Recently I've been feeling, how do I put this... well to be blunt, unmotivated and lazy. However I've been forcing myself to get up, do yoga, and eat at least one meal a day (which is usually dinner.) Here is a little recap of what my weekend/ first part of the week has been like:
Went to OUTFEST, and to be honest, I was a little disappointed. Some booths were cool others were lame, there weren't very many people there and I was really actually disappointed. In my head, Cara Park was supposed to be filled with lots of gay people, booths of artists and what not. It wasn't. So Molly, Nina, Cora and I all ended up spending the day together around downtown Missoula, going into almost every shop down there and talking to a cute guy, seeing a hot cowboy, meeting a sweet girl, and seeing what Lady Gaga will look like when she is about 80. It was a good day; could have gone better by me not loosing my wallet and then locking Molly's keys in the car, but hey at least I got the keys out of the ignition and the car by using wire hangers through a small crack of the sun roof.
When I was doing a friends senior pictures, a certain guy texted me and told me he was going through Polson.... That was it. So then later one night he texted me: 'Passing through Polson again.' Which I replied: 'So are you coming to see me or something?' He replied: 'No.' I replied: 'Then why do you think I care?' It all ended in him calling me a douche bag and telling me I've been acting like an ass. Well I'm so sorry but I don't care if you are passing through Polson unless you are coming to see me! That's with anyone!
I'm doing about three peoples senior pictures this week. One of them today at four o'clock, then continuing tomorrow at six in the morning, then followed by some twins at eight in the morning... So I've been kind of busy due to that. But hey, at least I'm making some money!
It is one week till I move down to Missoula in my dorm and I'm super, super excited! It'll be my start to college life and I'm so ready for the move! Getting out of this disgustingly small hopeless town will do me some good in the romance department as well as finding a job and hopefully a career.
So that's been my life recently! Yeah, and on top of it I got a text message from facebook this morning about a message from one of my best friends dad. Now I'm going to go talk to her about what is going on and going to try to get her to tell him. I don't know if this could go horribly wrong, or delightfully right. I guess we'll just find out.
So now that I've informed you about my life and the happening-ness of it all, I'll tell you what's been going on through my head the past couple of weeks.
Now the past couple of weeks you all know I've been obviously dealing with a guy problem! Now most people resort to doing something about it! Like calling them and talking to them about it, or visiting them and talking to them about it. Anyway, it always resorts in them talking to them about it. Do you know how hard it is to talk this guy about anything! Like seriously! I'll text him and end up getting one word responses, or responses that don't ever answer the question. It's this stupid game he likes to play and it's starting to piss me off!
So like I was saying earlier, when someone is having troubles with a certain guy/girl in their life they usually resort to things such as working it out, talking about it, or even just talking to friends about it. Well I can certainly tell you that I'm so past all of those I'm down into the depression of the realism that it is forever over. And what do most girls do in a situation like this? That's right, stuff their face full of fatty, unhealthy, greasy foods all while watching a romantic comedy with girlfriends.
However I'm not a girl nor am I a typical male either. I resort to myself. The last thing I want to do is be around a bunch of people when I already feel so alone. I know I'd be with drawn from them and not want to do anything, and I don't want to be cheered up (Sometimes it's good to give it a few days to do wallow.) So what do I resort to?
Nutella and RuPaul's Drag Race.
If those are the two things you guessed, well you either stalk me late at night, or you know me way too well. Oh I also forgot to mention late night depressing posts on tumblr.
Yes, I have started a relationship with Nutella and RuPaul's Drag Race. It's sad I know, but what am I supposed to do? Get up and move on with my life? Psh, that seems like way to much work! Especially if that certain guy texts me and wants to know how I'm doing, it'll boost up his ego while I tell him that I'm degrading myself as a future lover to anyone!
Of course I could turn to friends, but I realized they are probably all sick of me telling them about him, and I know I am sick talking about him. So I turn to my good friends that can't judge me, Nutella and RuPaul's Drag Race.
However I know these relationships will not last either. I've only had my Nutella for about two days and I'm already almost out of it! As with RuPaul's Drag Race, there is only so many episodes and I'm halfway done!
Maybe when that relationship is done, with my hazelnutty spreadable goodness and my funny makeup caked TV show, I'll be able to reflect on my life and realize how worthless I was being. Thus deciding to forget all of those sad depressing days and telling myself I'm going to be better than all of that and I'm going to meet someone worth while in Missoula! (Did I mention I only have a week till I moved down there? I did? Oh well I'm saying it again!)
So if there is one thing I'm learning from this experience !(as well as from the wise words of Emilie Autumn) 'gentlemen aren't nice,' but Nutella and a reality competitive TV show about Drag Queens can brighten anyone's day!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
August 11, 2011 (part two): Dear _____________, Goodbye Forever you Motherfu...
