It's been a while since I've posted. I've been studying non-stop for my Math Final, so I haven't really had time to update. My apologies. However, today's blog is something that took a lot of time to think about. Yet again, I need to introduce someone to set the stage. Enter Little Bunny.
To start off, I have to renege something that I stated in an earlier post. I love you Alexis, but I lied when I said you know the most about me. In all actuality, Little Bunny does. Now Little Bunny isn't her real name, it's what her parents used to call her. Her real name is Lily and she knows me heart and soul.
Lily and I met our senior year of high school. In reality we probably had met before that, but neither of us remembers whether we did or not. We were chosen to lead a retreat for part of our senior class and things just kind of went from there. I was pretty skeptical about her at first. Why?
Well, Lily is a very cynical person. She sees and comments on things as they are, not as other people would like them to be. In her words, she's a realist. She doesn't sugar coat things, she takes and sees things at face value. Nothing more, nothing less. It's kind of unnerving and a lot of people think she's a bitch because of it. That's exactly the reason she is one of my best friends in the entire world.
The first time we really talked was after school one day. I literally had a foot in the door of my car when she came up to me and started blathering on about something with our leader group. To this day I can't remember what we talked about for the hour and a half that we stood next to my car. All I know is that I left that parking lot hoping that we would become friends and stay close. Boy did I get that wish.
Lily understands me in a way that no other person can. See, deep down I'm really a very cynical and judgmental person. I'm not judgmental where I automatically assume things about people and treat them differently because of it. I'm judgmental in the sense that I look at every occurrence, person and thing in my life and compare them to everything else in my life. I see things for what they are and I'm not afraid to analyze them at a base level. Lily is the same frickin way. I adore that about her. Which brings me, FINALLY, to tonight's topic: bitching.
I love to bitch about things. It helps me analyze something and it helps me deal with life. Again, Lily is the same way. We don't sugar coat things. If I fucked something up, I don't say that I messed up but it's still fine. I fucked up. It's as simple as that. We're blunt. I may not be like that outwardly to everyone for fear of losing people. However, in my mind, I'm analyzing everything and comparing it to everything else.
In the past 6 months, my life was turned completely upside down. For those that know me, you probably recognized this. For those that don't know me that well, let's just say that this was probably the worst year of my entire life. And through all of it, one of the few ways I found to cope with it was bitching to Lily. If I'm being stupid about something, she's not afraid to tell me that to my face and vice verse. Obviously she's going to be tactful, but she's not gonna sugarcoat it and tell me it was all someone else's fault. But that's enough of me convincing you that Lily is awesome.
Now for the part you're probably here for. Does this make me gay? Does needing to bitch about my problems to someone else add gay points? Possibly. Most guys are content just kind of holding things in, or maybe taking them out by playing a sport or shooting something or some such thing. I, however, feel the need to analyze my life and compare it to the world, with my best friend Lily. When you look at it that way, I think it does give me some gay points. If I was a MAN (grunt-spit-snort-chest bump-punch a wall), then I would keep it to myself and let my rage out in a physical way. Fuck that.
I wouldn't trade my coping method for the world. Lily S, I love you with all my heart. I am so glad that Kairos brought us together and I'm even happier that I have found a best friend in you. I can't even put in to words how much you mean to me. If I ever lost you, I don't think life would be worth living, mostly because I wouldn't have anyone to bitch with. And, surprise, today is your birthday. Another year and we can go get trashed at a bar while fawning over whatever pancakes happen to be in the vicinity. Regardless, I love you Little Bunny. Thanks for everything.
Peace Bro.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
One Step At A Time
I really should have written this post yesterday, but my internet was out, so I'm catching up now.
There are three things in my life that I am totally, completely and undeniably in love with: love, music and driving. ...Jesus, listen to me. "I love, love." I sound like Jack McFarland. Blech. Anyway. Those three things make up the majority of who I am these days. I mean technically the love part is debatable, but whatevs.
Driving is my ultimate escape. Give me a car and a full tank of gas, and I will show you the full spectrum of who I am, emotions and all. I rarely have a destination when I'm driving. Sure, I may know whether I'm going to drive Old Spanish or Gates Pass, but I don't necessarily have an endpoint for my excursion. It's hard to explain. Most people think of driving as a bore, as something that is unavoidable and ultimately grueling. I would rather drive cross-country than fly. I have had more spiritual, mental and emotional revelations driving the streets of Tucson at 4am than I have ever had in a classroom or a church or even in nature.
