Quick update...
So, last night, I had probably two of the weirdest dreams, ever. They tend to always be a little absurd and a bit terrifying when I'm sick... *cough* so that's my only explanation for them.
The first is so uncharacteristically strange that I don't want to write about it in detail. It was creepy and sexual and involves people I never really see or talk to... It was messy and realistic and my biggest worry the whole time was getting to work on time. Dream-me is super pervy and total creeper.
The latter involved me getting into a super badass knife-fight. There was this guy in my room, and we were like KACHING! CHING! CLANG! ...all kinds of steel-y-like onomatopoeia. And then CLUNK! got him right in his sternum!! It was thick, and I'm pretty sure we were fighting with butter knives, as opposed to something more ninja-esque, so that didn't help. But the guy admitted defeat. In fact, this was the 2nd time I'd fought him, bested him, and killed him (the dream did not explain why he'd been reborn). Brandon goes and brings me back a much sharper chef's knife or something (figures) and the guy closes his eyes and lets me go for his heart. The dream ends with me wondering if we should just wait and let the cops come and collect the body, but I figure that wouldn't be such a wise decision. Instead, I decide we should bury him, but I realize that's exactly what we did to his previous body.
Now, because my dreams tend to be so vivid and detailed, I never ever know when I'm dreaming, until I wake up. However, I didn't notice the wake-up this time around. I hear the hubs rummaging around in the living room, and I think, "I'll have to ask him to help me bury the body, again. It'll be weird having two of the same body in the same place. ..............wait...when did he have time to bury a first body and I didn't notice? ...oooooooh, I was dreaming."
Too bad, I thought I was pretty amazing in that knife-fight.
It's probably for the best that I don't remember these things, as is usually the case. Now I have to go analyze all of this nonsense and wonder why I'm such an awesome perverted-ninja-bastard.
At least my dreams don't revolve around work and politics, like the hubs'. It's hilarious when he wakes up and I say good morning, and he responds with something like, "It wasn't good enough, we'll have to keep practicing," or "It's not going to work that way...Their strategy's going to have to change if they want to win."
"What are you talking about??"
"Nothing, shut up! >_<." Heh, the awesome oaf.
!!!!Sidenote, I decided to wait until the year anniversary of buying our house together before I posted a before-and-after of all we've done (and not done, tee hee) with it. So this December!! MEGA-UPDATE! **cue explosion sound effects**!!!!
8.27.2012
"If you can't say something nice..." / Why You Should've Cared
For the most part, I tried (really really hard) not to post anything personal about that entire chicken debacle, save for a few minor discussions with some friends. However, I read a comment a couple of days ago that finally shattered the camel's back... and I needed to write and hope that people listen.
i think gay people should be shot.
To many, that was just another bigoted and hateful thing to say... and some people will go on, blissfully unaware of the gravitas of such comments.
You see, sometimes, when people say horribly inane, bigoted, and hateful things... people listen. People hear things like that, and sometimes, whether things are said in jest or not, they're taken seriously. In fact, it doesn't even matter if the things said weren't threatening or murder-related... all it takes is a personal opinion or point of view that expresses highly polarizing sentiment for people to react.
I want some of you to close your eyes and imagine a line of cars, curling around a building and down a road. Now, I want you to imagine hundreds, maybe thousands, of similar images, at one time, in the same way that one might stare into a swarm of ants and understand that there are more moving creatures than can be counted at that one instance.
Now imagine that every one of those people are lining up, because they agree with a particular expressed sentiment, and said sentiment happens to be against you.
That's how I felt, when I turned on the TV and saw tons of cars lined up to defend someone's hurtful opinions. But most of all, my heart broke because I had family members and friends in those lines. Someone said something hurtful, and rather than stand up for me, because I ached, people that know me instead chose to defend people they don't.
If this was all just about freedoms of speech, it wouldn't have been such a huge deal. But many people just don't understand. They don't understand how opinions can affect so many people so, so deeply. Opinions create the air that all of society breathes... regardless of what side.
For example: an amazing friend of mine has a strong allergic reaction twice a year, in tune with the changing seasons. Since middle school, he's had to deal with these rashes that would painfully bubble, bleed, blister, and crack, and any doctors and dermatologists that his family would take him to see would tell him that it was all due to anxiety and stress. Unfortunately, he could only attribute any and all stresses in his existence - those resulting from being picked on, constantly hiding tears, being hatefully bullied - to being gay. And so, this friend of mine spent decades attributing this allergic reaction to his sexual orientation, and feeling like he could never talk to anyone about it.