Dear ______________,
I would like to inform you that I have deleted you off facebook. You maybe wondering to yourself why? What did I do, again? Or I'm hoping you are asking yourself that even though you are probably going, “Oh meh God... he is such a drama queen, whateves, I'm gonna go find another guy to screw.” So I'm going to make this as long and painful as possible for you to read! Now to the fact if you are actually going to read it, I have no f*cking clue! Part of me hopes you do and the other part hopes you don't. Then I realized, I don't give a f*ck if you do, because I want you out of my life!
Let's begin.
I remember when I first laid eyes on you at the ________ concert. I was dancing next to my friends in my “hot girl disguise” (thanks Jenna Marbles), when I turned and saw you stand right next to us. It was crazy to see someone so amazingly hot at first and I had to tell everyone about you. So of course I did. We then proceeded to befriend you, holding your stuff, dancing with you, leading you up to the front with us and what not. It wasn't until a couple days after that you finally added my friend on facebook and I added you.
I was so ecstatic to meet someone like you because it usually never ever happens to someone like me. A “cute” gay boy from rural Montana, who's been sheltered all his life from the endless possibilities of the gay dating world. So we texted each other, we got to know each other; I would hope to think, but I honestly think you got to know me more than I got to know you.
Anyways, after countless of weeks texting each other and what not, we finally met up in _________. My friends and your friend got to know each other very well but we were forced to just kind of go on with everyone else, making it very awkward and embarrassing and what not. However you continued to dazzle me with asking me to come see you.
Finally one night I did! We had a blast, or, again, I would like to think so. We ended up the night laying next to each other in very uncomfortable positions but our heads seemed to touch and never wanted to be apart. By the way, I kept forgetting to tell you how cute your snores were. I realize now they aren't so cute anymore.
Later the next day one thing led to another and bing, bang, boom! We left each other after our little moment of sheer bliss, or, yet again, I would like to think so. After that you never bothered to contact me for about, I don't know, two weeks. Then I tried to ask you what we were, you didn't know; I didn't know but I knew what I wanted so I kept after it. I failed like I usually do and I think I only made you hate me. With each text I would send and the non-response, or lack of one, I could feel you slipping away from my grasps. Soon everything just ended.
I never came to turns with it ending the way it did; I was still on mission to get you to like me. It didn't work out so well. I cried over you. I wept, groaned, howled, grieved over how I lost this battle that seemed like I was only fighting. Then it all became clear one night when I had a dream that I was telling you off, and let me tell you, it was a good dream. After I had it, I literally texted my friend and told her to delete your number from her phone, for she was holding it for me when I deleted your phone number my phone but then wanted it back again. I then deleted every message between you and I. Thus resulting in deleting you off facebook, again.
Now I wanted to tell you why I was deleting you, but my friends were right; Why should I have to tell you why I'm deleting you? Who cares if you are upset or not about it? Then I wrote this letter to tell you why I did it and why I realized you and me really can't be.
You see, I get why it didn't work. Not only is it because you are a Taurus and I, a Gemini, but I made you feel something. I made you feel like there was really someone else in this world that could take care of you and make you feel like someone actually cared about you, besides your friends obviously. You've done it many times, opened up only to be heart broken by the guy that you feel so desperately for. So you didn't open up, however I was getting you too, little by little and you felt taken aback by it.
So finally you had me where you wanted me; you a mermaid and I a sailor, you lured me into the dark depths of the ocean with your intimidating song. After our time together you realized I was falling for you and you couldn't fall for me. You had been hurt so many times before by people who had done the same, you subconsciously did the same. You got rid of me before you had to open up and be hurt; instead of you getting hurt in the end, it was me who was left heart broken and dead, floating for the next boat to find my beaten carcass.
You liked me, but you knew you couldn't. You gave me the excuse that we were too far apart, but you never tried. You didn't want to be heartbroken again, so you broke my heart instead. You moved on so easily with your life and frankly, I envy you for it. For here I am, writing my last letter to you telling you all my feelings about what happened. I know you are probably like woah, he is such a f*cking crazy person! I'm so glad we didn't get together.
Now all of the above I could be totally wrong, but it's what I gather from what happened from the whole thing. I wanted this to be my last goodbye to you, knowing though, that you probably will never read it and that is fine by me. I just want you to know that I did care about you, but you f*cked it up. It wasn't me, like I thought while I sat here in my bed at 2 in the morning weeping over how I could have ruined it. It was all you.
So goodbye ______________. Oh, and F*CK YOU!
Have a wonderful life, and I hope you find someone as shallow as yourself.
XOXO forever,
Jerry
I would like to inform you that I have deleted you off facebook. You maybe wondering to yourself why? What did I do, again? Or I'm hoping you are asking yourself that even though you are probably going, “Oh meh God... he is such a drama queen, whateves, I'm gonna go find another guy to screw.” So I'm going to make this as long and painful as possible for you to read! Now to the fact if you are actually going to read it, I have no f*cking clue! Part of me hopes you do and the other part hopes you don't. Then I realized, I don't give a f*ck if you do, because I want you out of my life!
