Fag

I use the word “Fag”. I say “That’s so Gay”. I say “No Homo”. I say “Bitch”. I say “Man Up”. I say “don’t be a pussy”. I say “Cocksucker”. I say “retard”.

I have been told by many people not to say these things, including the “You Don’t Say” campaign. They say they are offensive which they are. I use those words to offend people. Not groups of people. Not gays. Not women. Not any group of people. Only the person I’m telling it to.

People don’t understand the true meanings of words. People take everything so literally. They want to believe that I am trying to offend some group. I use these words because of the connotative meaning. For the emotions and experiences behind that word. No word in the world has the same connotative meaning as another word.

When I call somebody a retard, I am not calling them a mentally handicapped person. I don’t call mentally handicapped people retards because they aren’t retards. A retard is a person who just did something completely idiotic and moronic.

When I call someone a fag. I don’t think they are a homosexual who I want to beat to death because of their sexuality. A fag is someone who is annoying. It can be used in a negative way or a joking way. People of my generation don’t really use it as a hate speech against gay people. Critics of this says that the word was and still is used against gay people. It’s a valid position, but that position does nothing .

That position does nothing to stop the usage of the word. All it does is keep the old, hateful meaning with the word. It keeps the stigma associated with the word. All languages and words have changed meaning over the years. Nobody’s has ever stopped it.

It is good these hateful words are being used more. It takes away the old even more hateful meaning. We the younger generations are giving them a new meaning. A word that we can joke around with. In 50 years the old meaning may be forgotten. My kids may never know the old meanings of fag or retard or that’s so gay. Wouldn’t that be wonderful for these old meaning to disappear?

We shouldn’t stop the use of these words. We should encourage this wonderful change. Because trying to stop this change will only keep these hateful meaning around for many more years.

Now many people use the n-word as an example that some words can never be used in a different meaning. But the n-word does have a different meaning now. It just has a slightly different spelling. Almost every rap song has the word nigga in it. When rappers use that word, are they talking about thousand of years of oppression or friends? The NAACP may be against the use of nigga, but I’m for it. It takes away the hateful meaning.

I’m amazed what my generation has done. We took hateful words that the older generations used and changed the meaning into things we can use while joking with friends.

You can disagree with me, and do everything in your power to stop the use of these words and have absolutely no effect on stopping society from using. Or you can embrace it.

Now you can decide not to use these words because you think the connotative meaning are rude. These are generally rude words. I completely understand and respect that position. These words are mostly used as insults. But insults that are usually in a joking manner to friends.

Just remember the next time you hear somebody say you’re so gay or fag or pussy. Think to yourself. Is that person calling him/her a homosexual or about to commit a hate crime or saying that women are lesser. Or is that person calling him/her stupid or annoying or afraid.

All words change meanings. Are you ready for it?
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Seriously?

Seriously? Why the hell is everybody so serious? Like really? I feel like nobody can have fun anymore.

People, including myself, need to learn to not take everything so seriously. Life is about having fun. Life is about living. Life isn’t about being so rigid that you can’t let lose. Or not being able to get out of your comfort zone. Or being wound so tightly you can’t stand to be punchline of a joke. We need to learn to relax.

We especially need to learn not to take ourselves so seriously. I try not too. It’s hard though. Who would ever think it would be hard to just let loose and be yourself? But it’s is.

I try to make myself the butt of the joke. I laugh along. I wear ridiculous clothes to school. Including wearing chubbies. Literally those things are the kings of not taking yourself seriously. That’s why I love them. I were brightly colored short shorts to school. So what? I remember the first time I wore them. I felt so ridiculous, and it was weird, but they grew on me. I started to feel liberated in them. I didn’t take myself so seriously. I felt ridiculous and I liked that. They remind me to not take myself so seriously. But when I do start to take my self seriously, I get reminded by my friends I stop and that I’m not as cool as I think I am and to get off my high horse. And that usually does the trick.

Some guys say I cant get how you wear those they’re so gay. It doesn’t even phase me. They don’t get it. They think they have to wear something they know will be accepted by society. That others will approve of They look at me and think what are you doing like they are concerned for me. They take themselves too seriously.

Then there the other guys. The ones I don’t even know. They see the shorts and say you go man and give me a high five. Those are people who know how to take a joke. They realize that my outfit is a joke. They realize it’s for fun. Those other guys just didn’t get it. They take life so seriously they don’t realize a joke when they see it.

We need to remember not to care so much about what others think of us. Honestly, most people are to busy with their lives to care about us. We need to relax and let loose. Stop taking everything so seriously and have fun. It makes life so much better.

