Christmas Eve 2K9

this page won't load, won't let me see your face
it might be digitized but at least its
inches from mine
and this place
this place
scares the hell out of me
yet
somehow i wish i could be here a little more
texted
unexpected
something to stay for
i didn't know life had this many edges
for me to live on

i told my doctor yesterday more than
afraid to hear his reaction
but he assured me,
hugged me
for a long time.
and said it's not a matter of right
or wrong
but what you need
to do for yourself

merry christmas

it's good i guess if good is
as much as we pretend it to be
if fake things can be
just as good
if you don't make any more
out of anything
than you absolutely have to
if you forget
that there's another life out there
while you sit around this tree
if you forget your gift to yourself
to belong with them on christmas eve

It's cold in this house. I'm sitting at a chair in my "dining room" with a blanket wrapped around me, and for those of you who may be wonering (since the timestamp isn't quite accurate for these entries), it's two in the morning. I came home early to deal with my family--to deal with what financial matters regarding school and my apartment and the like. But we've barely talked about that. It took maybe 30 minutes to sort everything out and for them to tell me that they weren't going to do anything like that at all. So now I'm wondering why I had to leave Pittsburgh so urgently. I'm wondering why they made it seem like they needed me to be here and why I had to miss a very important camp weekend. Things are very weird here. My parents are acting like nothing has changed at all, which I suppose is good in some ways. Perhaps that means they will realize that nothing about me is going to change at all through this process. But I have this horrible, wrenching fear that they are just ignoring everything that is happening. They are pretending that our conversations over this past month have not even happened, and there have been no more questions asked, nothing even hinted at. I worry so much about this. I think it only adds to how I feel when I am at home most of the time. I'm stuck in a time warp in this place. I come home, and most things are exactly the same. My parents redid the living room, but it's still the same place. It looks a little different, but not that much now that I think about it. The furniture is new, but it is all laid out in the same way. I always feel terribly lonely in this place. I sort of felt that way the last year or year and a half that I lived here anyway. I never wanted to be in my own house. There was nothing that interested me here, and somtimes I just felt uncomfortable. But I'm not really uncomfortable now. It's a feeling that I can't quite place yet. It's definitely feeling more like home than it has in the past, and that might have something to do with how it felt to come home with both my parents and to see my mom for the first time in months, after she had refused to speak with me for so long. In a way, it's nice to know that things can be okay, but at the same time, I want things to be okay for real. I don't want to have to pretend. I want them to at least acknowledge that some things will be different or discuss them with me or something. I want them to give a crap. I want them to care about me enough to be interested. I hate feeling like I'm the kid that's just not as important, when so many actions of theirs indicate that it's actually true. I'm not going to go into that right now because that would be really depressing. And maybe they don't even realize what they are doing. I remember being given a particular excuse in the past that Darrell just needs more attention and more guidance/watching over or whatever because we know you'll be fine no matter what. I can understand this in ways, but that doesn't mean I haven't felt abandoned at times. And that doesn't explain preferential treatment when we're both dealing with pretty serious situations. And to be honest, his is way more stable than mine right now. They knew Cinci was the senior game too. I mean, it sucks that I missed it, but they were visiting my brother that day. They could have done it any day, really. They see him every week without fail. They haven't come to a game of mine in 2 years. I really don't know what that says. Maybe nothing. But a lot of the time, it's not what you mean that matters. People never really see what you mean, only what you do. And that's all we have to judge by. Can you blame someone in light of that? Can you really blame people for misconstruing situations every now and then? And perhaps there are some people who get particularly offended by this because they try to project a much nobler image than they truly embody. People do shit, pretending to have good intentions. We all do that from time to time, but don't we all get a little ticked or unnerved when someone finds us out? I really don't know why brought that up right now, and very few people know what I mean anyway since I actually do have specific instances in mind, but I think it's better that I keep those to myself. Some things just aren't worth it anymore.
I don't know. What the hell was I trying to talk about? This place. Or maybe another place. You know what's great about gyms? No matter where you go, they are pretty much the same, and pretty much the same dynamic exists in every gym. You don't have to worry about feeling the place out as much as you do any other place. You know how things work, and you know how you are supposed to fit into that environment. It's no surprise why I'm attracted to them or why I feel so comfortable when I'm working out. And it's really not about anybody else. You're in your own world when you're working out, which is good somtimes and not others. You can sometimes bring another person into that world, but each group of people even is a little universe. Nothing else that anyone does really matters. It's an escape. I obviously went to the gym here today and felt more okay there than I have this whole time I've been here. But it's not that I'm not okay at the moment. I'm just less so, comparatively. I had a feeling I would be rambling a lot tonight.
Other things. I rode a train for the first time in my life, and I am fairly confident that I am never riding a bus again. Three times as much leg room, outlets, and a dining car. And a view of snow falling all the way east. I didn't get those feelings of panic in my stomach that time. Bus rides usually cause me a lot of distress, probably from being so close to random people. I'm sure there are other reasons as well.
I suppose that I just don't like feeling like things haven't changed at all. I don't like feeling the same as I did when I was 16 in this house. I want to know that my life is different and better. I want to know that we all aren't stuck like that. Sometimes there are hints that we have all grown, but a lot of the time, at least here, it feels like nothing has changed, as I said. I mean, sometimes that's nice. Nostalgic perhaps. But not about the important things. Maybe change isn't the right word in that case. Maybe evolve?
I read Maniac Magee for the first time in ten years. I think I like it even more now. And I think I realize more than ever how important that book is for kids to understand. It's hard to explain how much of an impact a book like that has if you haven't read it--if you didn't read it back when you were just about to enter middle school or a little earlier. The funniest thing is that, when I first read the book, it seemed like way more time had passed in the story. It seemed like several years from the start of the book to the end, but obviously that's not the case. Weird shit.
I don't even know if I have anything else that's meaningful to write about. I want to have something meaningful. I want to throw some brilliant shit out there, but I have nothing. This place doesn't do much for creativity. It's a black hole. As my father and I were driving up the road that leads to my house--the main road in Edwardsville that turns onto my street--I took in the view of the dirty sidewalks and buildings alongside, almost as grey as the few souls hobbling about in the cold--and I just threw my arms down into the seat and said, "This really is the town that God forgot about."
I love how I can feel tired one minute and wide awake the next. I make no sense. I should probably sleep, but I don't get the point. Not now. I have nothing that I really need to do at all. It's weird. It's not even that I could do anything. Too cold to walk anywhere, and I can't drive. I'm kind of stranded. I hate that. That's what I hate most. Even if there is nothing to get away from, knowing that you can get away is important. It lets you know that you are in control of the situation in some way. And I am clearly not in control of my situation right now, and it is a situation in which something bad may happen at any moment, and I know that I will not be able to get away from it no matter how much I want to. I tried to exercise control by taking that train home instead of waiting until Sunday when things could have been way worse, considering the conversation Friday night. But maybe coming home early was more like giving in than waiting it out. I don't know. I never know what I'm supposed to do. I just do what I think is right, and most of the time, that's what you have to do. But sometimes people are just wrong, and there's no way to know it. I know I'm not saying anything terribly profound here, but give me a break. It's like three in the morning, and my body and mind are probably a lot more tired than I believe.
I'm afraid of going to see my brother on Christmas. This will be the first time speaking to each other since my whole family found out. I have pretty bad feelings about this building up in my stomach. I almost wish something would happen while we are there because then things could just move forward. I hate purposeful stagnation when there is no point. I hate putting things off, especially when they are important. And I hate not knowing things, and there are so many things that aren't being discussed, and there are so many unknowns in the future, and no one here is helping at all with all of this stress I'm dealing with. They act like this is easy for me. And they think that pretending that my life isn't happening is going to make it easier on me? It's insane. I don't understand how people can operate this way. I don't understand how you could live your life like this, ignoring all of the things that really matter and obsessing over stupid little things you hear on TV and can't do anything about. And there's no way to make people see what's really important. Granted, not everyone finds the same things important, but I assume that there are certain univerals, more or less. Like family. And things happening to immediate family members. But maybe I'm wrong. It's amazing that my brain has survived all of this. And yeah, it is kind of amazing that I came out of this place. Maybe I'm not as much of a fuck up as people thought I was going to be. As a lot of people still say or think I am. I mean, most people think I'm a complete moron when they meet me, which is normally fine, but sometimes I just wish I could get a little bit of respect for my intelligence. Whatever. I hate being a little bitch and being all pompous about being smart. Everybody's smart, pretty much. Everyone's good at something. Yes, these are things to be proud of and to be celebrated, but you don't have to go shoving your 4.0 in people's faces when there's just no reason to. I'd rather be known for being an awesome person who is there for his friends than for being smart. That doesn't mean that I don't value my intelligence. It's also an essential part of who I am. It's just that I don't really like to brag about any quality of mine. I think just doing the things shows way more. It's really hard to explain this without sounding like an arrogant douchebag. But I don't intend to, and most of the people that I know aren't arrogant bastards. I just know that they are out there, and I'm probably just reiterating things that people already know or feel about them. I'm sure a lot of what people perceive actually comes from the fact that I say stupid shit because sometimes it's really funny.
This might be the most ridiculously random post yet.
My chest hurts again in that same spot. I wonder if I should be worried.
I guess things are winding down. Either that or my brain has giving up on letting me get its thoughts out.
I need random topics to write about. Anything really. Could be something you don't even think people should be able to write about. It might be fun. Or I might fail, and it would still be funny. Serious shit is acceptable. Absurd things are always welcome and greatly appreciated. No politics. Can't stand that shit.
I have to close with a quote. It was just too perfect:

