Passion

It's Thanksgiving. There may or may not be a Thanksgiving post. This is mainly because I'm thankful for myself :)

Anyway, my mother asked me to get the Christmas stuff from the attic and I came across a box called "Kids' School Work." I happened to find my 2D Studio Art portfolio. I loved the pieces I did, though I think I can improve them. I remember what it was like to do them and how proud I was, even though I didn't do well on the AP test.

I thought, "Why am I doing psychology? Why am I not doing art if I truly love it?" I asked Mom about it and she said there are things we do as a career and others we do as a hobby, and that the hobbies are hobbies because we love them. If they were our jobs, we may not love them as much. Aka don't go into art. That's a joke, because I know she'd support me no matter what. She still has a point though. Psychology offers more security at this point. Art... Just doesn't.

Drawing and painting are two of my passions, and I truly do love them. I just hope that one day I can utilize the passion I have for them.

A New Philosophy

Today in speech, we watched a video on gay marriage and why it should be legalized. The purpose was to evaluate the speech and its efficiency. The speech's message though, still hit home.

If Z and I one day decide to stay together indefinitely, we can't get married. If something happens to him, I can't visit him in the hospital. We can't enjoy the rights that heterosexual couples enjoy because we are gay, we can't get married, and civil unions are a disgustingly unequal comparison to marriage.

I don't have these rights. I hear about them over and over again. There are people fighting for these rights. Yet, at the end of the day, I still don't have them and may not before I die. I am no longer willing to wait.

I am unwilling to wait to be considered equal and to enjoy something that should be rightfully mine and that I've wanted since I was little and before I even thought that people would deny me those rights. I am unwilling to be content or complacent with the current state of affairs, the status quo. How do I secure these rights for myself? Must I wait until someone decides that gays can marry? Must I sit here and watch state after state but my own realize that gay marriage is something that should've happened a long time ago?

What did the black men and women, the women in general, do when they faced these dilemmas? Why did they have to wait so long? What was the agony of waiting to secure even such a right as voting or to occupy the same space as other people? Why are we forced to endure the denial of rights? Why have many religions, and why do they STILL, spoken against each of these things?

And what was the joy of every black man and woman when the slaves were freed and schools became integrated? What were the joys of women when they were able to vote and work for the same careers as men?

What will be my joy when one day, I can turn to my partner, whether it is Z or not, and say, "Baby, let's get married"?

What will be my joy and why am I not able to experience that now?

Halloween at a Bar

J: What the fuck just happened?
Me: I don't know. Mario just fucked Pooh

More on Halloween weekend later

Wake Up!

So, this weekend I fell in love with "Party in the USA". Gay, I know, right?

Well, I got an idea doing a search and found a blog that had the top five wake up songs. So, here's mine. A little light blogging this Monday morning (significantly better Monday morning :D!):

Party in the USA - Miley Cyrus
Keep Tryin' - Utada Hikaru
Oasis - Bennie K feat. Diggie Mo'
If I Ever Feel Better - Phoenix
32 Flavors - Alana Davis

So, not as easy as I thought, and a playlist like that definitely depends on my mood.

Halloween

I can't sleep.

But! I did get a late night epiphany as to what my Halloween costume should be. An integral part of my costume will be a pair of shorts. Short shorts. Showing off the legs this year :)

Top choices are:
1. Lifeguard
2. Gay X-Man
3. Hot Gay Nerd
4. Something random with minimal clothing

I'm leaning toward the Gay X-Man and Hot Gay Nerd because they'd be relatively inexpensive, I could use things I own, and they'd be a lot of fun. For the X-Man costume, I'd make a t-shirt and probably keep that one to wear regularly. For the Hot Gay nerd, I'd probably just wear shorts, a pair of Chucks, and glasses with the lenses popped out. This sounds like it'll be the most fun Halloween I've had in a long time.

I hope it works out!

Epiphany

In psychology, there is a term, insight. It's an epiphany, a shining bit of information that was unknown and is now suddenly clear. I had one today.

While speaking on getting back together with Z, I mentioned that our state of affairs is just like my breakup-to-makeup-to-extremely-angering-breakup with Q. He said he isn't Q. Good point. He isn't. But I kept going. Instead of annoying that bit of information and carrying on to something else, I let those feelings loose. I said how mad I was, how much I was hurt by Q's actions. And it dawned on me: it may be affecting me now.

In taking ownership of my feelings... I was mad that I was strung along, I was stupid for almost a whole fucking semester, waiting on him to turn around. I watched him get involved with other people, I watched him talk about them, but I stood by because I wanted to be with him so bad. So, when he mentioned a relationship, of course I finally did it, which also meant dropping another potential guy. Three months later, I'm unhappy. I don't listen to myself and try a couple more times to work with the relationship. The last time apparently did it. Things were nice for a while but he changed. He flipped it on me. I was wishy-washy, I know, but I was also unhappy and didn't know how to deal with it.

I was treated like the enemy. I was treated like I really did something wrong. Over the summer things got better, until a late night when he wanted to "get things off his chest." I almost let loose on him, but I decided not to. He's left me alone since then, and I'm happy, sometimes mad, but mostly happy. I don't endeavor to speak to him by any means, except to eventually get some stuff back from him. I realized, though, that in not getting things off my chest, in doing what I thought was respecting him, I was doing myself a disservice by holding onto those feelings. Now, I think I'm going to try to work through them.

I was tempted to contact him and let him know just how I felt, but I may not. The problem has presented itself, and I will deal with it. I don't know how things will work out from here, I'm just happier knowing something about myself.

This Monday Morning

Today, the world has shifted on its axis. Today, everything is not as it should. The world has something wrong with it, a kink in the system.

Today, I woke up and things didn't miraculously change. I didn't just make up my mind in regards to staying single or getting back together. Last time I did it on a whim and paid for it; this time I'm thinking it over. Today, one of my friends is hurting because another friend... And I've invariably taken her side again. Sometimes that's pretty easy when she's the one who's hurting.

