Angels crying we are on this white ground
We don’t know what’s our purpose down here
We’re all lost but I know we’ll be found now
There’s no need to give in in our fear
All our bones have been crashed like a tombstone
All our voices escaped from this hell
It’s all right cause their charon’s alone
And I’m waiting to see why we fell
God, I’m so angry…
I’m angry at my parents because they should have known better. Because they should have raised me well. Because for all these years, my brother has been their son and I have only been their son’s brother. For God’s sake, he was 20 when I was 13! I needed them more than he did! But still, they were always focused on him. They still are and he’s 25 now.
I’m angry at my brother because, for some reason, he makes me feel so inferior… Because he’s prettier, straighter, happier than I’ll ever be. He may not have as many dreams as I do, but at least he lives his.
OK, so what’s new with my life?
Yesterday, for the first time in more than a week (yey!), I didn’t dream of George. Instead, I dreamt of a girl I know, Faith, asking me out. And after thinking about it a bit, I said yes, thinking “Yeah, it’s a she. So what? You like both, Billy. Don’t be confused
I was walking my way to the gym, thinking about how I’ve known very few guys that I would actually date besides George, when I saw a poster for a book display (?) that had a date on it… George’s birthday. I didn’t think of it as important, of course, just a coincidence. But it did make me think of him. I came to realise that, come the day, I could only date *him*, not any other guy, kinda like Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain.
I can’t breathe.
I’m not being metaphoric, I’m serious. I really can’t breathe. I got asthma and this fucking weather doesn’t really help at all. It’s so damn hot (the bad way) and I can’t really do anything about it. Air-condition doesn’t cut it too, the air is too fake to help most of the time.
At first, you feel like there’s not enough air for you. Which is ridiculous because you know the world is full of air, but you still feel it. You gasp for breath but you can’t. There’s something blocking it, something that stops it from filling you with life.
OK, so I've been out of the closet for 5 days for my best friend. And I'm kinda dealing. That's not the point. The point is, ever since I finally did it, I've been having these dreams...
My high-school and lyceum and University crush has been George. I've fallen for him twice and both times I tried to do something about it but, after I managed nothing, I pushed myself to get over him. And I have.
OMG, I did it.
I came out to my best friend.
Ok, so it went kinda like this… She’s leaving on Monday for her vacation, so we went out to have a good-bye night. We started with coffee. Once we sat there, I kinda led the conversation to gay people and movies and asked her opinion about it. So, once she told me (once again) she could never have a problem with someone for something they didn’t choose and can’t change, I changed the subject, trying to not make her suspect anything, as I was still not sure if I would go through with it.
The last couple of days (since I signed in this site, actually) have been weird for me. I’ve started to realise that I am what I am and I cannot change. And it’s mixed up: a little dash of serenity, a spot of freedom, a slice of security, but also a big wodge of fear.
I’ve been thinking about coming out to my best friend. I mean, she’s always so understanding about everything, so sweet and sincere, she’s more than a decent human being, she’s an angel. So I don’t think I can keep on lying to her, I can’t do this to her anymore. But I also don’t want her to change. I don’t want her to ask questions that I can’t answer like, say, “Will you ever get married, and if you do, will you cheat on your wife with other men?
His name is George. He’s only a few months older than me. We used to be in the same class when we were high school students. Now we’re not and I rarely see him, though we live in the same town. We’re not friends so I guess that’s expected. And I don’t think of him quite often. It’s just, sometimes, when my mind is covered with dust from the past and I can’t unlock myself from my thoughts, I go back to high school and relive those days when I was in love with him.
I always expected to change
the secret that burns me within
I guess growing up has taught me
That that's not the way things will be
I always believed I was special
But isn't that what we all do?
You say what I am is perverted
I say that I'm just not like you