"Inside his house, a kid gets one name, but on the other side of the door, it's whatever the rest of the world wants to call him."

Blackout

I was walking home from class around dusk. The streets were darker than I had ever seen them. Absolutely no light except the slivers from the sky, barely breaking through the clouds, frozen magma overhead. And the wind didn't just howl. It moaned. And it squealed. Then it whispered, fading into apocalyptic silence. I didn't pass another human being the entire way down Atwood street, and as I descended with the landscape, my only company being the sneakers swaying overhead on electric tightropes, I felt my insides rise up in exhilaration. I might have begun to sweat, but fear played no part in my autonomic response. This was the body's way of responding to something it has never experienced before, and will likely never experience again. It was my body's way of tuning in to the physical world--of realizing just how beautiful that world can be when stripped of its material "necessities".
I made the tedious journey through the impenetrable darkness of the winding staircase leading to my third floor apartment, finding the proper key by the feel of the cool metal ridges against my skin, perfectly attuned proprioception allowing me to unlock the deadbolt almost effortlessly. A few steps in, I grabbed the large white candle atop the bookshelf in my living room, hopped delicately over the various articles of clothing strewn about the floor, and made my way to the stove. I turned the dial on the left-hand side of the range and waited for the subtle hiss of gas escaping the valve to evolve into flame before thrusting the cylinder of wax head-first into the inferno. No blaze of glory, just a flicker in the darkness. Just enough to let you know that everything is going to be alright.