Today, I may listen to the same song over and over because it's the only that really makes sense. Or, it's the only that I'm allowing to make sense.

Today, my emotions, which usually function to enhance and augment my writing, are hampering it. And, today, my room is also cold.

But these things can only last for so long. The world will soon buckle its belt and return its seat to the upright position; my friend won't hurt forever; my other friend... I may one day understand him; I won't keep listening to the same sorta-sad song; my emotions will even out; my university will FINALLY turn the heat on.

And Z? Well, he'll be okay, too, no matter what I do. And so will I. I'll be okay.

I'll be okay.

Who Says?

I'm listening to John Mayer's new single "Who Says." I think I'm going to stop studying for the night, download it, and listen to it in my bed through headphones. It just seems like a song that makes sense, and, in the man's own words, a song best listened to between 8p and 3a.

Who says... Well, right now, I don't know who says. I'll get back to you on that.

This Too Shall Pass

It's been a while... And it's weird how many posts begin with that statement.

Well, it didn't work out. I just hope it doesn't end up like last time...

I'm awake, can't fall asleep, can't cry.... I feel like I can't do much of anything. I know tomorrow and Saturday will be hard. People will ask "What happened?" or "Do you feel okay?" All those questions I don't want to hear and don't want to answer. I almost wish people knew about break-ups instinctively so you didn't have to divulge any details.

I guess it was a closing to another chapter in my life. I'm scared it's going to affect my grades and my work and applying for grad school. My thoughts are in a jumble now...

Just, it also feels like a new beginning. I can be single and have fun again. I can change the format of my blog, change the links, I don't know.

There is just one nagging feeling though... The feeling of failure. Now, I'm the roommate without a partner. I'm surrounded by people in long-term relationships (or, maybe those relationships are just more noticeable at this point). I wonder, what could I have done to prevent this? How long will this emptiness, heartache, or whatever you choose to call it last? When will I date again? When will HE date again? Can I still go to yoga?

I'm hoping this is goodnight, because I want to wake up and be productive. And flirt with the straight boy at work to make myself feel better.

Perez Hilton and Jesse Jackson: A Treatise

As you probably already know, I have a huge issue with how I'm "seen." Not in the sense of how others continually see me on a day to day basis (i.e. how I dress, carry myself, etc. though this is of much importance to me), but how I am represented in the media by people who belong to the communities I identify with. There is always, to some level, representation of the individual by certain individuals in the spotlight. In my case, and in the case of other African-Americans and gay men (specifically, though this very much does reflect other demographics), I don't think there is always positive representation.

We can say that certain people (namely, Perez Hilton and Jesse Jackson) don't represent us, but in fact they do. When people look at us, what do they see? They see what the media has represented of our certain cultures, demographics, ethnicity and so much more. This is colored by personal experience as well. But what if there is little to no personal experience to give form to how the media represents people? How do these people in the spotlight, whether celebrity or otherwise, affect how the world sees those that belong to the same demographic?

I don't like that Perez Hilton seems like a loud, extravagant, eccentric, and intrusive gossip monger. I don't like that Jesse Jackson seems to come out of the shadows to make some comment about how individuals should apologize to the black community if they do something he thinks is offensive. These two individuals, and others, speak out as though with a megaphone, talking for the rest of us when we don't need it. I hope that someone doesn't see Perez Hilton when they look at me and know or realize that I'm gay, and I also hope that people don't see me as someone who takes every opportunity imaginable to play the race card (except as a good punchline - forgive me for that one) with even the slightest appearance of discrimination. I want to be represented as MYSELF, but I can't stop the media, the machine that loves oh so much to perpetuate stereotypes, from inadvertently, or maybe not, typecasting me. This isn't just an issue for gays or african americans either. Do all republicans identify with Ann Coulter or Bill O'Reilly? Do all liberals identify with Bill Maher? Do all atheists and agnostics identify with Richard Dawkins? I highly doubt it, and these individuals, as well, may be upsetting those whom they inadvertently represent.

One day I will learn to live and let live and those two won't bother me, but it's hard to shake off the anger and frustration I feel at people like that always rising up and doing something counterproductive against the cause they seek to defend. Outing people should be done at those individuals' discretion, not someone who thinks it's necessary and that it will further gay rights. Not every white person who makes a black joke is racist, because black people say them, too (you know someone who's always made remarks about "that lazy negro).

This makes me think of how I am representing gay people, black people, men, humans, college aged individuals. Am I doing my part to make sure that stereotypes aren't being propagated? Is that my job, my obligation? There are many ways to look at this issue. I can't stop Jesse Jackson or Perez Hilton, and it would go against their rights for me to try. Sometimes I just wonder if they think about what they say and how it will affect people in their demographic. However, something like that can't always be predicted. Maybe these individuals do truly believe in the cause they're fighting for, but also maybe, just maybe, they are taking us more steps back than forward.

Random Things I've Thought About Today...

I am host to many random ideas and thoughts, and here's a list of some interesting ones from today:

If you were to travel back in time and take Jesus' place on the cross, what would your last words be?
If you died what would you wish for all of your friends?

For the first, I'm definitely voting "Autobots, transform and roll out!" and "I have the power!!!".

And for the second... Dunno, long list. I'd want G to dance for me everytime she heard "Don't Stop the Music", B to know that I felt like a major bitch for what went down in DC and I could've acted mature, my cousin to finally find someone he loves, for D to make a comic and publish with a major company, my baby sisters to read Catcher in the Rye when they could finally understand it, my brother to have a good life for himself, my little sister to grow up and become the beautiful woman I know she will be, my mother to be truly happy for eternity, and for Z... Well, I'd wish for him to find someone that will make him happier than I hope I make him (and will continue to make him, hopefully)

The Stigma

I am a gay black man. By now, you probably know this. Being black, I have my own issues to deal with. There is very little overt racism, but we deal with some forms of subconscious racism, though it is both hard to find concrete examples of that type of racism AND hard to sometimes realize that we live in a new day and age and must move beyond it (I will avoid the issues of affirmative action for another day).