Let's begin.
I remember when I first laid eyes on you at the ________ concert. I was dancing next to my friends in my “hot girl disguise” (thanks Jenna Marbles), when I turned and saw you stand right next to us. It was crazy to see someone so amazingly hot at first and I had to tell everyone about you. So of course I did. We then proceeded to befriend you, holding your stuff, dancing with you, leading you up to the front with us and what not. It wasn't until a couple days after that you finally added my friend on facebook and I added you.
I was so ecstatic to meet someone like you because it usually never ever happens to someone like me. A “cute” gay boy from rural Montana, who's been sheltered all his life from the endless possibilities of the gay dating world. So we texted each other, we got to know each other; I would hope to think, but I honestly think you got to know me more than I got to know you.
Anyways, after countless of weeks texting each other and what not, we finally met up in _________. My friends and your friend got to know each other very well but we were forced to just kind of go on with everyone else, making it very awkward and embarrassing and what not. However you continued to dazzle me with asking me to come see you.
Finally one night I did! We had a blast, or, again, I would like to think so. We ended up the night laying next to each other in very uncomfortable positions but our heads seemed to touch and never wanted to be apart. By the way, I kept forgetting to tell you how cute your snores were. I realize now they aren't so cute anymore.
Later the next day one thing led to another and bing, bang, boom! We left each other after our little moment of sheer bliss, or, yet again, I would like to think so. After that you never bothered to contact me for about, I don't know, two weeks. Then I tried to ask you what we were, you didn't know; I didn't know but I knew what I wanted so I kept after it. I failed like I usually do and I think I only made you hate me. With each text I would send and the non-response, or lack of one, I could feel you slipping away from my grasps. Soon everything just ended.
I never came to turns with it ending the way it did; I was still on mission to get you to like me. It didn't work out so well. I cried over you. I wept, groaned, howled, grieved over how I lost this battle that seemed like I was only fighting. Then it all became clear one night when I had a dream that I was telling you off, and let me tell you, it was a good dream. After I had it, I literally texted my friend and told her to delete your number from her phone, for she was holding it for me when I deleted your phone number my phone but then wanted it back again. I then deleted every message between you and I. Thus resulting in deleting you off facebook, again.
Now I wanted to tell you why I was deleting you, but my friends were right; Why should I have to tell you why I'm deleting you? Who cares if you are upset or not about it? Then I wrote this letter to tell you why I did it and why I realized you and me really can't be.
You see, I get why it didn't work. Not only is it because you are a Taurus and I, a Gemini, but I made you feel something. I made you feel like there was really someone else in this world that could take care of you and make you feel like someone actually cared about you, besides your friends obviously. You've done it many times, opened up only to be heart broken by the guy that you feel so desperately for. So you didn't open up, however I was getting you too, little by little and you felt taken aback by it.
So finally you had me where you wanted me; you a mermaid and I a sailor, you lured me into the dark depths of the ocean with your intimidating song. After our time together you realized I was falling for you and you couldn't fall for me. You had been hurt so many times before by people who had done the same, you subconsciously did the same. You got rid of me before you had to open up and be hurt; instead of you getting hurt in the end, it was me who was left heart broken and dead, floating for the next boat to find my beaten carcass.
You liked me, but you knew you couldn't. You gave me the excuse that we were too far apart, but you never tried. You didn't want to be heartbroken again, so you broke my heart instead. You moved on so easily with your life and frankly, I envy you for it. For here I am, writing my last letter to you telling you all my feelings about what happened. I know you are probably like woah, he is such a f*cking crazy person! I'm so glad we didn't get together.
Now all of the above I could be totally wrong, but it's what I gather from what happened from the whole thing. I wanted this to be my last goodbye to you, knowing though, that you probably will never read it and that is fine by me. I just want you to know that I did care about you, but you f*cked it up. It wasn't me, like I thought while I sat here in my bed at 2 in the morning weeping over how I could have ruined it. It was all you.
So goodbye ______________. Oh, and F*CK YOU!
Have a wonderful life, and I hope you find someone as shallow as yourself.
XOXO forever,
Jerry
Saturday, August 13, 2011
August 11, 2011: 35 reasons why I can't get a guy.
Today wasn't good. I'm not going to go into details, mainly because this is not one of those types of posts. However, this Saturday I'm excited to be going down to OUTFEST in Missoula with Cora and Molly. We will be meeting up with Nina, Devan, and Haley down there. So I'm pretty stoked for it and I'm ready.