Although I do relax and have fun, I need to practice this in every part of my life. Including my sexuality. I need to stop taking it so seriously. I need to remember it is only a little part of me and does not define me. I need to yell it from the roof tops and the mountains and every nation of the world. And tell every person. (Maybe I’m getting a little extreme here) But I don’t need to take it so seriously. I need to joke about it. Because most people don’t care and neither should I.

So I challenge you. Don’t care what other people think of you. Take some chances. Act crazy. Be funny and spontaneous. Don’t take yourself so seriously and hang out with others that do the same. When you do that you have so much more fun in life. You start to truly enjoy life.

PS: Check out Chubbies they are hilarious and the site is so funny, and the shorts are awesome.

Family

Family is something everyone has. But family is not based on blood. It’s not based on skin color. It’s not based on beliefs.

It is based on the experiences you share with a person or people.

It’s based on something stronger than anything we can imagine. It’s something so strong nothing and no one can break that bond. The bond of family.

You don’t have to like family. You don’t have to love family. You don’t have to see your family for the rest of your life. But they are still family.

This bond which nothing can break is special. It’s is formed from something you both or all of you shared. This experience could be anything. Your childhood. Falling in love together. A horrible thing. A miracle. A war. A fight for a common goal. Or simply a talk. This experience could be a few minutes or many years. The only qualification of this experience is that it changed you and that other person in a significant way for the rest of y’all’s lives.

This experience that fundamentally changed you and how you see the world, creates this bond. It creates a mutual understanding between both of y’all. A understanding of what the others been through. Of what the other is on the deepest level.

It usually creates a love for one another. But does not have to. It doesn’t even mean you like that person. It does mean that you would do anything for that person, even die. Because that shared experience nobody can take away. It’s is apart of you and affects the rest of your life.

It’s something that is hard to describe in words. My friend John and I are family. I’ve known him since kindergarten, and he is my best friend. But that does not make us family. It is something else. We grew up together. We have gone through the same experiences. We have affected who the other has become. We understand each other on the deepest level. I understand him even when what he says makes no sense. We have shaped the other into the people we are today. We are completely different people from who we were when we met. But we are still friends. I would die for him. We would be completely different people if we didn’t meet. I love him. He is my family.

I could not see him for a week, a month, a year, or the rest of my life. But we would still have that bond. That mutual understanding. If I saw him only one more time a hundred years from now, we would talk like we just saw each other yesterday.

He is my family.

Nothing could break that. Nothing could end that. Not even death.

That is family.

Acceptance

We all dream of acceptance. We as in all people. Not just gays. Not just foreigners. Not just weirdos. Not just minorities. All people. We all want to be accepted by other people. But why?

Why do I have this overwhelming need to be accepted by other people. Why do I want to fit in so badly? I really wish I didn’t.

I wish I didn’t have that need. That need I have to fit in. It isn’t really a need or want though, but actually a fear of standing out. That is why I want to fit in. I am scared.

I am scared of not being accepted. I am scared of being an outcast. I am scared coming out as gay will alienate me from the people I have become so close with. I wish I knew I would be accepted by everyone I come out to. But there is no way of knowing. The fear of the unknown is what controls me.

There is a inner conflict in me, though. And in all of us. We want to fit in while standing out. We want to be special. But standing out has a risk. When we try to stand out, we risk standing out too much. If we stand out too much we become an outcast. That is what I fear will happen to me.

I don’t want to stand out too much for being gay. But I still want to stand out in some way, so I make people laugh. That’s how I stand out. I make jokes in class. I’m sarcastic. I’m slightly rude. I say things other people can’t get a way with because I’m funny (or at least I think I am). My jokes aren’t only for laughs; they’re a defense mechanism.

I makes jokes about politics, current events, things, people, and my friends. My jokes can be funny and at times offensive. Whenever someone says something about me, I come back almost instantaneously with a joke about them. This keeps people off my back. They know if they say something about me, they will receive something even worse said right back to them.

This isn’t just protection from comments about me. It’s also protection from showing the real me. My sense of humor is part of me. No matter how sarcastic, dry, and rude it is. But I use that part of me to push people away. I make rude jokes about people. Those jokes push some people away. It makes others laugh. It keeps me from showing the other parts of me. The nice side. The caring side. The gay side. I use it as a shield to hide the other parts of me. And to stop people from getting close enough to see the true me.

Sometimes I let that shield down and show the real me. It’s nice. I can almost be the real me. The me that stands out not because I’m make jokes, but because I am myself.

I shouldn’t care if I stand out for being gay. I don’t care if I’m seen as an outcast by a lot of my “friends”. I might be an outcast with them, but I know ill be accepted with my true friends.

So who cares if you stand out in a way that isn’t the “norm”. I’m sure you fit just perfectly with the people you truly belong with.