But you see, there are millions of variations on this story, because there are millions of people that have felt the effect of the disgusting stigma. I have friends that were forced to leave home, before they were of age. I have friends that have attempted suicide.
One story comes from home...
Brandon and I were both raised Catholic, and we were both very devout kids. When we realized we were different, he went to speak to his priest and I to my youth leader. We both received the same pamphlets that taught us that we, as homosexuals, were accepted by the church as naturally occurring. However, we were never to act on our impulses - we had been called to lead a "special life."
So, a flesh-rending dichotomy was then born within my soul: I was both an incredibly devout child of god, from whom I craved infinite understanding and love and a monstrous pariah, undeserving of such attention. I developed an impossibly ferocious and abysmally deep self-loathing, and it took years before I could begin to see myself as a person... and even longer before I could love myself.
However, my best friend and partner in life has recently told me that, until recently, he'd felt that as though a part of who we are together, a dynamic shared by us, was innately sin.
And my heart broke.
My heart broke for him, for ever having to suffer that sort of ridiculous nonsense. My heart broke for us...I mean imagine trying to cultivate and nurture a relationship, when a Half felt (perhaps unconsciously, if not actively) that there was something innately wrong with the Whole.
And my heart hurt for every little boy or girl who's ever had to grow up internalizing such a terrible stigma. For boys and girls who've ever had to hide who they were, from peers, from classmates, from teachers, from family, from society.
For the teenage girls that were recently shot in the face, or for the one beaten by a group of adult men until more of her blood poured onto the floor than an onlooker had ever seen. And for all the stories that haven't made it to the news.
YOU. ARE NOT. SIN. Whether your family, your friends, your community, your government, or even other members of the GLBT community do not support or empathize with you, you are perfect as you are. You are beautiful.
I want people to understand that when people speak their minds, be they Chuck Norris, rap artists, ignorant misspellings on Facebook, or popular restaurants, others listen and react. People are affected across time, for decades, and the effects are incredibly damaging. They may not always be direct causes, but they do not help. It's time for old stigmas to disappear and opinions to change and it's time for my brothers and sisters to stop living in fear of rejection, severed ties, and blood.
Stand up for what is right, next time.
You see, sometimes, when people say horribly inane, bigoted, and hateful things... people listen. People hear things like that, and sometimes, whether things are said in jest or not, they're taken seriously. In fact, it doesn't even matter if the things said weren't threatening or murder-related... all it takes is a personal opinion or point of view that expresses highly polarizing sentiment for people to react.
I want some of you to close your eyes and imagine a line of cars, curling around a building and down a road. Now, I want you to imagine hundreds, maybe thousands, of similar images, at one time, in the same way that one might stare into a swarm of ants and understand that there are more moving creatures than can be counted at that one instance.
Now imagine that every one of those people are lining up, because they agree with a particular expressed sentiment, and said sentiment happens to be against you.
That's how I felt, when I turned on the TV and saw tons of cars lined up to defend someone's hurtful opinions. But most of all, my heart broke because I had family members and friends in those lines. Someone said something hurtful, and rather than stand up for me, because I ached, people that know me instead chose to defend people they don't.
If this was all just about freedoms of speech, it wouldn't have been such a huge deal. But many people just don't understand. They don't understand how opinions can affect so many people so, so deeply. Opinions create the air that all of society breathes... regardless of what side.
For example: an amazing friend of mine has a strong allergic reaction twice a year, in tune with the changing seasons. Since middle school, he's had to deal with these rashes that would painfully bubble, bleed, blister, and crack, and any doctors and dermatologists that his family would take him to see would tell him that it was all due to anxiety and stress. Unfortunately, he could only attribute any and all stresses in his existence - those resulting from being picked on, constantly hiding tears, being hatefully bullied - to being gay. And so, this friend of mine spent decades attributing this allergic reaction to his sexual orientation, and feeling like he could never talk to anyone about it.
But you see, there are millions of variations on this story, because there are millions of people that have felt the effect of the disgusting stigma. I have friends that were forced to leave home, before they were of age. I have friends that have attempted suicide.
One story comes from home...
Brandon and I were both raised Catholic, and we were both very devout kids. When we realized we were different, he went to speak to his priest and I to my youth leader. We both received the same pamphlets that taught us that we, as homosexuals, were accepted by the church as naturally occurring. However, we were never to act on our impulses - we had been called to lead a "special life."
