../9807/%5Boasis%5D
../9807/%5Bcolumns%5D


David

February 1999

"You're a...what's it called...a...you don't believe in God, David?"

I think: "Atheist." Really, it's not that hard a word to remember.

I say: "An atheist? Yeah, you didn't know that?"

"How can you not believe in God?"

I think: What about this is so fucking hard to understand?

I say: "Why do you believe in God?"

"Man, you've got to believe in what the Bible says."

I think: And why the hell would I do that?

I say: "Not really."

"Well, you know, I still want to be your friend and all, and I don't want to offend you, but..."

I think: Don't worry, you already have...

I say: "Yeah?"

"I gotta tell you, you're goin' to hell, man. Because if I'm your friend and I don't tell you then it's my fault. But, you know, we can still be friends. And it won't be my fault that you're going to hell."

Hehehehe, that is so funny. If only he knew just how hell-bound I am.

I cross-dressed at school today (again), except this time for school spirit day (Wacky Day). I really like the clothes too--especially the flowery skirt. But those high heels...ugh...I'm never wearing them again. I don't have trouble walking in them, but they cut into my feet. Ouch. And since I was wearing a wig, I actually had to worry about my hair blowing in the wind for the first time in, um, must be more than 10 years (I'm biracial, black/white...my hair doesn't move for anyone or anything).

I have never seen so many people gathered outside of my classes...to see me. And this one girl actually did not want to sit down in Spanish because she sits next to me. She just stood there looking at me--and, alternately, her chair--when she thought I wouldn't notice and going "Eeeww, I don't want to sit there!" (Perhaps she was jealous because I looked better in the dress than she would have.) People are so wierd...but I was pretty happy, a couple of my friends did not recognize me at first--and the people who did not know me had to be told I was a boy dressing as a girl. At which point they said "Oh, that is so disgusting." Less boys called "faggot" this time. Everyone wanted to know if I was wearing a bra though. Hmmmm...

Well, I was going to write about this guy *sigh*. Ya know...cute and perfect in every way (ok, not quite) and openly bisexual. I was basically about to tell him my queer little secret, but it turns out he's really homophobic. A bi guy who says he would cross-dress every day if it was allowed: "That guy is so gay, stay away from him. I mean, not that I have a problem with gay people, as long as the stay out of my way." And I understand that this is his own internalized homophobia, etc, but...how sad. He's ok because he is at least sometimes attracted to members of the opposite sex. Right. But what's so frustrating about what he says and what so many other people say is that they can not be convinced that they are homophobic, that saying "Well there's nothing wrong with gay people as long as they don't hit on me" is, in fact, offensive. No one wants to be called a homophobe anymore, and few people (at least who I know) will say that homo/bisexuality is wrong, but they still have no problem with saying "That is so gay" or "You're not turning gay on us, are you, David?"

By the time you read this, a wonderful thing will have happened. Not really, but I will have turned 15. And the thing is, I don't really care. I don't care about my birthday, it seems to be just another reminder that time keeps passing and things aren't getting better. Oh well. I'll get over it. [HINT: You know, you *could* wish me happy birthday. Only if you want to, yaknow...]

I'm tired so I'm gonna end this...thanks to everyone who's written, you're all WONDERFUL...keep on writing!

And if you haven't written to me, why not?! Email me at Osiris999@aol.com or ICQ me, #2574001 (though I'm not on ICQ a lot).

David, 15, lives in West Texas--yuck! But this summer he will be moving....so all you Central Illinoisans out there, write to him!


../9807/%5BAbout%20the%20Author%5D
©1998-1999 Oasis Magazine. All Rights Reserved.