Cora and I decided it was going to be good for me because, well first of all it'll be oozing gays out of every pore in Missoula, so that way we can find me a nice guy, who wants me more than to just to use me. So I'm on the hunt for guys, but I don't know how it's going to go... After crying for a good hour over how much my love life sucks, I began thinking of why it does. Why am I so terrible at getting guys to like me? Psh, to even remotely look at me! So here is a list of reasons why I can't seem to get a guy:
1. I'm socially awkward.
2. I've grown up in a small town with a huge lack of LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual, Transgender) culture.
3. I've never had a real relationship.
4. I scare away just about every new person I meet.
5. I scare away just about every new person I meet because I'm socially awkward.
6. I might be slightly mentally handicapped.
7. My best friend is a dog...
8. I am too fat...
9. I'm too skinny?
10. I get attached easily.
11. I'm a Gemini... yeah I don't know what that has to do with anything...
12. I get over emotional watching movies about Japanese Vampires.
13. I get over emotional watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
14. I'm too god-damn over emotional.
15. I'm too nerdy.
16. I think I'm going crazy... or I've been crazy... that doesn't really seem to fly too much with guys now-a-days.
17. I believe the aliens, while testing my body late at night and rupturing a nerve that makes me unmotivated, also put in a chip in my head to make me seem unappealing to the male population.
18. I'm uglier than I thought I was.
19. I wish I could have had a relationship with one of the Hardy Boys.
20. I'm loud.
21. I'm obnoxious.
22. I'm loud and obnoxious. (Which is why I'm socially awkward and scare people away.)
23. I was born with a some sort of disease that makes me think I'm beautiful when I look at myself but I'm really hideous like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
24. I am the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
25. I laugh at my own jokes.
26. I'm not as funny as I think I am.
27. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too gay?
28. I realized... I'm too gay.
29. I'm sexually frustrated.
30. I have no life.
31. I like to facebook stalk people.
32. Whenever I find someone I like, I follow them while singing, “Prisoner” by Jeffree Star quietly.
33. I'm terrible at flirting. (Honestly, I'm pretty sure they think I'm mentally handicapped.)
34. I'm dead and I'm a ghost so they don't seem me and I'm just lingering around this world waiting for my true love that will never come. So now I'll be stuck forever and I can't move on!
35. I'm not sexually appealing, you'd rather bring me home to your parents rather than throw me down and ravish me on your kitchen table... I have needs you know!
So that is it, those are all the reasons why I can't get a guy... or so I think so. Maybe something great will happen. Life will mysteriously go up in this long elevator ride to whatever floor it wants to go! So I can't wait for Saturday... I only hope I'm not too damn socially awkward like usual...
Cora and I decided it was going to be good for me because, well first of all it'll be oozing gays out of every pore in Missoula, so that way we can find me a nice guy, who wants me more than to just to use me. So I'm on the hunt for guys, but I don't know how it's going to go... After crying for a good hour over how much my love life sucks, I began thinking of why it does. Why am I so terrible at getting guys to like me? Psh, to even remotely look at me! So here is a list of reasons why I can't seem to get a guy:
1. I'm socially awkward.
2. I've grown up in a small town with a huge lack of LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual, Transgender) culture.
3. I've never had a real relationship.
4. I scare away just about every new person I meet.
5. I scare away just about every new person I meet because I'm socially awkward.
6. I might be slightly mentally handicapped.
7. My best friend is a dog...
8. I am too fat...
9. I'm too skinny?
10. I get attached easily.
11. I'm a Gemini... yeah I don't know what that has to do with anything...
12. I get over emotional watching movies about Japanese Vampires.
13. I get over emotional watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
14. I'm too god-damn over emotional.
15. I'm too nerdy.
16. I think I'm going crazy... or I've been crazy... that doesn't really seem to fly too much with guys now-a-days.
17. I believe the aliens, while testing my body late at night and rupturing a nerve that makes me unmotivated, also put in a chip in my head to make me seem unappealing to the male population.
18. I'm uglier than I thought I was.
19. I wish I could have had a relationship with one of the Hardy Boys.
20. I'm loud.
21. I'm obnoxious.
22. I'm loud and obnoxious. (Which is why I'm socially awkward and scare people away.)
23. I was born with a some sort of disease that makes me think I'm beautiful when I look at myself but I'm really hideous like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
24. I am the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
25. I laugh at my own jokes.
26. I'm not as funny as I think I am.
27. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too gay?
28. I realized... I'm too gay.
29. I'm sexually frustrated.
30. I have no life.
31. I like to facebook stalk people.
32. Whenever I find someone I like, I follow them while singing, “Prisoner” by Jeffree Star quietly.
33. I'm terrible at flirting. (Honestly, I'm pretty sure they think I'm mentally handicapped.)
34. I'm dead and I'm a ghost so they don't seem me and I'm just lingering around this world waiting for my true love that will never come. So now I'll be stuck forever and I can't move on!
35. I'm not sexually appealing, you'd rather bring me home to your parents rather than throw me down and ravish me on your kitchen table... I have needs you know!
