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Marc

August 1999

"I am..."

Just for starters, I stand at a towering five feet five inches tall weighing in at a whopping one-hundred and twenty-one pounds. I'm a brown-haired, blue-eyed white boy and to top it all off...so I might as well open up and throw the biggest can of worms at this whole thing...I am a bisexual teenager.

OK...I understand that you don't like me for being different than you but hey, our Constitution entitles you to have that right to decide whether you like me or not!

After all, the last time I checked, it's still a free country isn't it?

Anyway, I wasn't put on this Earth to please you, so you probably know exactly where I'm going to tell you to shove your repulsive face right? Because I'm certainly entitled to! Shove it someplace where the sun don't shine...and don't you just love freedom?

And please get over yourself! I'd hate to break this down to you but the person that you see when you look in the mirror is an idiot! Who do you think is actually sitting in their bedroom dwelling on their loneliness and misery waiting for you -- perhaps the biggest fool I ever had the pleasure of meeting -- to come along and provide them the salvation from their totally useless and incomplete life?

Certainly not me!!!

There is a simple point that I am trying to convey here, and that is my healthy attitude of not liking you any more than you like me, usually because of something so trivial.

So leave me be!!!

I have my treasured friends anyway, friends that have similar hobbies and outside interests as myself. Interests that you might find "gay" (or whatever word you might choose) because we are not as smart or as athletic as you are. And I'm not even going to attempt to explain why we like a particular type of music or style of clothing because that one-tracked organ that sits directly behind your clouded eyes obviously lacks the ability to comprehend any of my explanations. Besides, you made it perfectly clear that the music I listen to and the way I dress is pathetic and irritating, and best-suited for people that have escaped from a maximum-security prison or a mental institution anyway. Guess what?..I don't care!!! Oh, by the way, I love how I could relate to this music that you describe as "garbage" and I even like the way I dress however "out-of-this-world" it may seem to you. It's comfortable. Even though my friends' tastes in music and clothing somewhat vary from person to person in our tight-knit group, it defines our individuality, it's what makes each and every one of us unique in our own special way.

I once had this twisted perception that I was alone in this world. Being the only boy having these mixed emotions and unexplained feelings from the perverted thoughts that were running around in my confused head. Struggling to find my identity, I set out on a desperate and sometimes futile search for acceptance and love from other people that might possibly share something in common with me, but I found nothing but unimaginable pain along the way and bitter anguish in the end.

But now, things have changed. I have finally found a sense of belonging amongst my friends. We are still considered outcasts by our more "popular" peers for whatever reason they have but we also have a matching hatred for them. Take the notoriously obnoxious preps for instance -- highly arrogant, corrupted, well-dressed intellectuals that love to hear the sound of their own annoying voice while justifying their pitiful existence to the poor, nearby soul that just might care enough to listen. And don't even get me started about those damn jocks...you already know how dumb they are right? How about those hideous, animal sacrificing freaks? The reckless skaters/bladers? The coke-bottle-glasses-wearing geeks and nerds? The stoners? Who else did I forget to mention here? I believe you should have some sort of an idea who because you know exactly who they are. Do you even remember them?...Allow me to refresh your memory.

They are the lowly bunch of retards that were the butt of all your friends' cheesy jokes!!!

I highly doubt if you'll remember us at all anyway.

The ones you deemed unworthy of breathing the same polluted air as you did. Less walk on the same sacred, dog-shit dotted ground.

And do you remember me? I'll even give you a few hints. I was:

Now do you remember?!?!?

Perhaps you don't and I forgive you. It wasn't your fault that you missed class the day the teacher decided to distribute this wonderful thing called a brain. Or maybe you were just simply unaware of the emotional distress you have caused me to suffer over the years of trying to make yourself look good in front of your equally pathetic friends. It's very easy to overlook such things while you're basking in the glory of your senseless power trip you know.

I'll tell you what I remember, I remember losing the confidence I had in just about every aspect of my life that once "simple" tasks such as writing a book report turned into a huge, intimidating project. What's the sense of doing well in school anyway? I'm still the same loser you made me out to be no matter how high my scores were. My self-esteem bottomed out to an all-time low that the thought of hanging myself sounded more appealing than enduring yet another day's worth of abuse from you and your immature friends.

Do you remember how I just wanted you to leave me alone.... because I was different from you?

Because I honestly believed that I had more problems than I could possibly handle and you sure as hell didn't make my struggles any easier.

You say welcome to the torturous realm known as adolescence...BOO-F-IN-HOO!!!

Anyway, I thank you very much, Mr./Ms. I-should-have-a-statue-of-myself-cause-I'm-a-god/goddess, for taking the time to listen to what I have to say even though you probably still have no idea what I just said to you. Turn around and you just might catch it but you will remember me for something sooner or later, you ignorant bastard!

Perhaps you will hear about me from your best friend -- without a doubt in my mind the biggest bitch that this planet has ever known -- about how I swallowed two whole bottle's worth of sleeping pills in an attempt to bring an end to my long, undeserved suffering.

Or you just might read about me on the newspaper about how I was beaten severely because I was weak and different. Beaten with the butt end of a pistol by complete strangers that I thought I could share my most intimate secrets with. You might even read about the details of how they tied me up to a fence-post like a scarecrow, bloodied and left to die overnight beside an isolated roadway in sub-freezing temperatures.

Better yet, you just might find your over-sized ass settled comfortably in your tortured recliner flipping through the channels of your TV while stuffing your mouth with your favorite, fat-loaded dessert. Then realize that the face on the TV screen is me and learn about how I was saving no tricks and leaving nothing in the bag -- absolutely nothing at all and going out with a bang. You might even find yourself with your hands covering your mouth as you watch and listen to the anchorman/woman in utter disbelief at the horror I am unleashing before your very eyes. I would bet that you actually didn't think that I was capable of doing such horrible things now did you? Would you then admire how creatively I expressed my anger and frustrations by detonating a few pipe bombs and squeezing the triggers of several semi-automatic assault rifles and sawed-off shotguns, sending bullets of rage screaming out the barrel and in the process, taking the "innocent" lives of my fellow classmates?

Then maybe you will remember who I am...then maybe you wont.

But remember this.

I never once, ever, thought of myself as being better than you...just because of the simple fact that I'm different.

I'm just trying to be myself.

The one trying to have a "normal" life as possible under the already difficult circumstances in this absolutely screwed-up society we all have come to know all too well.

I'm just me...

I am...

Marc

***

Marc, (Black-Biscuit-56@excite.com) nicknamed "Biscuit" by his father, is a 14-year-old bisexual boy that loves to spend time with his friends and play the sport he absolutely loves and excels at. He lives in a quiet suburb on the outskirts of a small city shadowed by the majestic peaks of the Rocky Mountains in the state of Colorado.


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