As a GAY black man, though, I face another slew of issues. For so long, homosexuality has had a stigma attached to it, and this seems to be especially strong in the black community. Black culture seems to be surrounded by the church and by music these days. The church part teaches the shame and sin of being gay, and music shows its black male performers as hypermasculine, and anything less is treated with disappointment, anger, etc. You can see some of the trouble that black gay men face in the so-called "Down Low" culture, where black men choose to hide their sexuality from the rest of the world, sometimes even the women that they are with, but have sex with men on the "low."

I find it hard to explain to my father the exact pressures I feel in being gay and black, especially after he mentions the fact that his only son won't carry on the family genes. Men are taught now not to compromise masculinity for emotion. It's no big deal when women cry, but when men cry it somehow just must be a big deal. That coupled with the fact that gay men are often portrayed as overly feminine and added to what I could consider an internal dilemma for some black gay men makes for a toxic combination.

There are some gay men that I don't always like, approve of, etc. I have never found it attractive to be called girl, to wear makeup (except on Halloween, I'll admit), carry purses, wear heels, pearls, extravagant jewelry (funny that gay straight men do this, too...) and part of that comes from the stigma of being seen as that super gay man. I don't like being seen as a stereotype, though I know that's how some people look at me. So, to see gay black men doing the same, I about keel over in frustration. I'm proud to be a boy, though I have feminine tendencies, so I take offense that some boys would rather act like girls. I shouldn't; I should stop being so judgmental, but it takes a lot to get over that anger because I don't want my family to think I'M going to be like that because I'm gay. It's hard to describe without stepping on toes, but right now I'm not worried about that.

I read an article, or perused it because the author pissed me off, about MIAKA - Men Interested in Alpha Kappa Alpha. I was like HELL TO THE FUCKING NAW! I'm serious! It made me so mad. I felt like those men should worry about being men and not trying to emulate a sorority. The author was in the same boat, but the way she talked about those gay men and how we don't have proper role models and how our single mothers brought us up as feminine (I especially took offense here because my mother worked damn hard to raise three kids, thank you). I saw one part of her argument, but she treated her gay black brothers like heathens. No, I don't always approve of what black, gay, or black AND gay men do. But at the end of the day, we are kindred in those respects. I'm going to be pissed at some things, but I'm not going to stop them from doing a damn thing. One lesson I had to learn was that no matter what, you can't change others and you can't force them to do anything that won't make them happy.

When I see a black man with pearls, it makes me want to scream, but who am I to judge? I'm sure plenty of southern folk would rather not see a young black man working in Bath and Body works, but I love that job. I'd rather not see other gay black men in make up, wearing pink and green and pearls; I'd rather not see black men wearing chains and pants that hang off their ass, speaking in a mockery of standard English; I'd rather not see other gay men flailing about, talking loud. Yet, I'm also sure a lot of people would rather not see me do some of the things I do.
I want this stigma gone, but it will take so much time, and that hurts. I want to feel like there is an even representation of black men, gay or straight, in the media, which will also take much time and which also hurts.

One day things will change and, even if we get mad at the things others are doing in and with their lives, we won't care. I'm working on being that way myself. In the words of many, I'm just doing me and I'm fine to let anyone else do themselves (pardon the innuendo).

Everyone's A Little Bit Racist

It's true!

We don't even recognize the shifty we all give to black patrons in our stores (trust me, black people do this too), we don't always try to understand the Asian customer (not 'Oriental') who has a thick accent and can't speak clear, American English. To say that we are a nation that supports minorities and does not discriminate is neither wholly true nor a huge lie.

I have these same attitudes too but one thing I find funny is that I know everyone does it, we just can't always understand the language it's done in. Contrary to popular belief, this does make me feel better. I don't feel as guilty, but please do not confuse that with me thinking it's okay and I don't want to change.

Just because a biracial (not black) man is president and we don't have as many examples of overt racism is not cause for thinking we've made it. The media perpetuates forms of racism everyday, especially damned BET for reinforcing negative, enduring, and damaging stereotypes of black people everywhere which leads others on the globe to think of us this way and react to us in less than favorable ways (I do not like being addressed in 'ebonics' and let's not get on being called the n-word -- by anyone).

To recognize that we are racist in some ways is a huge step. Remember, admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. If we could just stop pretending we are colorblind then maybe we'd be more honest with each other. Ideally, this doesn't mean we will jut be more racist overtly, but that we will realize how we are wrong in doing so.

I am a major supporter of the song because it speaks volumes. Yes it's crude, but I'm not going to exert pretention by saying the song is wrong because it supports racism. We are presented with questions everyday that have no solution. This song presents the problem of subtle racism and puts it on the table, then leaves us to deal with it once the song is over. Instead of critiquing it, take a step back and see where you're wrong and endeavor to fix it.

In the meantime, I'm going to attempt to catch a taxi :)

Secret Invasion

If we lived in the Marvel universe on Eath-616, we would've been in trouble over the weekend. Why? Because Michael Jackson passed

We successfully diverted ourselves, we focused our attention on his death. He was an icon, 'The King of Pop', and that means a lot to Americans and the world. But, especially right now, we should be focused on the economy, on energy and health and the changing world. Still, we let an icon's death keep us from focusing on things that truly matter.

If we lived in the Marvel universe, the Skrulls, interstellar changelings, could have easily invaded without even trying. MJ's death should mean a lot to his family and friends. While he became a symbol of a lot of things, we still should not have let a celebrity's death keep us from focusing on important things. Somethig, anything could have happened while our guard was down. We beef up security, we change to oppressive foreign policies, yet we let the death of a famous musician distract us. I don't think people realize this, but we are in bad shape by more than the way of economics and health care. We focus so much on trivial things yet expect problems to be fixed.

