of my coworkers. I'd have to add a shiny new clump of items to my list of things I have to worry about every time I step out of the door and leave the house. I don't think I am brave to face all that, even if keeping it inside is a huge obstacle preventing me from ever having a moderately successful social life.
Another thing I was thinking about today was Susan Boyle. If you don't know who that is, the internet will be more than happy to let you know. The thing is that, people tend to see her as either this ugly beast or this super-talented singer who sparked a revolution in the way people think in regards to the relationship between talent and appearance. My personal viewpoint however, pessimistic as it may be, is that Susan Boyle is neither of these things. I think she is a gorgeous human being, and I think she has a fantastic voice. But here's the thing.
Shallow people aren't going to stop being shallow because of one instance. A cynical person may be willing to admit that they were wrong, but a truly shallow person will never make the effort to see past their petty ideals of what makes someone beautiful, and they will never sincerely view her as a person and they will never truly understand her as a human being. They will never hear her voice, they will forever remain in their own deluded world.
I do not think that the success of Susan Boyle is going to stem the flow of twisted contempt that those blind and shallow people hold within them, but what I DO think she has accomplished is giving hope to those who already believed in the ideal. Some people might not have believed that Susan Boyle specifically had an amazing voice and would completely stun the crowd, but I bet the vast majority, bordering on the absolute entirety, of the people to whom she delivered a "wake up call" were already convinced that someone without the perfect hollywood smile and a size 3-and-down wardrobe could sing well. A wakeup call isn't a revelation so much as it is a reminder.
Don't get me wrong though, I am not in any way saying that the fact that she didn't change peoples minds, merely refreshed them, is a bad thing. Because when it comes down to it - the compassionate ones are the ones who NEED to have their minds refreshed, because otherwise there would be even fewer of us than there currently are and we're certainly not experiencing an abundance of them right now. But more than being refreshed, the compassionate ones are the ones who need so desperately to have something to find hope in. At the end of the day when you turn out your bedroom light and think about all the horrible things that happen in this world, the one thing that will be able to make us want to wake up is believing that some brave soul someday, will step into the storm and blast all the fear and hatred right off the map. And the only way we can ever hope to have that chance is if we keep waking up and keep stepping out. Maybe one of us will be brave enough. We can only hope.
That is all.
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