Waffles on Thursday

my week can't have begun
a week ago
more like thursday
different kind of meeting
than i'm used to
even though i should
have seen it all before
new people
to try their luck at doing
something
that matters.
if only everyone knew
what that used to mean
how it felt to find something that matters
and stick your soul to it with rubber cement
now more like a post-it note with the glue just
flaking off maybe it'll stick if you hold it there
but people will get tired of holding your hand someday
but i guess it's only paper anyway and paper
doesn't care
i don't know what i felt walking out
maybe it was nothing but i wanted
something
maybe just something
to be different
because everything
was starting to feel the same.
the same sitting on the couch and looking forward
to nothing but a night barely
sprinkled with sleep
and another day of hiding
my face in books.
pretender.
let's drive. fast. and far away.
running away from the rest of my life
is perfectly fine from time to time.
pretender. back for class at nine.
it's that feeling
of being in motion. and being
in control of that motion.
acceleration
moving you forward
throwing you back
at the same time.
singing along to a loud song
on a midnight highway is like
having a conversation of a whole new kind.
voices harmonizing
at just the right time
and glances that meet
in the middle when you know
you're thinking
the exact same thing.
and you still don't know where you
need to go
but that's not what matters
so why not cross state lines
for breakfast
in the middle
of the night?
west virginia waffle house and a wild
fire
that might not even have been real
i wonder what that woman thought
when she heard us talking
about driving all that way
to sit in her diner
and feed
our emotional gluttony.
and walk out with a hash brown too.
and why not take the chance
while your at it taking chances
find out just how far
you can push you car
yourself
without filling up
end up
in the wrong county
too far north of where
you need to be
missed the mark
by a long shot
and didn't even know
didn't even think
just drove.
and it was okay.
it was dark. foreign. but
okay.
track 12. home.
but we weren't even close
but depending on your definition
of home
maybe we never left
the comforts of our fortress
and hey we even had that cozy fire
somewhere in the distance
behind the tangle of trees which might
have hidden beasts or bodies or a better
way out of there.
missed the tunnels.
came in from the wrong side
but no matter which way you look at it
it's damn beautiful
too see this place at night
lit up
light you
to see the mirror on the surface
of the water
and the metal threads of the bridge
you're wrapped in
and it's hard to imagine
another life
anywhere else
at any time
because how could you have
how could you ever
live without this?