Death, anyone's death, is tragic and I mourn the loss of any life, but by our mere existence we prove that life goes on, do we not? Then we should act like it. If John Mayer, my favorite artist, died tomorrow I would honestly grieve, but I would not let that distract me from what I should be doing.

Watch the skies.

Still Scared

There are many reasons we fear we may lose the love of those closest to us. Being gay does not help in quieting those concerns because we risk losing the love of those who birthed us, who physically created us.

Yesterday, I had a talk with my father about my being gay (via txt, which I find comical). We reached the same conclusion. I mentioned it was unfair to want me to change and he said it was unfair that his only son is gay. There are a lot of things that are unfair though. It is unfair for me to be forced to comply with certain standards, to have to male others happy by changing. It is unfair for my father's 'name' to not be truly passed on.

What I think a lot of parents may not understand is that we have a lot to lose too. We never forget that we may not have biological children or children at all. We know that being gay may disappoint your or hurt you. We also know you may turn us away.

But why ask us to change? Why try to make us make you happy knowing that we will be unhappy in the end?

Times are changing. One day, no one will have to have this discussion and it will be wonderful. My parents don't know my real beliefs, that I have doubts, that I think some parts of the bible are fundamentally wrong and we do ourselves a great disservice by seeing it as unerring. Maybe they should.

Friends

I always told myself that I'd never forsake my friends for a boyfriend.

Want to bet how that's gone thus far? I find it way too easy to give up friends for boyfriends. Not willingly, of course. Just, lately, the only person I've really wanted to be around is V (pseudonym of course, and he knows, just fyi :D). It doesn't help that I have NO MONEY and most of my friends are IN CONWAY. I could go to Barnes with the bestie and we could see free movies every now and then at the Rave, but I find myself at a loss for what to do with my friends now.

I'm trying to limit driving to Conway to only when I have to work, and I could do lunch there. It's not easy trying to spend as much time as possible with someone whom you're with and balancing old friendships, at least not to me. I hope they haven't felt like I've been doing them wrong, because I sure have felt that way. I'm going to find away. It's only June (technically).

So Much...

I still need to find an adequate blogging application for my phone, that way I can start blogging regardless of my internet's status (which is MIA; I'm using the maternal unit's... I mean mother's wireless as I do laundry).

A lot has happened. A lot. There's so much that I want to share with, well whoever reads this thing *cricket* But also some that I think I will withhold. How much of one should he share if he knows that others may be hurt hearing it? Judgment call, personal choice, things of the such.

That being said... A few things I've encountered, found, etc. over the past couple of months:

Biboli makes an excellent pizza crust
I can (still) cook
My rental house... Has its share of problems
I find it EXTREMELY hard to sleep without the tv on
Noel Murray has given me landmark comic stories to do "research" on for my thesis in Honors
Star Trek and Wolverine were amazing movies

And I'm forgetting the rest, but more to come. There are a lot of stories to share.

Grateful

I'm grateful:

That I was created from the same grains, fibers, cells as so much life on earth; that we are all connected; that we all came from the same source, be it Allah, God, Yahweh, the Big Bang; I'm grateful to have a job; I'm grateful to have the chance and opportunity to attend college, basically for free; I'm grateful to have a car that WORKS, even if I pay for it; I'm grateful for my friends and family who love me unconditionally; I'm grateful for an ex who is showing me respect and willing to listen, despite the fact that we are apart; I'm grateful for my mother and my parents who will always watch over me; I'm grateful for music and colors because they make the world that much beautiful and they exist EVERYWHERE; I'm grateful for life because it is a beautiful gift in and of itself.

I've had a pretty bad week, and it's showing very little sign of getting better. In the words of Kahlil Gibran, much of my pain is self-chosen, but man that doesn't make it any easier. I'm trying to stay positive now, and that is a journey in and of itself. This sucks, but I need to stay mindful of my blessings and what I have, where they came from. It's hard, it really is, but other people do suffer more than me and I'm trying to stay mindful of them, too, of their struggles, their pain.

I'm trying to keep my head up but it hasn't been easy. I'm going to be mindful of what I have, grateful that I have it, and considerate of those who may be worse off than me. This still hurts, though, and I need my scars to heal, too.

I used to think that because other people suffer, I should never complain. I can volunteer all over the world, but if I'm in pain, I'm still in pain. It's okay to work through my own problems, while still being mindful of the problems of others.

Right?

99 Problems

Okay, we need to address a few things.

First, I haven't been keeping up with the thankful thing. I got 10 days into it haha. I'm trying though, and I'm keeping a mental note of the things that have stuck out in my life lately. This Lent thing was never for me, anyway.

Since the start of 2009, I've had a few problems, some minor, others not so minor. Dealing with friend issues and lying, boyfriend issues, breakup issues, a declining chemistry grade, ex issues (this deserves a whole post altogether), hasn't been easy. Quite frankly, I'm tired. I need a boost. I'm pushing myself to finish this semester strong and not worry.

And, here I am now, blogging to you. I'm tired of deception and crazy people who aren't listening to me. A 17 year old FB-friend basically told me yesterday I was a fake friend because I don't call him and he's always the one that messages me. It's true. But at the same time, I have things going on, and that's all that needs to be said. I'm not going to stop my life to always make sure to stay in communication with an emotional 17 year old who calls me a fake friend. I don't call a lot of people, including my family. He pulled some of the same ish the ex has been pulling, so I just let him throw his tantrum and take me off FB (which is something I did [blocked] to the ex because I was tired of talking to him, am still tired of talking to him, which is why I'm not haha).

Life's too short for some of this shit, so I'm not going to put up with this shit anymore. I'm not going to put up with a failed effort on my part and I'm sure as hell not going to put up with someone else's bullshit, especially when I know that I haven't done anything wrong, save for the why I reacted to said craziness.