So, a flesh-rending dichotomy was then born within my soul: I was both an incredibly devout child of god, from whom I craved infinite understanding and love and a monstrous pariah, undeserving of such attention. I developed an impossibly ferocious and abysmally deep self-loathing, and it took years before I could begin to see myself as a person... and even longer before I could love myself.
However, my best friend and partner in life has recently told me that, until recently, he'd felt that as though a part of who we are together, a dynamic shared by us, was innately sin.
And my heart broke.
My heart broke for him, for ever having to suffer that sort of ridiculous nonsense. My heart broke for us...I mean imagine trying to cultivate and nurture a relationship, when a Half felt (perhaps unconsciously, if not actively) that there was something innately wrong with the Whole.
And my heart hurt for every little boy or girl who's ever had to grow up internalizing such a terrible stigma. For boys and girls who've ever had to hide who they were, from peers, from classmates, from teachers, from family, from society.
For the teenage girls that were recently shot in the face, or for the one beaten by a group of adult men until more of her blood poured onto the floor than an onlooker had ever seen. And for all the stories that haven't made it to the news.
YOU. ARE NOT. SIN. Whether your family, your friends, your community, your government, or even other members of the GLBT community do not support or empathize with you, you are perfect as you are. You are beautiful.
I want people to understand that when people speak their minds, be they Chuck Norris, rap artists, ignorant misspellings on Facebook, or popular restaurants, others listen and react. People are affected across time, for decades, and the effects are incredibly damaging. They may not always be direct causes, but they do not help. It's time for old stigmas to disappear and opinions to change and it's time for my brothers and sisters to stop living in fear of rejection, severed ties, and blood.
Stand up for what is right, next time.
6.07.2012
Death, Again
today marks the second time, this year, that i've lost family. i will not wear black, not because of his imperfection, but because he was happy and he smiled while he lived.
this man taught me to eat dessert before a meal, so that, if i happened to be full after said meal, i wouldn't go without dessert.
this man and i shared a love of the water.
this man smiled like the light, surrounded by people that would take advantage of him.
this man's machismo reflected his place in history, in time itself, but i'd seen his tears, and this meant a great deal to me.
this man was a proud and sarcastic wise-ass, very unlike myself.
this man was misunderstood for decades. his story was misquoted without his knowing, without his being there to rewrite it, and so i write this because i love him, and i know better. i don't think there will be a huge service in his honor, with family traveling to see his calm and featureless face. what he wants won't be done...he'll be returned to the earth, rather than to the winds, and in a place far away from where he'd expressed he'd rather be.
but again, he was happy and he smiled while he lived. what happens now is more us than them - the dead do not care where they sleep, nor to where they scatter. but i'll preserve the memory.
i love you,
your "john lennon" <3
6.04.2012
Death in the Work Family
recently, a dear coworker came in and asked me for help in opening a message on a cellphone and translating it. she explains that the phone belonged to her son, who just passed away.
*gut-wrench*
the day before the death had been her other son's birthday. while everyone was out having a good time, Ricky spent most of the day at home with her. he left late into the night to go meet up with them and say hi, mostly, as he was an introverted and shy kind of guy. after a short while, everyone decides to go home, and Ricky's driving by himself, in front of the small caravan of family and friends. he'd had nothing to drink and he always drove the speed limit.
on the way home, a girl, playfully driving her car back and forth across the lanes slammed into his car. his car failed to deploy air-bags, and so Ricky died immediately from a snapped neck, without any marks left on his body.
my coworker talked to me about it and how she'd reacted. she talked about how disgusting it feels that there is no name for what has happened... "<when a person loses their parents, they become orphans...and when they lose their spouse, they become widowed...but there is no term for losing a child. it's not something that anyone should ever go through.>"
i asked her if he was a happy person, and she told me how, even though he was shy and not so outgoing, he enjoyed music, always laughed, and loved to eat candy. his brother told her that, though he felt nervous and clumsy around them, he had even danced with a girl that night. he was happy.
i cried with her, bringing myself as close as humanly possible to feeling what she felt without having experienced the same thing, and she told me to love my family and friends, because at any moment, i may not have another chance to say hello, goodbye, or i love you.
and so, to my friends and family, hello, goodbye, and i love you. i ask that you share the same message with your friends, your family, and your loved ones. at any moment, any of our existences may come to an end. and death is beautiful...it is the only absolute truth, the one thing each of us are guaranteed. however, sometimes sweet death comes to kiss our foreheads and still our drumming hearts sooner than we had planned.