December'd

Don't feel like I'm feeling anything. Tried writing some poetry but it didn't work. Maybe it's the fight I'm having with my eyelids. Maybe it's the one I'm having with mom. I'm not asking for permission, which is what I think they think. Do I really feel like talking about that now? Life needs a pause button. Not even all of it. It's like I've got 4 or 5 different screens playing. I just can't watch all of them at once, and I hate it when I miss things. I need to Tivo my own life. Too many things to worry about. Not enough things I can do about any of them right now. Focus. Enough for a few more weeks before I crash. But the ball's going to keep rolling right on through the end of this semester. What the hell am I even saying? I hate having to use expressions like that. It makes me feel lazy. I don't like when words don't mean anything anymore. I want something evocative out of what I read (and write). You can't give me a good mental image with some trite expression, but sometimes, that's the only thing that works to convey meaning. It's only surface meaning, though. To do the job right, you need more than one coat of paint. Each layer builds upon the next, ultimately leading to that seamless, shining finish. It might take a little longer, but the end product is definitely worth it.
I don't always do that here because sometimes I just need to vent. Sometimes I just need to get the mixed up feelings out of my system, and whatever words those feelings find are fine. And those feelings are mine, so why should I worry about the criticism from outside?
I'm really getting in a rut here with these random rants and disconnected postings of mine. It seems fitting, considering the general pattern of events occurring in my life right now, and by pattern, I mean lack of a pattern.
I really wonder if my mom still reads this. I wonder what she thinks of me as a human being after having seen all of this. Maybe she hasn't even read everything. Maybe she only managed to read it that one day to find the worst things I had written about my family in my entire life. I'm not going to be ashamed of what I wrote that day. Everything I said is true. And feelings are neither true nor false, and since I was feeling those things at the time, I see no reason to have to erase them and pretend that that part of my life didn't happen. I acknowledge both the good and the bad.
I'm not making any sense again. Maybe I just needed to feel like I did something important by writing something down.
I had a not-so-productive conversation with my parents tonight. I was at the gym when they called, and there was no way I could go back to working out after I got off the phone with them. Bad things would have happened. My mom is convinced I'll get cancer or something horrible will happen to me as a result of T. My dad expresses similar concerns only because my mom was able to find something on the internet that indicated the risks ( most of which/the major ones I believe she failed to recognize as extraordinarily rare). They also think the situation is identical to that of bodybuilders injecting themselves with shit-tons of it so they can be freaks. I tried explaining that there is completely different reasoning there, but they seem convinced that I'll just keep wanting to take more and more. I don't know how to make them see that these situations are vastly different and should never be equated. Oh and my mom thinks that it's going to fuck with my brain. Now she's even more convinced that my decision is irrational. I can't believe she doesn't think that I understand the risks. I've been looking at this for way longer than she has, and I've talked to way more people than she has, yet in finding some random shit on the internet over the course of only 2 days, she thinks that she has it all figured out. Now, I know that I don't know everything, but I'm pretty sure that the mortality and morbidity rates for trans people are the same as in the general population. I'm also pretty sure that there have been studies done to prove that testosterone actually increases working memory by a little bit. I feel like they're going to go crazy over these things. I don't know how to alleviate these concerns. I hope that they are just that--concerns. I hope that they don't go nuts over trying to change my mind. I wish they could just express concern without having to insult me or demand that I do something different. It's really aggravating.
They keep trying to change my mind. I think my dad sort of got the idea tonight. He said that it seemed like I was going to do anything to defend my position and not listen to anyone else. I suppose that's partly true. They aren't going to change my mind. Only I can change my mind. I understand the risks, and they are risks that I am prepared to take. My mom even accused me of not knowing what will make me happy. She said that there is no way that I can know that. I asked her if she knows what makes her happy, and she said that she doesn't all the time. When I told her that I wasn't talking about transient happiness, she just started evading the question. I ended up pointing out that maybe she should start thinking about it. Why is it so damn hard for people to think? I know what makes me happy. And I do know what I want. Why can't people accept that? Why must my parents try to diminish that? It's a very good thing to know what you want out of life? Am I supposed to wait until my life is half over before I start to live it? I don't see much sense in that. I don't see much sense in waiting years and years to do something that I know I will do anyway. It's not like I'm going to start T tomorrow either. I have already explained that I need to talk to a professional about this for a while before I do that.
There's no way to convince my parents, it seems. Everyone I talk to has to have an agenda. That must be it. I need to talk to independent people who don't have experience with this because those who are gender therapists or trans endocrinologists are biased and they'll tell me anything. That seems kind of ridiculous to me. I hope I am not the only one. NOT EVERYTHING IS A CONSPIRACY. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And sometimes a doctor is a doctor who will tell you the facts. And sometimes they recognize what risks are worth taking. If you're going to decrease someone's chances of suicide by 2000 percent by doing something that will increase one's chances of having liver cancer by less than .5 percent, well...The choice seems obvious. That's the way most people see it. What's the point if you're not going to be happy with your life anyway? What's the point of any of that health if you can't enjoy it because you make yourself sick all the time worrying about this? The risks are there. I am not denying it. But they aren't at all common. And I wouldn't be stupid about it. I'd get checked out all the time because that's what you're supposed to do. If you don't, you're an idiot. I've always been extremely concerned about my health and wellness, and it bothers me to think that my parents don't believe that I have considered that at all. I don't think they get it yet. If I weren't 100 percent sure of this and 100 percent ready to deal with everything, I wouldn't have decided that this was the right thing for me. I wouldn't have said anything at all. This isn't some game that I'm playing. And it's not just something that's going to go away. I keep getting frustrated by the things they say to me. I feel like they just want me to get tired of arguing with them and give up on it. But that's not what would happen. I would get tired of arguing them and do it anyway, and I don't know what that would do to our relationship. But I need them to understand that I am not looking for their approval here. I'm looking for them to attempt to understand the situation. And part of that is understanding that I don't need them trying to force me out of this every step of the way. Part of that is understanding that this is my decision and that I do not need them assaulting me with their opinions of it constantly. I'm reaching my limit with that, and I'm generally a pretty patient person. I can wait a little longer for them to understand that, but I have no idea how I can explain that to them if they don't figure it out for themselves.
I will make that call in the afternoon tomorrow.
And why is money such a huge concern when there are way more important things to be worrying about in this situation? They keep asking me where I am going to get the money for this, so I assume that means that they won't be helping me out. I'm fine with that. I have a plan.
I don't know. I'm just sick of always being on the defensive about my own life. I'm sick of my parents not respecting and/or trusting my decisions. They do this all the time, and I don't know why I expected it to be different this time.
I have a lot of things to do tomorrow. I need to get my act together and really focus during these last few weeks, but that seems impossible with all of this happening. I seriously think the best thing would just be to not talk to them until the end of the semester, but I know they won't react very well to that, and I feel like things aren't exactly in my favor right now and don't want to push the balance further away from me.
I should probably go to sleep considering I have class in 6 hours. I had planned to study for that class tonight, but every time I talk to my parents, I lose all my focus. I just get so worked up about things that it becomes impossible for me to do my work. That's really a problem. I need to explain this to them, but again, they aren't very likely to understand that either. While I can slack off most of the time, there are just some things for which that doesn't work...like when I have to turn in something instead of just studying for a quiz. I need the time to work on the shit. I can't fake that. Argh.
I don't know. Maybe I should just read some more. I say "I don't know" way too often. But it's true. There are a lot of things I don't have answers for. And I feel like that isn't always my fault. A lot of the time, I do have answers but fear that others may see them as the wrong ones. But with this--with being trans--it's completely different. It's something that I just don't worry about when it comes to the opinions of other people. I know that this is what is right. This is what I want. I can't stress that enough for my parents. This is who I am. If they could only see how living like this has improved things for me, then maybe they'd get it. But they are stuck several hundred miles away and have been for the past four years, so it's easy to see why they think that this is unexpected and doesn't make sense. I don't think they understand that I am definitely not the same person who left for college several years ago. How do people forget things like that? Were they really the same people as they were in high school when they graduated from college? They might have been. My dad never left home. My mom transferred from Michigan State after a year. Maybe they never changed. I don't know. But I grew up a whole lot when I realized what kind of world was out there. I had an idea, but I really didn't know what to expect. I knew things would be different. They were. And things just started to make so much sense. I am so much happier now than I have ever been. I can honestly say that. As lame as it may sound, I've finally found myself. And that just kicks ass.
I feel like I repeat myself a lot. I know I do. But sometimes I need that. Sometimes I need to remind myself that I'm the one that matters. Sometimes I worry way too much about how other people are doing that I forget to take care of myself. I guess that's the vice of my chosen profession. If it's not, it should be.
It's past 4 AM, for those of you who REALLY need to know. ;)
I ended up at Eat N Park tonight with good people. I had a great time, even though I barely said anything all night. Just being there was enough for me. At first it didn't feel like it should have been. I felt like more should have been going on between people. But that's not what tonight was about. It was about being part of that group. It was about just being together without worrying about saying anything or doing anything. It was good. And I'm glad I was able to recognize that.
I'm getting a little tired. I should probably sleep. I know I keep saying this.
I have no filter right now, it seems.
Right now? lol
Yes, I rarely use knives. I'll stab a fork into the meat and eat it like that. It's not even something that I think about, unless I'm in some really fancy restaurant where I have to be all self-conscious.
I'll probably say something that's completely inappropriate in the context of the conversation, and I may not pick up on forced subtlety. However, I am great at picking up the things you DON'T know you are conveying. It's easy to tell with things like that because you can't hide them. They are pretty much the same for everyone. You can't hide things like that because you have no idea that you are doing them. It's kind of cool, the science behind body language. It's a valuable skill. Yet I still manage to mess up basic things from time to time. It happens.
Oh yeah, and sometimes I just have no idea what the fuck to say. A lot of the time. Small talk is almost impossible. But there are some times when things are completely fine and I can talk about anything.
I'm sure there are other ridiculous things that I do that I'm just not remembering. Nothing to worry about, really. Except those random panic attacks, but that hasn't happened in a while. I'd like to think that I know why.
Alright, I'm actually going to be now. I think I need something profound at the end here.