Time is of the essence.

Who Watches....

The Watchmen?

Day Ten:

I'm thankful for the Watchmen. It is a wonderful piece of art, in literature and visual art, on the outside, but within, the story holds so many intrigues into human life. It shows us ugly and beautiful, thoughtful and selfish. So much like 1984, it shows the lengths that we may go to achieve our own freedom and that, sometimes, our plans don't quite pan out.

To save the world, must we destroy some part of it? The plan was genius, but must we decide that human life is not precious enough to regard when trying to unite the rest of the world? Who has to die, or gets to die in some cases?

I'm left with a lot of questions after reading and watch Watchmen. I have doubts that we can even save the world. We have no heroes, or do we?

Who watches the Watchmen? No. Who watches the rest of the world? I think we need to find the answers to these questions before the world really does destroy itself.

No Power

I'm kinda mixing days here, but...

Day Nine:

As much as I desire to fly, not in an airplane but manipulate energy or something and just fly, sometimes not having superpowers is great. My greatest example is Alan Moore's Watchmen character Dr. Manhattan. He loved before he became a sort of god, he felt sadness and happiness. After he acquired his powers, though, he became out of touch. He didn't completely lose emotion, witnessed when he teleported a tv station full of people outside the actual station and when he left Earth for Mars after Laurie left him. He just became out of touch.

To be able to fly, lift cars, manipulate energy; these all sound great. Yet, with no one else around, it'd be hard to relate anymore. That's why there are superhero communities in the comics. Just like any demographic, they need to feel loved and be around people they can relate to. We glorify superpowers, but we forget that superheroes have issues, too. We forget that saving the world is a responsibility, and if you chose not to, using powers responsibly would become an issue.

I want to fly, but sometimes the dream is so much better than the reality.

Respect Yourself Damnit!

I'm of the general opinion that HELL TO THE NAW do you "advertise" on the internet. If you are that inclined to show off your assets, then go into porn, hell.

There is an individual on MySpace who added me a while ago, who is no long a friend on MySpace, and I was like "This is cool." Then I read his various display names, and bulletins, and somehow looked at some of his pictures. I wish I wasn't naturally drawn to that, not in a turns me on kind of way, but in a "really, is he really doing that shit" kind of way. His bulletins always talk about how he's a male diva or a bad bitch, his bulletins talk about all sorts of stuff, and his pictures... Well, I'm still kind of nauseous.

Let's get on me for a second. I had the inclination to look at what he was doing. The fact that I am now blogging about it doesn't bode well for my credibility or image. I chose to add him, to check out the various objects that I am opposed to. Glad we got that out the way.

Now, why? I have some pictures on FB from Halloween where I wore jeans, a vest, and a bowtie (I was poor!). I feign to add pictures of myself lacking any article of clothes besides shoes, though I appreciate and admire my own body. I've thought about it, but if someone really wants to see, they'll ask or try, and even still they may not get the chance. My goodies aren't advertisements. My goodies are my goodies, and I'm not always the one to share. Why blast all that stuff on the internet? I heard once, keep the man or woman in surprise. Don't put it all out there.

I have a lack of respect for people who do that. It's not attractive. It's actually counter productive. Who's going to comment on stuff like that? The people who are either so loose that they get it from everywhere, and not in an admirable way, or the people who are so desperate they'll clamour for any bit of skin they can see. Ever see someone who posts pictures like that and who responds? Their friends and skeezes. Please, please correct me if I'm wrong.

This definitely put things into perspective.

Like Sting, I'm Tantric

Day Eight:

Yoga. Blessing upon blessing upon blessing. Multi-layered thankfulness!!!

No, really, I love me some yoga. Why? It increases flexibility. People think you have to be flexible to do yoga, and that isn't true at all. You learn to be flexible in yoga. There are a lot of exercises that focus on stretching, and plenty of room for versatility if you're not at the point you want to be yet. You don't have to go all the way over with a forward bend, you go as far as you can. The more you do it, the more it works, same principle as stretching (Hell, it is stretching).

If you stay in certain positions longer, it can become an endurance workout. I go to yoga every week and sometimes I leave feeling like I had a real workout. The particular instructor I go to has a tendency to do positions that focus on core, a part of my body I am always interested in improving. If you know what to do, you can create an exercise regimen to match that with weights. And, you didn't hear this from me, but yoga provides some versatility in... You know, other areas of your life. Just saying :)

One of the most important benefits I get from yoga is a clear and destressed body and mind. The other night I went with a mildly upset stomach. I took some baking soda water or whatever about an hour or so before, and I'm sure that helped, too. But I've gone with heartburn, stuffed noses, what have you, and left feeling so much better. My circumstances were pretty mild, so keep that in mind, but, otherwise, it just may be worth your time. For sure, though, I feel little to no mental stress once I leave. I think that's the biggest reason I've kept going. I get such a peace of mind from doing yoga that I don't get anywhere or any other way in my life.

I definitely recommend trying a free class or even looking up poses yourself. Don't get to adventurous, though!

Another Chance

This and the next few posts are a few days too late, but...

Day Seven:

I've found that I'm thankful to know that I still got it.

You know in that sense that you know someone's checking you out and that you have another chance, another go, at something. Well, I was working with one of my friends on Tuesday and she gave someone her number, who promptly texted her. She's always had it, trust me. Me? A guy came in with two girls, obviously gay (not just 'cause the two girls), and I could definitely tell he was checking me out.

So? I still got it. I'm thankful to realize and understand this, finally. For such a long time, I didn't. The only thing I heard was, "You have a great smile," and I came to agree, gumminess and all. Now I hear a slew of things, some of which I completely ignore because they come from skeezes, but that's beside the point. A little bit of serendipity, if that's the right word: "I Love Your Smile" by Shanice just came on :)

So, I hope that you got it, because I'm sure you do fair readers *cricket*. Be happy that you got it, because whether you're on the fence on if you got it or not, you definitely know someone who, unfortunately, may not have it at all...