So that is it, those are all the reasons why I can't get a guy... or so I think so. Maybe something great will happen. Life will mysteriously go up in this long elevator ride to whatever floor it wants to go! So I can't wait for Saturday... I only hope I'm not too damn socially awkward like usual...
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
August 9, 2011: 35 reasons why I'm unmotivated.
For the past two days, I have done nothing. I've woken up at around two in the afternoon to find myself, completely unmotivated. Actually, now that I think about it, I've been like this the past... well whenever my friend Cora left. I don't know why either... there is just something about having someone practically making you do things that just makes you motivated to actually do things.
I have a few reasons why I'm so unmotivated, all of which some people (like my mother, grandmother and the rest of the women in my family) will find completely illegitimate. However I find all the reasons perfectly logical.
1. Sometime during the night aliens took me up into their spaceship and did special tests on me to gain more knowledge about humans. However, while in the process of doing their tests on me, they struck a nerve somewhere in my brain that made me not want to do anything at all.
2. Sometime during the night, my body was invaded by tiny microscopic men that took control of my brain and is making me not want to do anything at all.
3. Instead of men it was little tiny microscopic women...
4. My brain is fried from all the hairspray I've used throughout my life and now it's finally taking it's toll.
5. I blame tumblr.
6. I blame friends on tumblr.
7. Late night texting to friends on tumblr.
8. Late night texting to friends.
9. I'm secretly stuck in a government testing site where they are using weird sleeping methods on me so I don't want to do anything at all.
10. I'm possessed.
11. I've finally gone crazy.
12. Love has finally got me down... (one of the more logical ones actually)
13. A vampire has come into my room at night to feed off me and then I'm drained all day... (oh puns.)
14. Mind control.
15. I have no life.
16. I have no life with friends who all have a job.
17. I don't have a job.
18. I'm just bored.
19. I'm broke.
20. I'm tired.
21. I'm bored, broke, and tired.
22. I blame the heat of the summer...
23. I eat too much?
24. I don't eat enough?
25. Someone has poisoned our water supply and I'm slowly dying.
26. Someone has poisoned our food and I'm slowly dying.
27. I have skin cancer and I'm slowly dying.
28. That Vampire that feeds off me is killing me a little each time he feeds and so I'm slowly dying.
29. I blame the economy... for making me not eat enough so that I'm slowly dying.
30. I'm dying... slowly....
So those are my reasons why I've been so unmotivated... maybe if I had a boyfriend or even someone living with me (that isn't my mother), I would be apt to doing much more with my time this summer, but with the internet and the hot hot days, I'm tired all the time and seem to just be unmotivated.
Well... let's hope it'll change soon!
I have a few reasons why I'm so unmotivated, all of which some people (like my mother, grandmother and the rest of the women in my family) will find completely illegitimate. However I find all the reasons perfectly logical.
1. Sometime during the night aliens took me up into their spaceship and did special tests on me to gain more knowledge about humans. However, while in the process of doing their tests on me, they struck a nerve somewhere in my brain that made me not want to do anything at all.
2. Sometime during the night, my body was invaded by tiny microscopic men that took control of my brain and is making me not want to do anything at all.
3. Instead of men it was little tiny microscopic women...
4. My brain is fried from all the hairspray I've used throughout my life and now it's finally taking it's toll.
5. I blame tumblr.
6. I blame friends on tumblr.
7. Late night texting to friends on tumblr.
8. Late night texting to friends.
9. I'm secretly stuck in a government testing site where they are using weird sleeping methods on me so I don't want to do anything at all.
10. I'm possessed.
11. I've finally gone crazy.
12. Love has finally got me down... (one of the more logical ones actually)
13. A vampire has come into my room at night to feed off me and then I'm drained all day... (oh puns.)
14. Mind control.
15. I have no life.
16. I have no life with friends who all have a job.
17. I don't have a job.
18. I'm just bored.
19. I'm broke.
20. I'm tired.
21. I'm bored, broke, and tired.
22. I blame the heat of the summer...
23. I eat too much?
24. I don't eat enough?
25. Someone has poisoned our water supply and I'm slowly dying.
26. Someone has poisoned our food and I'm slowly dying.
27. I have skin cancer and I'm slowly dying.
28. That Vampire that feeds off me is killing me a little each time he feeds and so I'm slowly dying.
29. I blame the economy... for making me not eat enough so that I'm slowly dying.
30. I'm dying... slowly....
So those are my reasons why I've been so unmotivated... maybe if I had a boyfriend or even someone living with me (that isn't my mother), I would be apt to doing much more with my time this summer, but with the internet and the hot hot days, I'm tired all the time and seem to just be unmotivated.
Well... let's hope it'll change soon!
Monday, August 8, 2011
August 4, 2011: I'm not crazy I swear...
So lately I've been posting some serious stuff. I feel like I was going through a dark phase in my life, and it seems to happen to me sometimes. I wouldn't call it bi-polar or manic depression, but I would like to think that maybe somewhere deep down I am? Or maybe it's just the way I am. I am a Gemini and you know what they say about Gemini's!