-------------
You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be. --Palahniuk

Random Stuff

I'm in a class right now, and I can't really think of a good reason for updating. I have plenty of things that I need to say, but I also have no idea how to say them now. I might need some quiet time on my own for that. My dad did come to visit this weekend, rather unexpectedly. I was even more surprised by what happened through our conversations. My mom didn't come with him, however. I can't blame her. I know how upset she is. I know how this must be killing her inside. I don't understand it, and I wish I did, but I'm not going to deny how traumatic this must be for her. My dad seems unbelievably calm, and what is most astounding to me is that he actually seems to understand. And he's mostly okay with things, but I'm not sure if I would call that agreement. I think he knows what not accepting this and dealing with it could do. But my mom just wants to avoid things right now. She's going to have to deal with it sooner or later, though. Aren't we all guilty of avoiding our problems, though? I know that I am. But I'm also guilty of going to the opposite extreme a lot of the time. I just want to fix things and get shit done, and sometimes it just takes time. Sometimes you just need to wait. But sometimes I don't get that.
It's getting pretty hot in this room.
Random: I took a quiz today. I did not enjoy that.
I really just want to sleep, but I know that I need to read and study tonight.
I wonder how many people think I'm taking notes in this class. I seem like that good student to some people. Other people think I'm a complete jackoff. I can't say to which of those I am closer, but I am a little bit of both.
My face is breaking out a lot. I know it's only going to get worse. That's one thing that's definitely going to suck. I need to get to a dermatologist ASAP. Speaking of all of this shit, I need to call Persad tomorrow. I'm also expecting a call from my dad tomorrow. Roar. At least I don't have to work for the rest of the semester. That does give me some time, but I need the money. I don't know how I am going to get money for the rest of this time here. This sucks. Maybe I can do some research studies.
So Zoo Crew. I'd love to do it, but doing Elements means I wouldn't be able to make all of the performances for basketball games that they have scheduled. I know I'm not the only one. Maybe if there were weekday games and practices, more of us would be able to do it.
Done for now. Sorry this wasn't that interesting or cohesive.

jajnlks

I said I would do work when I got to the library, but all I can do is write. I just need to get this crap out of my mind. But there's no way that can happen. This isn't just something I can ignore, like I said. I especially can't ignore the fact that I'll probably be away from my family on Thanksgiving. They're probably going to see my brother without me. I wouldn't be surprised if they turned this around and told him that I didn't want to be there. Or maybe they'd be nice about it and say that I was playing at the WVU game or make up some other bullshit excuse. I don't know. I really do want to see him. And I really don't know what I would do if I were there. It seems like something that he really needs to know since both of my parents know and something terrible is likely to happen if I do end up going and something comes up in conversation. Maybe I should just suck it up and go and sit there in silence the whole time. That's usually what happens when we're all together because when I do say things, nobody agrees with me. Everyone always tries to negate what I say. I'm in college, so I have to be stupid, right? I am really just annoyed with that argument. I go to one of the best universities in the country and my circle of friends includes the best students at that university. We are seriously going to be the leaders of this country, and we're trying to fix all the fuckups of my parents' generation. We're trying to save their asses and our own. We aren't the ones who caused these problems, and we're not the ones who just let them get this bad. When shit doesn't work, you don't just complain about it, you do something about it. I'm doing something about my life. I take charge of things that are important to me. And I always work toward understanding why I'm doing the things that I am. I don't take things like that for granted. You should know why you believe what you believe, why you want what you do. If you know these things for yourself, there is no way that anyone can devalue what you believe. Why do I feel that people hate me so much for knowing what I want and having the balls to do it? I hate knowing that people think that I am crazy because I am doing something that is different AND IT IS MAKING ME HAPPY. Ever since I started this whole thing, I've been way more confident. I've been growing into myself. I'm learning what it means to be a man, in more ways than one. I like where I am going. I know this is right for me. How can people argue with that? How can people just assume that they know what is best for me? They haven't lived in my shoes. This is just one of those things that is very difficult for people to understand if they've never been exposed to it. I wouldn't assume to know what it is like to be a gay black kid. I have no idea what those experiences are like. But I do know what my own experiences are. And I have taken the time to examine them closely.
Somehow I hope this is helpful, for me and for others. I hope that in writing all of this shit, something makes sense to someone, even if that someone is myself a few weeks, months, or years removed from all of this. I know I'll have something to look at a long time from now, and I know I might be able to send someone in the right direction, perhaps my mother, if she ever comes around. I feel like my father never will. There might be a glimmer of hope for my mother, but that's even more unlikely than winning the lottery every day for a year. Actually, I'd love to find out what those chances are, just for shits and giggles.
Again, I should be in class now. But you know, I'd be doing the same thing I am right now. Except right now I have a friend by my side in the library.
I went to work today for two hours, got nothing done, but sat in the office with one of my best friends and ate shitty Chinese food and had a bitchfest. I really needed that. And I know that I'm doing what I need to do now.
My head is full of so much ridiculous shit. And the best thing is knowing that my friends will never abandon me.
Why do New Found Glory songs describe my life so perfectly?
"It's hard to get rejected by the one you most expected to be by your side, your first thought being you should run and hide."
Oh America. We've become the Land of Pretending to be Free. Does anyone even know what that means anymore? Freedom. Does anyone even know why we exist as an independent nation in the first place? Don't get me wrong, I love my country. I love what we are supposed to stand for, and I stand behind those ideals. But the meaning seems to be lost to so many people. I hate being political, so I'll stop. I'm not just talking about party affiliation and all that shit. I rarely ever do because I just don't believe in political parties. Maybe if it worked like it did in other countries, but hey we're so fucking obsessed with binaries here that we might as well weave them in to every aspect of our lives. Argh. My life is ridiculous. I hate it, and I love it.
I would never want to be anyone else.
I've tried to make that as clear as possible, but I guess some people will never understand. I'm fine with that. Just make the effort.
The only thing I ask of anyone is effort.