ABDC

So, the finale results are in, and...

Quest Crew took Season 3!

Now, I'm a bit disappointed. The Beat Freaks are AMAZING! I haven't watched a whole lot, but they rocked the house. I love watching this show!

Good luck to Quest Crew!

Beware!

Here, we have Red Bull. An energy drink. I've heard plenty of times how energy drinks are bad for you, they can cause higher risks of cardiovascular disease, brain tumors or what have you. What's missing in each of these cases?

Statistics.

I was going to be an educated and intelligent blogger and give you lots of information, but I'm too lazy for that and this is NOT a research paper. What I can tell you though is that, yes, there is a severe lack of statistics and conclusive data. Guarana does have some risks associated with it, but taurine and vitamin B don't have near as many, if at all. In fact, my research on taurine didn't really yield anything negative. I'm interested in finding out more information, but for the time being, I'm still on the Red Bull boat.

Sugar and caffeine seem to come under fire when people talk about the dangers, risks, etc. of energy drinks. Honestly, what doesn't have sugar? To say there are a lot of drinks on the market with a lot of sugar is an extreme understatement. And, to my knowledge, the FDA says that "68 mg per 12 oz. is acceptable." But I don't trust the FDA. For a lot of reasons. Yea, I know most 8-12 oz. energy drinks have more than 68 mg. Usually around 75 mg per serving. A Starbucks shot of espresso has 75 mg and the coffee, even a tall, has more than double, sometimes triple, that amount. Trust me, I know.

I'm coming to the conclusion that, no, energy drinks aren't that bad for you. I can't find a lot of data that emphasizes risks. I encourage you to do your own research, find out like I did. There's A LOT of information out there.

Socially Awkward Jackass

Believe it or not, those two are different. There are areas where they may come off as the same, such as someone who is socially awkward behaving like a jackass, but someone who's socially awkward and someone who's a jackass differ at key points.

First, let's take socially awkward, or its cousin, socially retarded. Someone who's socially awkward seems to lack the graces to be considered a universally good conversation partner. He may say things that don't make sense, he may not control his tone or how he says things to other people. Sometimes, I think I can classify as socially awkward. I'm not always funny and my mind seems to run a lot faster than other people's. I can easily make connections between subjects that I talk about, but not everyone sees those connections and I can quickly jump to another by the time someone figures out what I was talking about before. What I think sets me apart is the fact that I pick up on tone, body language, essentially reading people, to know what or how to say or do whatever. Someone who's socially retarded, though, lacks these graces completely and easily becomes "that one kid" that no one wants to talk to. Thing is, I don't think these people actually realize what could be considered their "awkwardness."

Take my lab partner last week for instance. He's a nice guy, but I did find it particularly angering that he opted to drop chemicals at one point because I "drop too slow." He also took the time to blame a certain, albeit minor, mishap on my part when I mentioned to him that "maybe we missed a step." Our professor wondered what was going on and my lab partner did not hesitate to say "Oh, well he forgot the step." Yea.

Now, a jackass knows he's a jackass. He does not feign kindness. He's brash, inconsiderate, and quick to temper. Take my best friend for instance. If I hated him, I'd call him a jackass. I love him to death, but he's still a jackass. Know what makes him different? He knows he's a jackass, but he's lovable, AND he knows when to hold punches, when and what to say. I know lots of jackasses that I can tolerate. Now, then and again you find the kind of jackass that you can't STAND being around. The one who doesn't seem to know he's a jackass, but in truth, he does. The one who never hesitates to make some sort of snide or smartass comment and who has the utmost capacity to get his ass kicked on a daily basis. He has some of the characteristics of your average socially awkward guy, but to a less cute, way more unbearable and "Meet me at 3 o'clock" way.

Not going to lie, I have a bit of jackass in me, too. I can be downright brutal, emphasis on the can, but I try not to. I joke around a lot, but I've started to draw the line. Yet, I kinda put this sort of behavior in the "bitch" category more than jackass (I rarely find that gay men are indeed assholes or jackasses versus just being bitches). More on that.

So, here is your lesson on those socially awkward individuals whom you can't help but just stare at in awe at their, well, awkwardness, and the jackasses whose heads you want to rattle with the closest blunt object.

Adieu.

Optimists and Pessimists

“An optimist laughs to forget, a pessimist forgets to laugh.”

Unknown

Day Six:
I'm grateful for laughter. There's something bright and positive that emanates from a laugh. When a baby laughs, it's full of joy. When adults laugh, it can be to forget sadness and grief. We need to laugh to really experience life. I don't know any other way personally. As I told my friends at work today, I'm happy that I'm so easily amused. Being able to laugh at so many things exponentially increases joy in someone's life. If I wasn't able to laugh at so much, I don't know where I'd be. I love being able to laugh, or even better, make other people laugh. Seeing a laugh and a smile on someone's face is beautiful, and being able to do that is so much more than rewarding.

I like being able to smile, to laugh at the little memories. I love being able to appreciate a good joke, or very good irony. Laughter is a wonderful gift, a treasure. Never forget to laugh.

“Laughter is the shock absorber that eases the blows of life”

Gratitude

"Thankful for relaxation, complication,
Hivination and irritation
Succlusion, confusion are my impurities
And securities
Cause I know it`s god just perfecting me
That`s why I today I take my life as it comes"

India.Arie - Gratitude

Day Five:
It had been quite the weekend. Except, not really. Saturday was spent loafing. Sunday was truly relaxing. I got up, looked up some yoga positions, actually did yoga positions, cleaned my car, did a floorset at B&BW (not the best part, but I got extra moolah), and came home to not do homework that I realize that I definitely should have.