… Yeah me either...
Anyways, I want to tell you what I was thinking and my thoughts during what I like to call my “Dark hours.” It's not a happy thought and I know a lot of you are gonna be like, 'Oh meh gah, he is such a fake and just looking for attention.' I'm not. The last thing I want to be seen as is an attention-seeker like my cousin. I want to open up to you all so I can get this off my chest and so, like I say in almost every other single post, that kids, teens, young adults, or even struggling adults, can learn from me and know that there is someone like them out there! That I'm here for them, for you!
For as long as I can remember I've always thought about death. I'm sure we all have, but we always dismiss it because we grow up learning you go to 'heaven' or 'hell.' Sometimes we are taught we rot in the ground and what not, other times we are taught we come back as something else and go through the stages of getting back into human form. It all really depends on where and how you grew up, with the affect or lack of affect of religion.
You see, I was always told, you go to 'heaven' or 'hell,' but I never really believed that. Well at first, sure I did, it was what mommy and everyone told me, that's how it had to be. Of course we grow and we open our eyes, or at least some of us do, and I kept thinking about it. I thought of every possible explanation I could come up with in my small, uneducated brain.
It wasn't until I was having problems with questioning my sexuality that I really thought about killing myself. I was, I don't know about fifth grade when these thoughts started coming into my head. It all started because of one kid that just bugged me more than the others about being who I was. I then would always just think about it and think about it. I thought, maybe everyone's life would be easier if I was just gone. I even thought, no one would miss me, or no one would even noticed if I was gone. You see at that time we were going through a big mess with my cousin. So you see, I had a perfect time to think about it. I was the one in the family that was never good enough; I did something right no one noticed, I did something wrong, no one forgot!
It wasn't until that day in Quinn's class (as stated in my July 16 blog post) that I really wanted to kill myself to get out of this mess I created for myself. Like I said, I obviously didn't because of a certain person who spoke up and helped me, even if he doesn't know that he did.
It was later on in high school that I realized I don't want to kill myself. I never wanted to kill myself... I just wanted to... die? Yes, I just wanted to die. I knew I couldn't and wouldn't kill myself. If there was just a way that I could just die, I know I would be in a better place.
That's the way I think. I don't know how to explain it really, it's just this feeling that I want to die. I think about it every day, and I mean every day. It's just some days I'm happier than others, like most people. But I know that if I could just die, life would be a lot easier, and maybe it's because I wouldn't have to deal with it.
In other words, I'm not suicidal, even though I have tendencies to want to so it would just be easier.
Take in the words of Sylvia Plath from her book The Bell Jar page 147 in the Paperback version by Haper Perennial.
“But when it came down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.”
I don't know how else to explain it. Maybe one day I'll die young like Sylvia, after making a huge mark on the world in some way. But we all know they don't care until you're dead.
In other words...
Everyone, don't worry about me! I'm fine and just go on and live your life! Don't worry about me! I'll be fine...
… Yeah me either...
Anyways, I want to tell you what I was thinking and my thoughts during what I like to call my “Dark hours.” It's not a happy thought and I know a lot of you are gonna be like, 'Oh meh gah, he is such a fake and just looking for attention.' I'm not. The last thing I want to be seen as is an attention-seeker like my cousin. I want to open up to you all so I can get this off my chest and so, like I say in almost every other single post, that kids, teens, young adults, or even struggling adults, can learn from me and know that there is someone like them out there! That I'm here for them, for you!
For as long as I can remember I've always thought about death. I'm sure we all have, but we always dismiss it because we grow up learning you go to 'heaven' or 'hell.' Sometimes we are taught we rot in the ground and what not, other times we are taught we come back as something else and go through the stages of getting back into human form. It all really depends on where and how you grew up, with the affect or lack of affect of religion.
You see, I was always told, you go to 'heaven' or 'hell,' but I never really believed that. Well at first, sure I did, it was what mommy and everyone told me, that's how it had to be. Of course we grow and we open our eyes, or at least some of us do, and I kept thinking about it. I thought of every possible explanation I could come up with in my small, uneducated brain.
It wasn't until I was having problems with questioning my sexuality that I really thought about killing myself. I was, I don't know about fifth grade when these thoughts started coming into my head. It all started because of one kid that just bugged me more than the others about being who I was. I then would always just think about it and think about it. I thought, maybe everyone's life would be easier if I was just gone. I even thought, no one would miss me, or no one would even noticed if I was gone. You see at that time we were going through a big mess with my cousin. So you see, I had a perfect time to think about it. I was the one in the family that was never good enough; I did something right no one noticed, I did something wrong, no one forgot!
It wasn't until that day in Quinn's class (as stated in my July 16 blog post) that I really wanted to kill myself to get out of this mess I created for myself. Like I said, I obviously didn't because of a certain person who spoke up and helped me, even if he doesn't know that he did.