Of course, my driving expeditions wouldn't be complete without music. I'm not even going to get into what music I listen to because I would wind up with at least ten pages. But music means a lot to me. I connect with it. I can't play anything and I can't sing for shit. Regardless, music touches something in my soul that I can only describe as a feeling of pure joy. I can't even put it into words that will do it justice. Suffice it to say, I have no fewer than 5 songs going in my head at any given moment. Every song I like connects to my life, and every moment in life has a song attached to it. That a good enough description?
So last night, I decided it was time for a drive. I hadn't had any Hank time for about a week with everything that I've been doing. I hopped in my Jeep, cranked the tunes and took off. One of my favorite places to go in Tucson is a place I've come to call the Lookout. It has so many memories attached to it, both good and bad. Basically, my first boyfriend, Danny had dubbed it the Lookout because you can 'look out' over most of Tucson from it. So whenever I go there, no matter how beautiful it is, I am reminded of Danny.
I guess I should explain Danny. He was my first boyfriend. We met in high school and I spent the better part of a year following Danny's path of... we'll call it destruction. I was head over heels for Danny, but as I wasn't out yet, I kept him from everyone that didn't already know him. So all of my friends, all of my family, everyone. Over the time that we spent together, Danny confronted the fact that he was gay, ironically by allowing his friends to beat me up, physically and verbally, for being gay. We broke up multiple times, but I knew he was good deep down, so we got back together. Long story short, Danny moved to Cali, developed a drug problem, ruined his life and we haven't talked in about 3 months now. And I am completely fine with that.
Anyway, last night I decided to drive to the Lookout. En route, "Get It Right" from Glee came on. Gay moment. I am hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Glee. I don't care if that makes me gay, I love it. I know all the songs, can quote parts of it, and fan-girl over certain things. Guilty. I guess I love it so much because they put so many songs into real life situations and I connect with that. Take "Get It Right." 'Can I start again, with my faith shaken, cause I can't go back and undo this.' I feel like that line was written for my life.
So picture me, a 5'10, 240lbs white guy, speeding at 60 mph down a 40 mph road, in a white Jeep Cherokee. I'm jammin to Parkway Drive when Glee comes on. Do I change it because 'that music is so gay?' No. I turn it up even louder. I roll my windows down, let the rain soak my shirt and my seats. I let my tears flow freely and I belt it out right along with Lea Michele. Yes, I sing along to Glee in my care with the windows open. And no, I usually don't sing the guy parts. The girl parts have so much more emotion!
Like that picture I just painted for you? Well I sure do. And I won't deny it to anyone. I would rather be seen crying along to some girly song to get my pain out than get caught vandalizing a school any day. For one, there aren't any laws against singing poorly. But more importantly, singing my problems out allow me to feel the emotions and analyze them as I pass them by. I guess music, whether I'm singing to it or just letting it fill my ears, is therapeutic to me. When I'm surrounded by a song that I connect to, the world makes sense, even if its just for those 3 short minutes.
I guess my point here is that while some might accuse me of being gay for sobbing along to an Adele or Avril Lavigne song, I don't really give a fuck. It helps me. If you haven't caught on, or if you haven't met me, allow me to let you in on a little secret: I'm one fucked up kid. We won't even get into the why's, just take my word for it. I may be sensitive about a lot of things that I do that could classify me as gay, but music is not one of them. I'm here, I'm queer, I can't sing, and... deal with it? Yeah I can't rhyme. Hence why I have no musical talent.
In conclusion... yeah I'm writing a research paper here. Hadn't you noticed? In conclusion, I love music. I love music in my car, in my head, coming through my headphones, coming through speakers, wherever, whenever. I just love it. I feel music, whereas most people just hear it. If that makes me gay, so be it. You can take your judgements while I take my little piece of heaven. I'm cool with that.
"You're so cold, keep your hand in mine."
Miss you Popsicle.
There are three things in my life that I am totally, completely and undeniably in love with: love, music and driving. ...Jesus, listen to me. "I love, love." I sound like Jack McFarland. Blech. Anyway. Those three things make up the majority of who I am these days. I mean technically the love part is debatable, but whatevs.
