I'm heading home for winter break in about an hour. I'm dropping off my friends at the train station, then making the two-hour drive back home. It'll be nice to be home again. I'll have a week to relax, then I'll start working at my old job all through December. I need money. I've been a little excessive with my spending these past three months, and my checking account has suffered. At least I've learned my lesson.
Beautiful things are good, ugly things are not. I know this. This is my creed.
The problem with this is that I am so terrifically ugly, within and without.
Liar, sadist, abuser, freak. Other names that I don't dare speak for fear of who might see.
Worthless. Cannot create anything beautiful. Never will.
Ugly is wrong. By its very nature, ugliness is intrinsically bad. I am so terribly ugly.
I should not exist.
The vestige now but once built in a time that was prosperous. We still see many old houses that lay around, the ones unihabited seemingly depressed. Say for example the house that's en route to my college. It sits, boarded up, decrepit and sags on a failing foundation nearly a century old, yet it remains.
Have you ever wondered what life would be like without us? The ones that are LGBTQ, the ones that stand out,the ones that people pick on,on a daily basis. Ya you have, WE ALL HAVE! Without us the LGBTQ groups we wouldn't even be abke to be ourselves. we would have to stay inside not near anyone and stay in "the closet" as they call out. IF YOUR OUT AND PROUD SAY IT DON'T HIDE IT!
My partner told me to post a thing here. It's been a while and I've been lurking, so here's a speech I did.
Last year at this event, I read a speech about names. Trans* spoken word poet Miles Walser writes in a poem called Nebraska about the murder of Brandon Teena that “They don’t remember our names until they read them on our tombstones.
"When Virginia state high school tennis champ Michael Drougas decided to come out to his Salem High School on Twitter two weeks ago, he was nervous. He and Salem High reside in conservative western Virginia. He figured there was a pretty good chance the reaction wouldn't be so great."
Here's his very inspiring story in Outsports:
I had an alternate version of the dream from #9. This time, instead of being friends with this guy, I met him and he was a complete asshole and I pretty much wanted to kill him, he was that mean. I can't remember any specifics, but now whenever I look at him I simultaneously get angry and sad because of how mean he was to me in that dream.
I think the dream might have been a misplaced personality of someone I really hate who everyone else I know loves for some reason. That person thankfully wasn't at school today, which made the day much more enjoyable.
A point where I almost saw a blur between friendship and something more.
Ugh, wish I had more time to write. :-\
So I was watching a movie to-day (specifically it was a pornograpic movie because why the fuck not) and I started wondering about why the things that are are the things that are, yea?
Jack Andraka… his earned accolades abound! If unaware, do a Google. Even the pope is impressed:
* inspired by the character, Thomas, in Downton Abbey.
There are no ghosts in
your winter-clothed heart
but real monsters claw at
the fleshy, pink walls,
screaming insults that
reach your ears
all the way from inside.
your mind is a damaged
ten years ago,
some mean private schoolboys
threw a stone
through the rainbow-lace glass.
And maybe your lips are bruised
who never bothered staying
leaving you alone to burn
your fingers against
a vanilla candle flame.
Thomas, your green
eyes were blinded
*inspired by this quote: "Love exists in powder. Love exists in pills. We are all addicts."- Pete Wentz, Gray
I used to fall asleep to the crunching
sound of riots in the alleys
outside my window
when I was a child.
But boy, you never had that luxury.
While I was always
searching for secret passageways
and trap doors under floorboards
and between sweaty cobblestones,
you never even tried to touch
the delicate shadows up in
the attic back home.
But there's something about
your perfectly tailored self
that still gets under my skin,
making me want to find all
Today's date is so fun to write.
I think I'll start with smaller stuff and get to the meat of this journal later (P.S: the meat involves relationship-esque things). Ummm I fucking love college, in case that wasn't abundantly clear already. I've learned more in one term of college than I have in one year of high school, and that's really not an exaggeration. I mean, it really isn't even worth it to compare high school and college. To do so would be like comparing Stephanie Meyer and Shakespeare.
I was in a bad mood on Friday at lunch so I expored behind the football field, in the practice area. That place always inspires me. It's even better when alone and while listening to Oneohtrix Point Never's ambient music. I took plenty of photos but they don't inspire nearly as much as actually being there. It's surprising how beautiful the area behind such a dull and uninspiring place can be.
Schools always seem like such a strange community to me, especially such a gigantic high school that I am forced into.
Anyway, hanging outside alone during lunch is the best thing ever.