Relaxation is beautiful. I reach my Zen, my almost-Nirvana, when I'm winding down. Sunday was a truly beautiful day. I was glad I got to spend it with myself, recollecting myself. Yes, I did have to give some slight therapy to friends, but I took that for what it was worth. Being grateful, remember? I was glad I got to help them.

Relaxation is a necessity in my life. I need me-time, time to wind down and put myself back together, reducing the fraying edges. I love the time spent in silence or with music or things I love.

"Relaxation means releasing all concern and tension and letting the natural order of life flow through one's being."
Donald Curtis

"Take rest;
a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop."
Ovid

Just some food for thought.

Where the Heart Is

Day Four: I'm thankful that I will always have some kind of home to return to. My family is there and I trust that it always will be. My mother, father, grandparents, cousins, they all love me unconditionally and I'm blessed because of it.

I was drinking with the straight boys Friday and I decided I wanted my own bed to sleep in. Luckily, my house is only about 10 minutes away from where we were partying. I got home to find someone in my "bed" (technically it's not mine), so I accosted my sister's since she was sleeping on the couch. It was nice, comfortable, and the alcohol was wearing off. I was home. I was protected. If I ever need to get away, I can just go home, even though I can't stay for long for fear of losing my sanity.

I have a home to return to, and that is one of the greatest gifts anyone could receive.

Get it Together

I don't think it's 'bad' per se that I'm not posting everyday, or on schedule rather. While today's gift is a little hazy, I'm more than certain about yesterday's.

Day Three:
I'm more than thankful for the fact that we begin each new day alive and with the chance to change things. As long as we are alive, we have a chance at a new beginning. This fact, this blessing, is so beautiful. There are times when I wake up when I really do want to start over, reformat or revamp as I like to say. Like recently...

No, it wasn't an easy decision to make. It's still not an easy decision to think about. I smoked a cigarette last night, my more debaucherous behavior while "partying" (pretty softcore, huh?), and it didn't feel good. In fact, that was the most sad I can remember being in a very long time. Thank God I was surrounded by my friends. I couldn't have stayed alone last night. I would've gone crazy. I had to leave, to do something.

I keep hoping that missing him is normal. I'm okay with the idea of making a mistake, but that does not mean that I still want to make a mistake. There were a lot of factors that played into this, and I'm pretty sure I've voiced all of them. Just, going from being used to having a warm and friendly body to wake up with to no one, is jarring. Leaving a party and having no one to go home to, is upsetting. Knowing that things, even if just for a little while, have changed is too much. I can only say sorry, you know? And we'll move on. Those glasses of chardonnay with close friends, those new gyms we join, and all those fuzzy feelings that return (kudos if you know what that's from), well, they'll heal us.

Somehow my iTunes has come through and played on my emotions. It does that sometimes. Perfect playlist for this situation.

I just want you to know more than anything that this is not easy for me. I still miss you. I kinda wish things could go back to where they were, but I'm not sure if that'd be good. I want us to wake up one day and laugh because this was so much better than we even could have thought before. I'm sorry if I hurt you after today, and I think that in some ways is inevitable, unfortunately. And I'm glad you called it a 'mild' breakup, haha, that gave me a little bit of hope that maybe I didn't hurt you as much as I thought I did. I hope you're happy(er) and that you will be happy, because you need and deserve it. I stand by what I said before: watch out for yourself and stay safe, Kid, and you know what I mean. Don't guard yourself to others. The people who matter and care will notice (I can still tell, bee tee dub, when you're hiding something).

And to emphasize our love for the awkward...

We still have A LOT of shit in each others rooms.

Here's a playlist for you:
Get It Together - India.Arie
More Than Anyone - Gavin DeGraw
The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore - James Morrison
Where Do Broken Hearts Go? - Whitney Houston
I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston
I Have Nothing - Whitney Houston
Lesson Learned - Alicia Keys
光 (Light) - Utada Hikaru
Sparks - Coldplay
It's Not Over - Daughtry
Girl - Destiny's Child
Barely Breathing - Duncan Sheik
This is the Thing - Fink
The Heart of the Matter - India.Arie
Say - John Mayer
In Your Atmosphere - John Mayer
Lentil - Sia
Fast Cars - Tracy Chapman
誰かの願いが叶うころ (When Someone's Wish Comes True) - Utada Hikaru

And...

Livin' on a Prayer - Bon Jovi

Heartbreaker

So, for Day 2:

I'm thankful for the fact that people recover from wounds, and that he's learned how to respect people, even if that means hurting them at first. Whoever said breaking up with people is easy was dead wrong. It's not easy at all, especially when the person you're breaking up with really does deserve the best, but you're not happy. When they treated you right, but you couldn't love them like they love you. To some people, this would be great. I can't lie to myself, or him, like that. One day, we'll recover. He'll stop hating me, we'll talk and be good friends.

It hurts, honestly, but to go back and repeat the same pattern is worthless, and I think we've both realized that.

The thought of being single again is a little exciting, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but the thought of repeating this situation is less than exhilarating. But, it was a new experience, and I learned. I just don't know where it fits in the pattern, because it's a new scheme. We'll see...

In the words of Alicia Keys
"Yes, I was burned but I call it a lesson learned
It's alright, it's alright, it's alright..."

Wherever you are right now, I really do hope you're okay.

Cheating

Well, I was suppose to report for duty for day one, but we can pretend this is it. For Lent, what I'm doing this year is giving up being ungrateful and thankless. One primary reason is that I want to enrich my life by emphasizing the positive. So, here's Day 1

Day 1:

My mother is a beautiful lady. Very beautiful. She's giving me love and support, including the type that I thought I'd never get from anyone once I came out. She's been there with me through a lot, and I'm glad that she's someone whom I can truly open up to and receive good advice from. I consider her one of the wisest people I know. For my mother, I give thanks.

