*A story I wrote inspired by the song "Superman" by Five For Fighting.*
The football field is completely deserted at 6:30 on Sunday evening. The washboard sky is stained a buttery amber and I'm sprawled on the hood of my station wagon, waiting for my best friend, Ryder.
The late November night smokes a pack of
Hershey cigarettes and it's as if nobody
understands how those toxic jokes
make me feel trapped in
this claustrophobic place.
So I have no choice but to
go home and pick up my boxing gloves,
preparing myself for another round of bullying.
You may call me proud but don't exaggerate.
I've been pushed around and
shoved into dumpsters long enough
to know that discrete strength is
the key to survival.
It's about teachers turning a blind eye
and death threats in the cafeteria.
Baby, it's about roller coaster feelings
I love international tournaments. I'm back from Australs 2010. The five star hotels, the suits, the lavish dinners, the pretentious functions, the interesting people I met, the drunk hookups, the self-conceited arrogance of me and many others. We were spoilt, and every connection seemed simple yet consequential. We were absolutely wonderful.
There were over 450 people. Every sort of person was there, so I thought there's got to be a few gays around.
I need to fucking fall in love.
Why is it so fucking hard.
I can't even feel that feeling anymore. It's all physical. Or about my ego. It's about competition, image, pleasure. Whatever.
I just want to fall completely ridiculously openly desperately in love with someone perfect.
But none of them are perfect. They're just stupid or clingy or boring or pathetic or useless or bitchy.
I had a dream last night. It's weird I can't describe it. But I hugged some imaginary boy I didn't know and cried. It felt real. I know dreams don't mean shit, but it reminded me when I wasn't single.
Cutest boy ever says "if i was single I would fully be into you x - Tristan"
Man I love him. If only he was single, we were dancing together for so long. I talked to him at the bar and being the dorky me I spilt my drink while moving to him. He just smiled. He's blonde with brown eyes. We had a good chat. I don't know what he sees in me, but it doesn't matter because he's taken anyway.
hey like is there any gays in georgia that would like to talk to me
I'm gay... i just realized this.
except i have a girlfriend. and i don't wanna tell her that the reason i wanna break up is because i'm gay.
even if i made up a reason, if she saw me or heard. about me going out with a guy, she'd like kill herself... because nowadays, at least at my school, it's social suicide to date a gay guy before he comes out. and to make matters worse, i've already met her parents and i have a crush on her gay best friend (he's literally the cutest boy i've ever seen, other than ones on TV).
what do i do?
(previous username: wantstobeout (if you really to know(just sayin(okay this is way too many parantheses(oh well))))
Okay so new user name is much better than my old one. My old one had a negative connotation to it that evoked being closeted which is not a concept that the gay community is usually pleased with.
I hope you all had a nice day. I had a very nice day. I got to talk to K and V who are in the Women's Educational Center. I also talked to M who is the head of that center. She is very nice and understanding which is very helpful to me at this time.
Well I should have saved because I just tried to write an introduction and clicked on the wrong thing so it erased EVERTHING. Sweet. NEW BLOGGER TIME!!!
It’s late so I’ll try to make it simple, despite my thinking tendencies.
I’m obviously attracted to one of my guy friends but I know for a fact that he’s not attracted to me. I’ve found this out through several obvious methods that involve communication not only with him, but others.
I've been hiding for nearly four weeks, I quit that school. The dynamic of a highschool is just too retarded.
Seriously, who cares what brand of pants you're wearing? Clubs don't exist like that in the real world.
Why did I even think to do it?
I've been listening to a millieu of music from various musicals of late. Mostly Gypsy and Les Miz. It entertains me, and Ethel Merman seems to counteract depression.
Hmm, maybe this'll be the name OF my future novel. Anyway, boy who is oh-so-attractive, not muscular per say, but nicely built and has brown hair and awesome brown eyes who was connecting with me from a previous entry... seems reeeeeally straight :(
By Jeff Walsh
There exists a subset of movies that tries to make you think there is a good movie happening at a level that you don't understand. There is vague symbolism, knowing glances between characters, shifts in shooting style, all a clear tip-off to people who "get it." The subset keeps you quiet for fear of dismissing a movie that seems dull and contrived on its face, but where you risk being exposed as a cinema fraud if you say the emperor isn't wearing any clothes.
On the high-end, I've felt this way about critics' darlings like "Syriana" and "Half Nelson," and on the low end, part of me thought there certainly had to be more going on in "Garcon Stupide," a French movie by Lionel Baier. The movie centers on its young protagonist, Loic, who meets guys online and has sex with them. He doesn't want to know their stories; it isn't intimacy, just sex. He lives with a girl who lets him crash for free, and listens to his vague plans to better himself.
MY GOD! The last week has been one hell of a roller coaster ride...So my gf and I broke up and then I went out with a boy and then we broke up and then my gf and I got back together and the boy and I broke up and then my gf and I broke up and then the boy and I went out again and then my gf and I got back together. 7 cool points to anybody who can follow that. So who am I dating now?
I have straight girls for friends who know I'm gay. They know it, accept it and even enjoy the queer humor that comes with it. Yet they still turn to me for advice on guys. WTF? Is that just aprt of being a friend or do they actually believe the title of "The all knowing, all seeing, always right: Amy"?
I suppose alot of you never knew me, and the ones who do, probably aren't here, or don't remember me.
But I needed to come back, to a familiar place, a place that cared. To blog, since the place I had been blogging on, is not safe for such times. Not safe for people to read. For people I've hurt, for people who have hurt me.