Driving is my ultimate escape. Give me a car and a full tank of gas, and I will show you the full spectrum of who I am, emotions and all. I rarely have a destination when I'm driving. Sure, I may know whether I'm going to drive Old Spanish or Gates Pass, but I don't necessarily have an endpoint for my excursion. It's hard to explain. Most people think of driving as a bore, as something that is unavoidable and ultimately grueling. I would rather drive cross-country than fly. I have had more spiritual, mental and emotional revelations driving the streets of Tucson at 4am than I have ever had in a classroom or a church or even in nature.
Of course, my driving expeditions wouldn't be complete without music. I'm not even going to get into what music I listen to because I would wind up with at least ten pages. But music means a lot to me. I connect with it. I can't play anything and I can't sing for shit. Regardless, music touches something in my soul that I can only describe as a feeling of pure joy. I can't even put it into words that will do it justice. Suffice it to say, I have no fewer than 5 songs going in my head at any given moment. Every song I like connects to my life, and every moment in life has a song attached to it. That a good enough description?
So last night, I decided it was time for a drive. I hadn't had any Hank time for about a week with everything that I've been doing. I hopped in my Jeep, cranked the tunes and took off. One of my favorite places to go in Tucson is a place I've come to call the Lookout. It has so many memories attached to it, both good and bad. Basically, my first boyfriend, Danny had dubbed it the Lookout because you can 'look out' over most of Tucson from it. So whenever I go there, no matter how beautiful it is, I am reminded of Danny.
I guess I should explain Danny. He was my first boyfriend. We met in high school and I spent the better part of a year following Danny's path of... we'll call it destruction. I was head over heels for Danny, but as I wasn't out yet, I kept him from everyone that didn't already know him. So all of my friends, all of my family, everyone. Over the time that we spent together, Danny confronted the fact that he was gay, ironically by allowing his friends to beat me up, physically and verbally, for being gay. We broke up multiple times, but I knew he was good deep down, so we got back together. Long story short, Danny moved to Cali, developed a drug problem, ruined his life and we haven't talked in about 3 months now. And I am completely fine with that.
Anyway, last night I decided to drive to the Lookout. En route, "Get It Right" from Glee came on. Gay moment. I am hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Glee. I don't care if that makes me gay, I love it. I know all the songs, can quote parts of it, and fan-girl over certain things. Guilty. I guess I love it so much because they put so many songs into real life situations and I connect with that. Take "Get It Right." 'Can I start again, with my faith shaken, cause I can't go back and undo this.' I feel like that line was written for my life.
So picture me, a 5'10, 240lbs white guy, speeding at 60 mph down a 40 mph road, in a white Jeep Cherokee. I'm jammin to Parkway Drive when Glee comes on. Do I change it because 'that music is so gay?' No. I turn it up even louder. I roll my windows down, let the rain soak my shirt and my seats. I let my tears flow freely and I belt it out right along with Lea Michele. Yes, I sing along to Glee in my care with the windows open. And no, I usually don't sing the guy parts. The girl parts have so much more emotion!
Like that picture I just painted for you? Well I sure do. And I won't deny it to anyone. I would rather be seen crying along to some girly song to get my pain out than get caught vandalizing a school any day. For one, there aren't any laws against singing poorly. But more importantly, singing my problems out allow me to feel the emotions and analyze them as I pass them by. I guess music, whether I'm singing to it or just letting it fill my ears, is therapeutic to me. When I'm surrounded by a song that I connect to, the world makes sense, even if its just for those 3 short minutes.
I guess my point here is that while some might accuse me of being gay for sobbing along to an Adele or Avril Lavigne song, I don't really give a fuck. It helps me. If you haven't caught on, or if you haven't met me, allow me to let you in on a little secret: I'm one fucked up kid. We won't even get into the why's, just take my word for it. I may be sensitive about a lot of things that I do that could classify me as gay, but music is not one of them. I'm here, I'm queer, I can't sing, and... deal with it? Yeah I can't rhyme. Hence why I have no musical talent.
In conclusion... yeah I'm writing a research paper here. Hadn't you noticed? In conclusion, I love music. I love music in my car, in my head, coming through my headphones, coming through speakers, wherever, whenever. I just love it. I feel music, whereas most people just hear it. If that makes me gay, so be it. You can take your judgements while I take my little piece of heaven. I'm cool with that.
"You're so cold, keep your hand in mine."
Miss you Popsicle.
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