It was later on in high school that I realized I don't want to kill myself. I never wanted to kill myself... I just wanted to... die? Yes, I just wanted to die. I knew I couldn't and wouldn't kill myself. If there was just a way that I could just die, I know I would be in a better place.
That's the way I think. I don't know how to explain it really, it's just this feeling that I want to die. I think about it every day, and I mean every day. It's just some days I'm happier than others, like most people. But I know that if I could just die, life would be a lot easier, and maybe it's because I wouldn't have to deal with it.
In other words, I'm not suicidal, even though I have tendencies to want to so it would just be easier.
Take in the words of Sylvia Plath from her book The Bell Jar page 147 in the Paperback version by Haper Perennial.
“But when it came down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.”
I don't know how else to explain it. Maybe one day I'll die young like Sylvia, after making a huge mark on the world in some way. But we all know they don't care until you're dead.
In other words...
Everyone, don't worry about me! I'm fine and just go on and live your life! Don't worry about me! I'll be fine...
Saturday, August 6, 2011
August 3, 2011: I think I'm crazy...
I think I've gone mad.
I ran away today. No one was home and I somehow found my way back, so I guess I didn't really run away. I had the intention to at least. That's what matters isn't it? What was I running from you may ask? Well ladies and gentleman come in close, I'm sure though, that it will come to you as no surprise. I was running from life.
How silly, absurd, lunatic, crazy, ridiculous, idiotic, illogical, inane, foolish.
But it's not.
I ran away today from life. I woke up and piled through the mountain of grimy clothes in my hamper, hoping to find something I only wore once from the past two weeks. I was unsuccessful but I didn't care. I figured, if I'm running away, why does it matter what I look like? They are always going to just look for me. My face will stay the same, my physical features.
I ran away today from the fear of life and returning to it. So I went to the obvious place where life doesn't much dwell. The graveyard. There I could freely think without the cloud of judgment surrounding me like the Police who had just caught a harbored fugitive. But in some way I was a fugitive. I was running from my very existence, as if it was the law and I had broken it and I was running far, far, far away from it so I wouldn't have to put up with it for the rest of my miserable life. Like I said earlier, logically the graveyard was the only place I knew I could go to be safe. Life does not much care for bodies that are rotting in the ground; becoming food for the organisms that have broken into the coffins.
When I arrived of course there was no movement in the hallow place where bodies rest. No movement, no life. Headstone after headstone I kept walking to the furthest part. I came upon the hill that overlooked the town. I saw the sunshine down upon the lake and I watched it as it reflected off in little sparks into my swollen eyes. I looked down. It was a long way down from the top to the road that led to some suburban houses on the way. I thought of jumping.
Surely if I had jumped it would be quite instant of a death. I also thought, what if I landed wrong? I could still be alive and have to live on paralyzed and broken. A thought then crossed my mind, how long would it take them to find me? I soon found my answer when an old man came out across his yard toward the road to his mailbox. It would be all of maybe two hours and the police would be called and everything would go to shit. What if I did it now? The old man out there, getting mail would surely not be ready for a body to come just out of the sky and land in front of him. Either he would take it as a sign from god that the world was about to end or have a heart attack and it could be a week till they found the pair of us, that was if he was not married. I kept peering over the edge. The old man walked back into his house. I missed my opportunity. Next time... maybe.
I took a step back and headed to a headstone and rested against it. The name was too worn off for me to talk to it by name. So I gave it a name, I named it Hanson. It was the only letter I could make out from the worn part. I sat there and I talked to this Hanson.
“Hey there Hanson, how's it goin'?” Was this the proper way to start a conversation with a dead guy? 'Hey I know you're dead and all but how's life treatin' ya?'
I got no response anway, so I kept talking.
“You know Hanson, I was wondering what it's like to be dead? Do you go off into a light and find yourself in 'heaven' looking down on everyone? Do we look like ants from up there?”
Again, I received no reply. I kept going.
“I think I might be ready.” Now I don't think it's weird to talk to a grave of someone you obviously don't know, especially if you don't know their real name because it was worn off. However, if a bunch of people were there, I'm sure they would want to have me committed. I would be able to feel their judgment stabbing me in my bony back, then they would go on to talk about it later and then happen to tell their friends that they saw this crazy guy talking to a grave alone today. This is why I liked the graveyard, nobody judges you, because no body is alive!
“I've been thinking about it a lot and something inside me feels like it's just time you know?”
I kept talking and talking. I talked about politics. I talked about my life story. I talked about my wretched cousin that I hate so much. I talked about how love always seems to bite me in the ass. I talked about how I don't know if I'm ready for college. I talked about what made me happy, what made me sad, what made me angry and what made me ready to die.