Also thankful for:
The fact that I don't live in any worlds with superheroes because we'd not only have the threat of supervillains, but getting our cars smashed
The fact that I have a working car
The chance to wake up in the morning and do the things I love
Creativity

Bloom

Tulips are my favorite flower. They're beautiful and simple. No complex geometry.

I'm taking care of some that Q got me for Valentine's. I change their water every other day, but they're dying. They were closed when I got them, and I wasn't sure what would happen from there. Then, they bloomed, and I never understood the magic associated with life like that. They bloomed and opened up and reached out for something. They're still beautiful, but there's not much I can do to save them. I can keep changing the water, but the stems will still grow weaker, the petals will reach out too far. They'll wither at the leaves, then at the top of the petals, then altogether.

I don't want that to be the significance of our relationship. I don't want them to show how ephemeral all this is. It hurts and, for the while, we aren't together, but I don't want to see my relationship in the dying petals of a beautiful flower, my favorite flower.

I want us to come out of this unscathed, but I do need to be alone for a while.

A while.

That's My Purse!

I'm going to be honest. I don't fight. I can't fight. So if I get into it with another guy, hell yes I'm going to kick him in the nuts!

Let's be honest, if you're fighting, what is fighting fair going to get you? "Oh man, you got your ass stomped, but you fought with honor," or "You got the shit knocked out of you! But you did fight fair..." Like I said, I don't fight. If I get into a situation where I absolutely have to fight, I probably won't fight fair. I'll be remembered as the guy who kicked the other guy in the nuts.

There are some situations where I think honor lies above all, but in this situation, it doesn't. People don't always fight fair. If someone comes at me with a knife, I'm defending my life. A gun, well... If I can fight, I'll do what I can. There is such a thing as senseless fighting, but there are times when you'll actually have to defend yourself. No, getting a swift kick to the nuts wouldn't be pleasant, but getting beat up wouldn't be either.

I'm sorry guys, but I'm a talker and a lover, not a fighter. If it comes down to defending myself, I'm going to do what I can.

Starting Over

Classes are about to officially resume, for me anyway. I'm excited. I'm going to go strong and finish even stronger than I did last semester (one B, but I can do better).

I was perusing a blog, 37 Things to be exact, and I came across a post that mentioned the three words for a new year. I hadn't even thought of that. As I wondered what mine would be, I came to one almost instantly: Swagger. This year, I'm going to exercise my swagger and show everyone just what I've got. I'm going to exude confidence, attraction, and positive well-being. I'll show everyone that I got that mad swagga (so good, I don't even need to be grammatically correct).

My second word, which I found not too soon after, is Fresh. I want to smell fresh, look fresh (ignore the not shaving every now and then), and act fresh. Keep a clean (so to speak) and easy mind. I want to be the embodiment of the colors green and blue: green for fresh fauna, inexperience and youth with the chance and possibility of growth, blue for fluid water, going where God and the world take me, keeping cool and staying calm.

My last word is balance, and this is key. I want to keep balance between the Boo and the friends, keeping my time with everyone I love. Balancing my schedule with love for my family, staying in contact and never letting them forget that I love them. Balance between how I see myself and what I'm showing the world; I can't get too cocky now.

2009 is going to be a good year, and I'm going to keep these words in mind. What are your three?

Gay Elite

Ever since I came of age, I've noticed something about the gay community. As with any social demographic there exists the "elite." Around here, the gay elite is comprised of white males. I'm not usually the first to point out discrimination in anything, but in this situation it's kind of weird. You see pictures from parties or the club and it's the same over tan, pretty, made up white males (with a few exceptions: namely, a couple of unattractive people do make it into the mix, or you have your token asian or black man).

No, I would not consider myself part of a gay elite. In fact, I don't think I'd be happy if I was. The thing here, though, is that the word elite is applied from the outside, as I'm doing now. They may or may not consider themselves elite, but I choose that word because it seems like this exclusive club, a membership I had once wanted but had the good sense to never look after.

I just don't understand it. Is this an issue of race? Black gay boys seem to separate themselves, too, and gay men naturally seem to deny membership, sometimes without even trying, into various social contexts. Maybe it's birds of a feather; like minds and such. I just honestly do not know. I just know that a) it's unsettling and b) I see it everywhere.

I may consider myself attractive but I'm not elite and never will be. I don't belong on a pedestal above anyone else. So, I guess I'm not going to do the same to the pretty white boys with an exclusive membership into some arbitrary idea that has no relevance whatsoever.

They're not elite. They're just pretty, white, and gay. I guess that's it.

This Just In!

So, in the spirit of using the internet waaaay too much, I decided to find instances or examples of people who love dancing in their cars and I found this link:

http://www.37days.typepad.com/37days/2005/05/dance_in_your_c.html

It made so much sense. The author talked about her experience watching a mother and child dance in their car, about how much freedom and joy the woman exhibited. She went on to mention that sometimes when we judge, we open ourselves to judgment. Once we let go of the snide remarks and the negativity, we become free because that judgment matters not.

So, 37 days. I'm going to free myself from my undeserved and unfair judgment of others, thus enabling my own freedom. I'm going to dance in my car and not give a damn what Harry, Bobby, or Sue are wearing or doing.

37 days...

I've Been Waiting All Night...

"To see you dance like me"

I love to dance. A lot. Just not always in front of people. In a club, though usually with someone else, I can get down. And most of the time, I'm dancing in my car.

So, today, after I got off work, in Little Rock, so it would take me about half an hour to get home, I was getting DOWN. Like seriously, singing at the top of my lungs and busting some moves. Speaking of busted, I got caught, twice. Once by some girls whose attention I attracted on the highway and the latter when I got back and was in the parking lot. The second time, I was like "What the hell :)" and just waved, which prompted a confused and "What the hell o.O" look from one of the passengers. That being said, I really didn't care. Just in that mood.

I'm glad that happened because I needed desperately for something to blog about, and I found it.