my friend felt comfort in feeling that her son was in a good place and she finds strength sometimes, in knowing that he wouldn't be happy seeing her not eat, not sleep, not live... and i smile, happy that such thoughts keep her from falling apart.
but i do not believe in an afterlife. i do not believe in heaven, hell, or **insert name for what-comes-after**. i do not believe in anything other than what we are experiencing as life, now, because they are unknowable, and because they are unknowable, they do not matter - they are distractions from the present.
i beg you, from the deepest places in my heart, i beg you, don't waste your time thinking of the future or looking back into the past. live each day purposefully, with self-appointed meaning, and share experiences with those that you love. we have infinitely small amounts of time and space at our disposal, and if, in the end, there is in fact nothing but a simple halt in continuity, we will all wish we had kissed once more, hugged even tighter, and danced a little longer.
please, take care. <3
*gut-wrench*
the day before the death had been her other son's birthday. while everyone was out having a good time, Ricky spent most of the day at home with her. he left late into the night to go meet up with them and say hi, mostly, as he was an introverted and shy kind of guy. after a short while, everyone decides to go home, and Ricky's driving by himself, in front of the small caravan of family and friends. he'd had nothing to drink and he always drove the speed limit.
on the way home, a girl, playfully driving her car back and forth across the lanes slammed into his car. his car failed to deploy air-bags, and so Ricky died immediately from a snapped neck, without any marks left on his body.
my coworker talked to me about it and how she'd reacted. she talked about how disgusting it feels that there is no name for what has happened... "<when a person loses their parents, they become orphans...and when they lose their spouse, they become widowed...but there is no term for losing a child. it's not something that anyone should ever go through.>"
i asked her if he was a happy person, and she told me how, even though he was shy and not so outgoing, he enjoyed music, always laughed, and loved to eat candy. his brother told her that, though he felt nervous and clumsy around them, he had even danced with a girl that night. he was happy.
i cried with her, bringing myself as close as humanly possible to feeling what she felt without having experienced the same thing, and she told me to love my family and friends, because at any moment, i may not have another chance to say hello, goodbye, or i love you.
and so, to my friends and family, hello, goodbye, and i love you. i ask that you share the same message with your friends, your family, and your loved ones. at any moment, any of our existences may come to an end. and death is beautiful...it is the only absolute truth, the one thing each of us are guaranteed. however, sometimes sweet death comes to kiss our foreheads and still our drumming hearts sooner than we had planned.
my friend felt comfort in feeling that her son was in a good place and she finds strength sometimes, in knowing that he wouldn't be happy seeing her not eat, not sleep, not live... and i smile, happy that such thoughts keep her from falling apart.
but i do not believe in an afterlife. i do not believe in heaven, hell, or **insert name for what-comes-after**. i do not believe in anything other than what we are experiencing as life, now, because they are unknowable, and because they are unknowable, they do not matter - they are distractions from the present.
i beg you, from the deepest places in my heart, i beg you, don't waste your time thinking of the future or looking back into the past. live each day purposefully, with self-appointed meaning, and share experiences with those that you love. we have infinitely small amounts of time and space at our disposal, and if, in the end, there is in fact nothing but a simple halt in continuity, we will all wish we had kissed once more, hugged even tighter, and danced a little longer.
please, take care. <3
4.23.2012
6% ratings and hyrulian excursions
i have this thing with movies... i really really dislike watching them if i have no idea what they're about. a person could tell me that Blah-Blah-Blah is a fantastic film, but if i get no mini-synopsis, i won't get around to watching it. so, because of this, i really like watching movie trailers. this was, unfortunately, the undoing of the movie Dream House.
the trailer doesn't really give anything away, per se, but it ruins the entire first 80% of the film by taking away the mystery of what's going on. the moment they said this particular thing in the trailer, i paused, brought up Rotten Tomatoes, and saw one of the most gruesome scores ever. i still watched the movie, and actually liked it, to be honest. but oooh, that trailer... most of the complaints on the aforementioned site blamed it for "giving it all away" (it really doesn't, but it does). it's one of those movies that people assume is a scary horror movie, but really isn't. much like Blindness, another movie that people didn't care for.
i blame my inability to blindly watch a movie and/or my lack of a neuralizer.