The Future

I dream of my future. I can’t wait till I’m out of high school. When I’m no longer hiding my true self. When I became who I want to be.

I know I need to enjoy and love what I have, and what I am at this moment in my life. I do, but people, including myself have the constant desire to improve. I desire to improve myself and my life.

I want to get out of this house and this town. I want to got to UT in Austin. I want to meet people who will except me for who I am. I want to be open about and proud of my sexuality. I want to find someone I love. I want to marry that person and adopt kids. I want to have a successful job. I want to help others. I want many things in my future.

All these things I want will not come easily or instantly. I know that. To get what I want, I know I will have to work hard. That’s the thing about wanting. Many people want many things, but few people are willing to work for those things. But I will work for my future.

I know my future will not turn out exactly how I plan. I know I won’t get everything I want in my future. That’s the awesome thing about life. It is so unpredictable. It is so amazing. It has so many options. Life is so long and you can do so many things during it. It has endless possibilities. I think the true thing I want, in future, in my life, is love.

I want to find someone to love and I want that person to love me back. I want to grow old with that person. I want to have kids with that person that we can love together. But I can’t have that love unless I come out. Nobody can love me if they do not know who I really am. When I come out, I know I will receive the love I crave. From friends and family, old and new. But I need to wait till college, so I can begin my “new” life, with new people, as my true self. It hard to change who you are your 3rd year in high school. So I’ll wait till college for my new and exciting future.

I know it seems dumb to wait. I should start living my new and exciting life right now. I should come out to the world right now. I should start sharing this great love I have. But I’m scared. There is all this hate people have in high school. I’m afraid of being rejected. I can’t escape those people and chose who I see everyday till I’m out of that place. So I will wait till I start this future. I will wait to share this love.

And I don’t know what the future has in store for me. The only thing I do know is that it will be full with true, genuine love.

The Dangers Hidden in the Closet

From my many years of experience, I have learned the closet is a dangerous place.

The closet is a type of purgatory. We have realized and have accepted, at least in some tiny way, that we are gay, but we are not ready yet to come out to the world. It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and dangerous.

It is the place were we have realized we are gay, but haven’t fully accepted ourselves or that other will accept us. The closet is dangerous. Some hate themselves and try to deny who they are. Some are afraid of what others might say, their parents, or even for their lives. It’s a place of fear.
It’s were we go when we think we have no place to go. We can’t go back to being ignorant of our homosexuality. And we think we can’t come out to anyone. So we go into hiding.

We separate the whole world and the people in it away from us. We shut the doors and occasionally peak out. That is where the true danger lies. When we cut ourselves off for protection from the hate of the world, we are actually leaving ourselves very vulnerable.

While in the closet, we have many issues. Self-hate. Body image problems. Fear. Depression. Eating disorders. And many other problems. People outside the closet also have these problems, but being in the closet stops us from getting help. We think we can’t tell anyone we are gay, so they don’t know the real us. We don’t talk to people while in the closet about these problems. When we don’t handle our problems by talking to people and getting help, and instead we hide them. It leads to bad thing.

It leads to self-harm. Severe depression. Cutting yourself off completely from the world. Suicide. I know those things too well. The things that could happen in the closet are much worse than anything that can happen to you outside the closet. Inside the closet, you are slowly decaying away. When outside you can seek help from people. It is easier to accept and be yourself. You will have a whole group of people who will love the true you. If you just come out, it will be okay.

I’m not saying it will be perfect, but it will be better. I have only come out to one person. But even that has made a huge difference. I now have somebody to talk to about my problems and my feeling and release all my stress too. It’s great! And I never had that in the closet.

Trust me when I say that being open with at least one person is worth it. It will help you deal with any problems you have. So I challenge you to come out to just one person. I promise it’s worth it!

Strength

Here’s to the lonely ones.
The depressed.
The cutters.
The drug abusers.

The fake smile when everything is falling down around them.
The ones who laugh when they are really dying inside.
They are not actually happy.
And they have no desire for your help.

You cannot spot them, hate them, love them, feel pity for them, help them, or stop them.
About the only thing you can do is pray for them.
Because they will not let you know who they are.

They smoke. They drink. They snort. They inject. They escape. They whittle.
They try to forget the reason why.
But they cannot

How else can you take the crap you call a life and still pretend everything is alright.
Or sit in silence while screaming for help on the inside.
Or gaze at a silver razor blade and not end it all right then.
We are surrounded by these kinds of people.

While some see them as the lonely ones,
I see strength.

Because the people with enough strength to get through that shit alone,
Are the ones who can make it through anything.

Why I Smoke

I’m not a dumb kid. I know smoking is horrible for me. I know it will give me cancer. I know I will die earlier, than I should, from it. I know I’m only 17, and it’s illegal. I know I should quit. But I don’t care.