So This is My Life

I spent a good four hours on the phone last night, in the middle of the night. I'm pretty sure my parents hate me. How could you not hate someone that you believe has destroyed your life? After all the things that were said last night, I just don't know how to feel. I don't even know if I can say any more than I have and still make sense. Last night was such an emotional and physical blur. I'm barely functioning today. I missed a class this morning. I woke up 4 or 5 times in the middle of the night, wallowing in sweat and struggling to breathe. I'm supposed to be in class right now, in the lab, but I'm not. My brain just isn't capable of it. I feel like my life is just in a million pieces right now. I didn't need this to happen on Thanksgiving. But now that it has, the worst thing to do is avoid it, which is what I tried to explain to my mom last night. I'm pretty sure that they're not coming out here. In fact, I may never see them again. It's terrifying. I still love them, though I'm not even sure how that's possible at this point. How many times can I be called an idiot and an asshole before I realize that this is all there is? If that's what love is, then I've been misinformed this whole time. I just can't stand listening to them say all these things about my friends anymore. I can't stand the radically conservative bullshit that they spew at me. I wonder if they even listen to how ridiculous the things they say are. This is kind of what makes me want to kill Glenn Beck. I hate when people try to guilt me into things. My mom thinks that everyone is going to laugh at her. She asked me about what my friends would think. I told her. I also told her that if any of them reacted that negatively, then they really aren't my friends. Then when she told me she was going to take the car and drive it into a wall and then just hung up the phone and wouldn't answer at all when I called back three times in a row, I fucking freaked out and couldn't stop screaming. I didn't know what to do because I didn't know what she would do. And now I'm just so afraid to ever go home. I'm so afraid of what will happen if I'm even around my father. My mom may end up hating herself for this, but my dad will end up hating me, if he doesn't already. Yes, I really am afraid. I'm afraid that he'll do something. I'm afraid that I'll let him. And I'm also afraid that I won't. Of course, this is nothing that I can prove. And it's so much more complicated than I'm making it out to be. What can I do when they are just unwilling to try to understand? Yes, that's what they said. The only thing I can do when my father talks is just let him. Even when he asks questions, I don't say anything. And he just keeps on screaming. It clearly doesn't matter what I say. I've learned that sometimes the fight isn't worth it. And maybe this is going to be one of those situations. Maybe I should just give up trying all together. Maybe I have destroyed things. Maybe there is nothing else that I can do. Well, I could just start pretending like it's not happening and lie for their sake like I have been. But I am past that point. I'm past living for them alone. I need to live for myself. And this is killing me. I love my family and don't want to lose them, but if I lose my soul in trying to save a relationship that is only going to be damaging and potentially dangerous for me, I don't think it's worth it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I need to send a letter to my brother before my parents get to him. I need to go see him myself. But that alone terrifies me. I can barely travel Pittsburgh without having some transportation fiasco occur. I'm running out of time. I've been here for two hours and haven't gotten anything done at all, and I could have listened to an entire neuro lecture and gone over the notes in this span of time. I need to talk to people. I need to get this shit done. I'm going to be awake all night. But maybe this is what I need. Maybe I just need to immerse myself in school because this is all that I have left. And who knows? Maybe I won't have that for much longer because I don't know how I'm going to pay for all of this shit if they decide that they don't want to help me anymore.
Message to Mom: If you are reading any of this still, please consider what I'm saying. It's easy to be pissed off at me for things that I am saying here, but why not consider that there might be some truth to them? Why not take what I'm saying and examine it instead of just getting angry and calling me disrespectful and ungrateful? Why not consider that what I'm saying might actually be worth something and that I do know what I'm doing and what I'm talking about? Is there really that much harm in trusting me? You say that I'm only 21 and that I don't know anything at all and that I'm ruining my life. I'm not. I know who I am, I know what I want, and I know that this is going to be one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me.
I wish I could say more. But I need to go to at least one class today. And this is a class where I don't even have to use English.