_________________________
i've finally played a new game. let me remind everyone that i've not played anything new since July of last year. my list of games to play ever increases with every few weeks, but i've been good and saved for more important things. because i've been playing less video games, i've actually been reading voraciously, much to the hubs' discontent (when i read, i read all the time, which means he gets less attention devoted to him. ^_^), but i digress. i fiiiiiiinally got to play Skyward Sword, and i loved it!
it was definitely a new experience for me, playing with the wii-mote, rather than a good ol' fashioned controller...and though i honestly didn't hate it, i wouldn't purposely choose to play that way, given the option not to. it was slightly annoying having to roll bombs when i'm reclining on the couch, or swing just the right direction in order to damage a stupid scorpion's open claw. *grumble grumble*
the story was pretty great, i have to admit. after such a huge hype, i was slightly worried that the game would fall short of a masterpiece, but honestly, it was pure love. admittedly, it even got me emotional at some points. i gasped, i teared up, and i stayed up late. that's how you know if i'm really enjoying a video game...i lose all sense of reality and time, and i play until i've less than 3 hours of sleep before alarm clocks start going off.
but my absolute favorite thing, is that this iteration marked the 25th anniversary of the Zelda franchise, and the game heavily reflected it. there was little musical allusions to Link to the Past (and my favorite Zelda game), symbology from Ocarina of Time, and "Twenty-three is number one!"
speaking of which...they should remake LttP. mmmm, such a delicious game. <3
the trailer doesn't really give anything away, per se, but it ruins the entire first 80% of the film by taking away the mystery of what's going on. the moment they said this particular thing in the trailer, i paused, brought up Rotten Tomatoes, and saw one of the most gruesome scores ever. i still watched the movie, and actually liked it, to be honest. but oooh, that trailer... most of the complaints on the aforementioned site blamed it for "giving it all away" (it really doesn't, but it does). it's one of those movies that people assume is a scary horror movie, but really isn't. much like Blindness, another movie that people didn't care for.
i blame my inability to blindly watch a movie and/or my lack of a neuralizer.
_________________________
i've finally played a new game. let me remind everyone that i've not played anything new since July of last year. my list of games to play ever increases with every few weeks, but i've been good and saved for more important things. because i've been playing less video games, i've actually been reading voraciously, much to the hubs' discontent (when i read, i read all the time, which means he gets less attention devoted to him. ^_^), but i digress. i fiiiiiiinally got to play Skyward Sword, and i loved it!
it was definitely a new experience for me, playing with the wii-mote, rather than a good ol' fashioned controller...and though i honestly didn't hate it, i wouldn't purposely choose to play that way, given the option not to. it was slightly annoying having to roll bombs when i'm reclining on the couch, or swing just the right direction in order to damage a stupid scorpion's open claw. *grumble grumble*
the story was pretty great, i have to admit. after such a huge hype, i was slightly worried that the game would fall short of a masterpiece, but honestly, it was pure love. admittedly, it even got me emotional at some points. i gasped, i teared up, and i stayed up late. that's how you know if i'm really enjoying a video game...i lose all sense of reality and time, and i play until i've less than 3 hours of sleep before alarm clocks start going off.
but my absolute favorite thing, is that this iteration marked the 25th anniversary of the Zelda franchise, and the game heavily reflected it. there was little musical allusions to Link to the Past (and my favorite Zelda game), symbology from Ocarina of Time, and "Twenty-three is number one!"speaking of which...they should remake LttP. mmmm, such a delicious game. <3
2.07.2012
faggotry
about time i felt the urge to herbal write something, if a bit ranty. i know i'd said that i'd create a before-and-after of the house and all the stuff we've been working on... and i still will!! i just want to wait 'til there's more done. then i'll create one big post about it. but, today, i feel like birthing a little bit of my irritation and pain through words. beautiful, placenta-covered words.
many times now, i've stumbled across the word "faggot" on facebook, on various people's statuses and comments, and 2 instances have vividly stayed with me. in one, a cousin of mine, in an attempt to make a point via social media, posted a picture comparing Steve Jobs to Dennis Ritchie. the picture itself just tells of how little the latter was recognized at death, even though he had so much to do with so many things, while the former was elevated to pope-status. this in itself, obviously, does not bother me, but the caption of "Steve Jobs = Faggot" did. obviously, Steve Jobs was no homosexual, and the word was (probably?) not said with that particular connotation in mind. but i saw it, and it sort of hurt. i don't personally care for Steve Jobs, but i'm sort of sure it that it wasn't his fault that more people didn't know about Dennis. i'm even going to go out on a limb here and say that i'm pretty sure that he did nothing to stop the world from knowing Dennis or being aware of Dennis' death while at his own deathbed. just reading that caption was enough to grab my attention. and not in the oh-yay-i-looked-at-the-pic kind of way.