All of y’all are probably thinking that smoking is a gross habit and I should quit. That’s what all my friends tell me.
I agree completely, but they don’t understand.

I smoke for many reasons. I smoke because I like the buzz. I smoke because I’m addicted and I crave it. I think about it all the time. I need to smoke. I don’t think I’m addicted to the nicotine though.

I’m addicted to the control. Smoking a cigarette, is something I do. I’m in the closet. I hide who I truly am. It makes me feel out of control. That cigarette is my substitute for control.

When I smoke, I chose when to do it. I’m not suppose to do it, but I do it anyways. It gives me this feeling. The buzz. It like the whole world is standing still. That I can just relax and have this moment to myself to enjoy.

I don’t get that time, with AP classes and college classes and work and family and friends and my activities and being gay. I just don’t have the emotional strength to deal with it all. So I smoke.

From the first cigarette I tried from a friend, I knew it was for me. It just felt right. Sometime, It’s the only thing that feels right in my life.

I just don’t care anymore.

I don’t care if you fucking judge me for this or for anything. I’m so fucking done with judging. I’m just done with all this high school bullshit and being alone.

I just want a boyfriend that will love me and cuddle with me and I can be my true self with. And won’t judge me for who I am.

I just crave a place where I won’t be judged. For smoking. For being gay. For being me.

I haven’t found that place or that person yet. I haven’t found a way to let all these feelings out.

So I smoke.

I smoke to fulfill my addiction. To escape the judgment of world I live in. To go against society. To be bad. To forget the pain I feel. To feel the buzz. To feel good. To feel in control. To not feel so alone.

Sorry I lashed out in the middle of this post. I guess I just I just have a lot on my mind. I guess I just need a smoke.

Hate

Recently, the founder of The Westboro Baptist Church, Fred Philips, died. He spread hate and is most famous for his churches pickets.

The signs at the pickets said, God Hates Fags, Thank God for Dead Soldiers, and many other hateful comments. This sickened many people including myself. What sickened me even more ,was the comments people said about him on the Buzzed post about his death.

They said, I’m glad he is dead, I hope he burns in hell, I can’t wait till he gets to the gates of heaven and God Rejects him, he was the scum of the earth, I hate him, and many other hateful comments.

I take no pleasure in his death. I feel no joy. I actually feel sorry for him. He lived his life hating. That’s no way to live. I feel sorry that he never knew what it was like to live a life of love.

He spent his life spreading hate, and now that he’s dead a little less hate is in the world. But when you celebrate his death with more hate. That’s not right. All the hate that went away with his death was quickly replaced with those hateful comments. And thats what he wanted. He wanted people to hate, and he was successful if you post and say hateful things.

We should be celebrate having the good fortune of being able to live a life a love. We should be fighting against his hate and that churches hate with love. It’s harder, but it’s what we must do. God wanted us to love.

God takes no count of our sins. He does not care. All sins are equal in his eyes. No matter what anyone does, he can and does forgive them. And we should be more like God. We should forgive him and others. It’s hard to do, but it takes hate out of the world.

As a gay guy, I forgive what he did. Maybe when he gets to the gates of heaven, God will show him the light. Maybe he will be sorry. I hope. God loves everybody, even him. I want everyone to go to heaven. I want hell to be empty. I want love to prevail.

The Good Old Days

Earlier this evening my Dad came over to my Mom’s house to get some family pictures. They had a big stack from when they were married.

For about 30 minutes they sorted through the pictures. It felt like we were a family again. I saw pictures that I had never seen before from when I was a young kid.

I felt so nostalgic. I wanted to go back to the time when I had no responsibility, no worries, and no stress. The pictures looked so nice and perfect. I saw my parents together and happy in the pictures. I wish I could go back to that time. It seemed so much better then.

I didn’t have to hide the true gay me. I didn’t even know then. I was so innocent, so happy, and everyone seemed that way. It was before I had to hide my secret to the world. Sitting there with my parents, I wished we could all go back. It was so much better then.

That’s the thing about looking back, It always seems so good. We seemed so happy in all the pictures. Of course we did, those pictures only captured the good times.

My parents still didn’t get along then. I still had problems. My sister still had problems. We all still had problems.

Looking at the past doesn’t solve your problems. You think it was so much better then. You just wish you could go back. Well you can’t do that. It’s okay to look back on the past and remember those good times, but you can’t live in those memories. You can’t go back and you can’t magically make your current life perfect.

You have to appreciate what you have now and work hard to improve your future life. And remember to enjoy your life now and and appreciate every moment. Don’t live in the past or you might miss the present because…

You don’t realize how good you have it till it’s already over.