Grown-ups Should Not Have Access to Facebook

Nothing ever happens the way you plan it. It seems that the more you want something to happen a certain way, the less likely the event is actually going to occur that way. I'd been working up the courage to tell my family this whole time. I've been laboring over all the things I wanted to let them know and preparing for any questions they could throw at me. At the same time, I was preparing for the worst. It always seems to happen for whatever reason, so it's become a habit of mine to at least be ready for it. I was in bed with her, just lying there being lazy on a Saturday afternoon, so happy to be where I was. We had just come home from a two-hour long interview with a girl doing a project on the life of a drag king. I was feeling so contented and affirmed as a human being. Then out of nowhere, I get a text from my mom saying that we haven't talked in a while. I sent her a message back in agreement, along with a little sad face icon, trying to lighten the mood. I knew I would be in trouble when I got her next text: "I don't even know you anymore." This is one of those phrases that sets off all the alarms in my head. It's one with which I'm very familiar, and I just knew it'd be used against me in this particular circumstance. I had to play it safe, though, just in case she had no idea. So I asked what she was talking about and if everything was alright. I don't know how it happened, and I have no idea why my mom was snooping around, but she saw my facebook page. She noticed that my name was different. But I really don't know how much else she was able to see. The only thing I could do was call her. That conversation lasted for somewhere between two and three hours, I think. I barely remember any of it. I was panicking the whole time. It took me a lot to get my brain and mouth to function together, and I don't think I would have had enough left in me to pay attention to myself anyway. She hung up on me once. I waited for her to call back. She hung up on me a second time. But she didn't call back that time. She wasn't screaming. I know that I just broke her heart. But everything she said to me was so accusatory. She started blaming my friends. "Which one of your idiot friends talked you into this?" It just seems that she can't fathom that I can make decisions by myself or that I actually take the time to think about the things I am doing before I do them. She really is the one who never changes her mind, who never grows as a person. I guess she just doesn't get that other people do. I swear that Fox News is the worst thing that has ever happened to my family. She kept saying that she's lost her daughter--that all she has left are memories and that I just obliterated her daughter. She started talking about things that she'll never get to do with me, like shop for a wedding dress. I almost wanted to scream at her that it's not like I'll be able to get married anyway, but I used my better judgment. She talked about not being able to do girl things together anymore, like shopping. That was the only example that she gave, and I just flat out had to tell her that I would still love doing that, and there is nothing about me that's going to change. She kept accusing me of trying to be a different person and pretending. She started saying that she must be a really horrible person for all of this shit to happen to her. Like I haven't heard that before. Like I haven't said that myself before. I screamed at her at that point, saying that she couldn't use that excuse to guilt me into anything anymore. "How can you think that this is a good thing?" My mother is a woman who adamantly refuses to understand the distinction between sex and gender, even though I have explained it before. She also said something about having her heart broken finding out that I'm a lesbian. I flipped out then too because I am not a lesbian. I have never once used that word to refer to myself, and I just kept wondering if she was even paying attention when I came out to them for the first time. She talked about my trampling all over her thoughts and beliefs, and she wouldn't even explain that further, so I have no idea what that was about. She said so many things that hurt me. She said so many things that do not bode well for the future. Well, the first thing she did was accuse me of ruining her holiday, with something like "Happy Fucking Holidays, right?" She talked about how the whole fucking situation blew up last time, and I pointed out that maybe it wouldn't have if she would have just let ME come to her about it when I was ready to. Silence again. There was so much silence. The awful kind. She was just refusing to say anything. Or maybe she had nothing to say. When I asked her if she would consider talking to someone who knew more about it, she said no. When I asked her if she would like to look something up on the internet to learn more, she said no. When I asked her if she wanted me to send her something or give her something, she said no. She has no interest in understanding what is happening. "Do whatever you want, alright. I just don't care." That's perhaps the worst thing you could say. She kept asking me why it was so important for her to understand it or talk to me about it or accept it. I gave the same response that I had given numerous other times in the conversation: "You're my mother! ...And you're my friend." I just can't help but think that it's all about her. She admitted that she's worried about what other people will say. She admitted that she doesn't want to change her mind and that she wants to pretend that it's not happening. The first thing she mentioned about it when I asked her was how uncomfortable it made her. She talked about losing her daughter and her memories. HER. It just doesn't matter to her if this is what's going to make me happy. She asked me what I wanted from her--what I expected from her in letting her know this. I freaked out. But I told her what I wanted: The love and support of my mother. And you know, even if you didn't agree with it, you could have been like I'm hurt, but I'LL TRY. That's all I really want from my family. I want them to try. I want them to be a part of my life. I love them. They mean everything to me, and how can they expect me to keep this from them or expect me not to want them involved in something that means this much to me and for me? How can I go through this without them by my side? I just don't understand her unwillingness. Is her love for me really conditional? She just kept yelling at me, "You're not a guy! You're not! You're just not!" I just don't know how to handle this. I'm not freaking out right now, though. I wasn't for very long. Part of me was prepared for this. A large part of me knew that this was going to happen. I don't feel like things are going to get any better. My family doesn't do that sort of thing. Except for my brother. Before my brother got arrested, all prisoners were evil, horrible people that couldn't be trusted ever again. They have a completely different view on it now and proclaim their message to the world. When it first happened, my mom was all over the internet looking for resources and talking on message boards and all that crap. Before I came out to them, the gays were always the other people, and though they never explicitly stated it, the way they spoke about them indicated that they were inferior and immoral. Well, after I came out to them, their feelings are still the same. At least, my mom's are. My dad seems perfectly okay with things because I just don't think he gives a shit. My mom didn't go on any message boards about that. She didn't try to learn any more about it from me or anyone else. She pretends that it's not there. But you know, that's really not going to work this time. There are things that she just can't ignore. At the same time, she thinks that those things are going to completely change who I am. I asked her what she meant when she said that. She mentioned my voice, the way I look, the hair on my body, etc. Not once did she mention a core quality of mine. Nothing about my personality or character or the person she raised me to be. She only mentioned external things that are visible to her and to the rest of the world. That's how she defines me. It seems that I'm nothing more to her than what she can show to everyone else. And that really fucking hurts. I know she's more worried about what this will do for her reputation or whatever. I just don't understand how she could have raised someone like me. I don't get how she could tell me to be so tolerant and tell me that I could be and do whatever I wanted. Maybe she didn't mean any of those things after all. I hate growing up. It's all about realizing that the people you admired as a kid aren't so great after all. My mother used to seem like the nicest person in the world who would do anything for anyone that asked. But now she just seems so hateful and cynical. I really don't know what to do about this. I love my mother and the relationship we have, or used to have, I guess. I used to be able to talk to her about everything. I never kept anything from her. Now I feel like she wants me to. I feel like she is forcing me out of her life because she can't deal with the person that I've grown into. I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm growing more comfortable with myself all the time, and I finally know what I want for myself. And she hates it because it isn't normal. She hates it because she can't brag about what a beautiful little girl I am anymore. I wonder how long it's been since she's even shown anyone a picture of me. I wish I could have supportive parents. I wish I could have people who really do love me for who I am instead of what I look like or what kind of trophy I can be for them. "Look what an awesome, smart, talented kid I was able to raise. Look what I did." As much as I understand this, I also need to point out that my musical talents didn't come from them, my grades were my own doing, and my athleticism wasn't just purely genetic--I had to work at it. What I wish they could see is the kind of person I am inside and be proud of that. I wish they could be proud of the way I treat my friends and the way I feel about humanity. I wish they could be proud of my desire to save lives and to heal. I wish they could be proud of the character they have developed in me. But you don't get diplomas or medals for those things. You can't hang them in the living room for all your annoying relatives and acquaintances to see. I have so much shit to rant about tonight. I'm sorry for that.
I had so many things planned for today. I was going to study. I was going to practice a lot and memorize all of the music, which I'm still going to do, but now I won't get any sleep. I was just about to go to the gym when I got that phone call from her, and when I got off the phone I was way too dizzy to get myself to the Pete and underneath a barbell. My whole day was thrown off course, and we all know what that does to people like me.
I want to know what this means for Thanksgiving. Are they still coming out here? But I worry that if they do, my mom is just going to be miserable the whole time and blame me for it. I don't need that. I really can't handle that right now. If that's what is going to happen, they shouldn't come at all, and I need to find a way to get to my brother. I need to send him the letter I've been working on. Maybe if I explain it to him in writing, he'll be able to talk to my parents. On the other hand, he could respond in exactly the same way. I'm really afraid of that. My brother is even closer to me than my mom. We seem like two parts of the same soul. I don't know what I would do if he never talked to me again.
The saddest part of this is that even if they never talk to me again--even if all they ever do is send cards and occasionally say hello to me, even if our relationship is completely fucking destroyed because of this--I know that I'll be okay. I know that I have the strength to go on. I know that I have a group of friends who love me and will never let me go. I know that I am wanted somewhere in this world. It just sucks that it may not be in my own home. I might lose my family. I'm terrified of it and would do anything I could to prevent it, but that's a very good possibility. But I can get through anything. That's what I've learned through all of this shit in my life. That's what THEY taught me, for Christ's sake. It's so terribly depressing that this might be the way I have to prove it. I don't know why this has to happen to me. I don't know why they have to react like this. I don't know what purpose it serves me. But I know that I will be okay in the end. I always am. As much as it sucks to know that and not be able to get to that point right away, I can see it in the distance, no matter how things turn out. It's 11:11. There's only one wish I can make tonight.
I was honest with her tonight. Completely. I couldn't dance around anything. She just has no idea what this feels like, and to have her totally dismiss and negate all of my feelings is painful. I tried to explain. She didn't understand. She's not willing to, and that's obvious. I don't know what I should do. I don't know if the next move is supposed to be mine or hers. And I don't even know if there is one. I might be spending the holiday by myself. It's not that I'd have nowhere else to go. It's that I wouldn't feel right intruding upon another family. I'd feel out of place. I'd feel like I'm spoiling quality time with the family. And I'd probably just have a break down in the middle of dinner anyway after realizing that the last time I had a Thanksgiving meal at home with my family was 5 years ago and that I may never have another one again. I don't think I'd be able to deal with that. It might be better just to spend the day catching up on some work or going for a run through the park. I really need to know what's happening with this.
Sometimes I feel like God doesn't want me to do well in my Functional class. First the flu, now this. I need to study. I need to do work. I need to look at my music some more. My head is in a million places. Why now?
Another example of my mom's selfishness: "Why can't you wait until after graduation so I can at least have that in my life?" I had no idea what she was talking about at first. She wanted to see her daughter graduate. And all this time I'm thinking: So it doesn't matter that I am going to graduate after completely raping the shit out of this academic system? It doesn't matter at all what I've done. It only matters that I did it while being a girl? It doesn't make sense to me. Am I just insane for not understanding this? Am I expecting too much of her in asking for her to TRY? Why can she only think about herself? And I really want to know why this had to happen tonight? Tonight was supposed to be easy.
I'm so annoyed with this. I don't have time to have a fucking crisis right now. I'd rather have my crisis during the break. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with this. Is someone trying to teach me a lesson in life skills or something? Am I supposed to ignore everything that's going on in my life just to get this shit done? How the fuck am I going to do that?
I don't even know what I need right now. I'm sitting here quite calmly, though that pissed off feeling is lingering, mostly because of the inappropriate timing of this all. My head is kind of spinning. I got very tired a little while ago, but now I'm wide awake and full of energy I have nowhere to place. Sometimes I really hate being a soap opera. But I guess this life is better than anything else for me. I really just don't want to be the cause of my mom's mental breakdown. What do I do?
Not much is making sense right now. I'm not even sure I am. I have so much random shit going on inside me that I don't know where to turn. I don't know if I should head across Oakland to see my friends. I don't know if I should make a stop at the Crew House to talk to people that I should have talked to at the very beginning of all this. I don't know if they would receive me well. They'd probably not have time for me. But I can't just assume that. Assumptions always get me into trouble. I'm right a majority of the time, but when I'm wrong, the consequences are usually disastrous, and I can't deal with any more of that either. Maybe I should clarify something. When I say I can't deal with things, I usually mean that I am fed up with them and need something to happen to change them immediately. I don't mean that I'm going to fucking collapse or do something to harm myself or others. That's just not how I roll.
I don't know what else I can say. But I'm afraid of what happens when I stop writing.
Why does that song seem so much more appropriate now? "Don't Let Her Pull You Down"
I need to lose myself in music. I may end up in a lot more places tonight.
If only the rest of the world knew how fucked up any other random individual's life was...
Alright.