I found out Hanson wasn't really much of a talker. I was okay with that though, I needed someone to listen. Someone who couldn't put their opinion into the matter and get tired of listening to me. I'm sure though up in 'Heaven' he was either listening or yelling at me to shut the fuc.......
“Is it worth it?”
…....
I think I've gone mad.
Or maybe I've become sane?
It really depends on the way you look at it, I guess.
I realized after my talk to Hanson. I am trapped. In a bell jar, much of that like Sylvia Plath. There is an invisible force field that makes me want to just quit and give up. Sometimes it's lifted up to let me go on a few steps, then drop when I've gone all the steps I can take.
“to the person in The Bell Jar, black and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.”
I ran away today. No one was home and I somehow found my way back, so I guess I didn't really run away. I had the intention to at least. That's what matters isn't it? What was I running from you may ask? Well ladies and gentleman come in close, I'm sure though, that it will come to you as no surprise. I was running from life.
How silly, absurd, lunatic, crazy, ridiculous, idiotic, illogical, inane, foolish.
But it's not.
I ran away today from life. I woke up and piled through the mountain of grimy clothes in my hamper, hoping to find something I only wore once from the past two weeks. I was unsuccessful but I didn't care. I figured, if I'm running away, why does it matter what I look like? They are always going to just look for me. My face will stay the same, my physical features.
I ran away today from the fear of life and returning to it. So I went to the obvious place where life doesn't much dwell. The graveyard. There I could freely think without the cloud of judgment surrounding me like the Police who had just caught a harbored fugitive. But in some way I was a fugitive. I was running from my very existence, as if it was the law and I had broken it and I was running far, far, far away from it so I wouldn't have to put up with it for the rest of my miserable life. Like I said earlier, logically the graveyard was the only place I knew I could go to be safe. Life does not much care for bodies that are rotting in the ground; becoming food for the organisms that have broken into the coffins.
When I arrived of course there was no movement in the hallow place where bodies rest. No movement, no life. Headstone after headstone I kept walking to the furthest part. I came upon the hill that overlooked the town. I saw the sunshine down upon the lake and I watched it as it reflected off in little sparks into my swollen eyes. I looked down. It was a long way down from the top to the road that led to some suburban houses on the way. I thought of jumping.
Surely if I had jumped it would be quite instant of a death. I also thought, what if I landed wrong? I could still be alive and have to live on paralyzed and broken. A thought then crossed my mind, how long would it take them to find me? I soon found my answer when an old man came out across his yard toward the road to his mailbox. It would be all of maybe two hours and the police would be called and everything would go to shit. What if I did it now? The old man out there, getting mail would surely not be ready for a body to come just out of the sky and land in front of him. Either he would take it as a sign from god that the world was about to end or have a heart attack and it could be a week till they found the pair of us, that was if he was not married. I kept peering over the edge. The old man walked back into his house. I missed my opportunity. Next time... maybe.
I took a step back and headed to a headstone and rested against it. The name was too worn off for me to talk to it by name. So I gave it a name, I named it Hanson. It was the only letter I could make out from the worn part. I sat there and I talked to this Hanson.
“Hey there Hanson, how's it goin'?” Was this the proper way to start a conversation with a dead guy? 'Hey I know you're dead and all but how's life treatin' ya?'
I got no response anway, so I kept talking.
“You know Hanson, I was wondering what it's like to be dead? Do you go off into a light and find yourself in 'heaven' looking down on everyone? Do we look like ants from up there?”
Again, I received no reply. I kept going.
“I think I might be ready.” Now I don't think it's weird to talk to a grave of someone you obviously don't know, especially if you don't know their real name because it was worn off. However, if a bunch of people were there, I'm sure they would want to have me committed. I would be able to feel their judgment stabbing me in my bony back, then they would go on to talk about it later and then happen to tell their friends that they saw this crazy guy talking to a grave alone today. This is why I liked the graveyard, nobody judges you, because no body is alive!
“I've been thinking about it a lot and something inside me feels like it's just time you know?”
I kept talking and talking. I talked about politics. I talked about my life story. I talked about my wretched cousin that I hate so much. I talked about how love always seems to bite me in the ass. I talked about how I don't know if I'm ready for college. I talked about what made me happy, what made me sad, what made me angry and what made me ready to die.
I found out Hanson wasn't really much of a talker. I was okay with that though, I needed someone to listen. Someone who couldn't put their opinion into the matter and get tired of listening to me. I'm sure though up in 'Heaven' he was either listening or yelling at me to shut the fuc.......
“Is it worth it?”
…....
I think I've gone mad.
Or maybe I've become sane?
It really depends on the way you look at it, I guess.
I realized after my talk to Hanson. I am trapped. In a bell jar, much of that like Sylvia Plath. There is an invisible force field that makes me want to just quit and give up. Sometimes it's lifted up to let me go on a few steps, then drop when I've gone all the steps I can take.
“to the person in The Bell Jar, black and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.”
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