the second event in which the word "faggot" was used hit me even harder than the first. an acquaintance of my brother's posted a picture of him making some kind of goofy face, as usual. comments, however, were directed at the gentleman sitting behind him, with his legs crossed in that stereotypically uncharacteristic-of-a-male way. and someone called him a fag. i didn't say anything, as it wasn't a friend of mine. i've never met the person, nor have i established any other connection, where i felt i could say something and then expect to be listened to. but you know what i thought?
what if that was me? what if i happen to be in the background of some random person's photo, and i'm smiling just a bit too happily at the hubs while we're at lunch? what if i'm enjoying a beer while we hang out at our local delicious food place, and i also happen to cross my legs in that same stereotypically uncharacteristic-of-a-male way? and what if those people share that photo and made fun of me and called me a fag to all their friends through use of social media? i may never hear it or know of it, in the same way that this kid in the pic probably won't ever hear or know of it. but someone else would, just like i did. and someone else would hurt, just like i did.
i should've said something. it hurt, but my thoughts instead told me to keep from causing some kind of childish fight on the internet. so i'm choosing to do this instead. and i posted something else, just before this, to act as a stand alone statement:
let's see what
so it's way passed my bedtime. let's finish off (ha!) this post with a smile. <3
many times now, i've stumbled across the word "faggot" on facebook, on various people's statuses and comments, and 2 instances have vividly stayed with me. in one, a cousin of mine, in an attempt to make a point via social media, posted a picture comparing Steve Jobs to Dennis Ritchie. the picture itself just tells of how little the latter was recognized at death, even though he had so much to do with so many things, while the former was elevated to pope-status. this in itself, obviously, does not bother me, but the caption of "Steve Jobs = Faggot" did. obviously, Steve Jobs was no homosexual, and the word was (probably?) not said with that particular connotation in mind. but i saw it, and it sort of hurt. i don't personally care for Steve Jobs, but i'm sort of sure it that it wasn't his fault that more people didn't know about Dennis. i'm even going to go out on a limb here and say that i'm pretty sure that he did nothing to stop the world from knowing Dennis or being aware of Dennis' death while at his own deathbed. just reading that caption was enough to grab my attention. and not in the oh-yay-i-looked-at-the-pic kind of way.
the second event in which the word "faggot" was used hit me even harder than the first. an acquaintance of my brother's posted a picture of him making some kind of goofy face, as usual. comments, however, were directed at the gentleman sitting behind him, with his legs crossed in that stereotypically uncharacteristic-of-a-male way. and someone called him a fag. i didn't say anything, as it wasn't a friend of mine. i've never met the person, nor have i established any other connection, where i felt i could say something and then expect to be listened to. but you know what i thought?
what if that was me? what if i happen to be in the background of some random person's photo, and i'm smiling just a bit too happily at the hubs while we're at lunch? what if i'm enjoying a beer while we hang out at our local delicious food place, and i also happen to cross my legs in that same stereotypically uncharacteristic-of-a-male way? and what if those people share that photo and made fun of me and called me a fag to all their friends through use of social media? i may never hear it or know of it, in the same way that this kid in the pic probably won't ever hear or know of it. but someone else would, just like i did. and someone else would hurt, just like i did.
i should've said something. it hurt, but my thoughts instead told me to keep from causing some kind of childish fight on the internet. so i'm choosing to do this instead. and i posted something else, just before this, to act as a stand alone statement:
"listen my friends and family, every time you use the word FAGGOT, i want you to envision yourself saying it to me. every time you call some kid, or some loser, or some nerd, regardless of the reason, a FAGGOT, i want you to remember that the word has been used against me.a bit preachy, i suppose, but i'm gonna stick by it. i don't usually get preachy and post things like that on FB, as a large percentage of my connections there are family, but this had been bubbling up for a while.
if, as my friends and family, you can still stand to say the word... if you can, as my friends and family, still refuse to hear the word and not say anything... then please let me know. so that i may immediately sever all ties with you. you don't deserve to be friend or family if you can still stand to say/hear the word and think of me, and feel nothing."
let's see what
so it's way passed my bedtime. let's finish off (ha!) this post with a smile. <3
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