112009 (not creative.)

I never thought I'd be that guy doing work on a Friday night. I slacked off a lot during the week because my mind was focused elsewhere, and after receiving a slightly bitchy email from a normally relaxed superior of mine, I had to get my ass in gear to finish some spreadsheets for her that were supposed to be done by the time I left the office on Thursday afternoon. Well, not only did I finish them, but I ended up getting a lot more work done for my project, so I don't feel that bad about it. But it still sucks that I had to say no to my friends tonight. I really wanted to go out with them. I couldn't go to Light Up Night because of the basketball game through which Liam and I had to suffer. Don't get me wrong, it was a good game, our team did well, and I love the players and Agnes, but we were both exhausted and had other places to be. Sometimes the beginning of the season can be a little lame, but the tournament trips are worth it.
I'm sitting at the table in between Posvar and David Lawrence, and I see people walk through here from time to time and wonder what the hell they could be doing here as well--why they aren't out having a blast as the city of Pittsburgh prepares for a holiday season by getting schwasted in the streets.
I am excited for Sunday, yet I am pretty terrified for the Functional exam I'm going to take on Tuesday. The actual exam was on Friday, but I convinced my teacher to allow me to take it a few days later because of my being extremely ill and missing a lot of class at the beginning of the exam block. Now I'm not so sure that these extra days are going to help me at all. I have only done a little bit of studying for a massive test, and it's not like Sunday will be helpful to me. I'll be dead when we get back here, even if we are getting out earlier than we did last weekend.
Speaking of that. I might have forgotten to mention that last weekend, a few of us from Pitt Drumline went out to audition for Elements Indoor Percussion in Ohio. I was with the snares for most of the day, but after dinner, one of the guys in charge came up to me after we warmed up outside for a little and asked me if I wanted to go inside to work with the basses. He explained to me that they needed someone who had snare chops to play bass one. I'm not going to lie. It was really exciting to hear that for several reasons, and it was the chance for me to do something completely new and awesome. I jumped at the chance, and I've been working for the past week to improve my technique. That's really what I need to focus on because splitting parts is something I'm already pretty good at. Anyway, I just got some of the show music today, which pumped me up even more for the upcoming day in Zanesville.

My arm is starting to go a bit numb from being elevated like this at the computer for about 2 hours. I'm sure that's not healthy.

This semester is almost over. The time is drawing closer when I need to make the grand revelation to my family, as well as to a few more friends. The senior game is coming up, and even though I am coming back to march next year, this will be the last time my freshman class takes the field together. It's been an honor and a pleasure to march with these guys, even though we've all had rough patches with one another in the past. I have a very unique relationship with these guys, and it's one that is rather difficult to explain to those outside the line. I went through band camp with these guys, enjoyed and experienced the "extracurricular activities" with them, and have spent the majority of my free time playing and partying with them. Even if you don't become best friends through things like that, you certainly learn a lot about everyone. These people are my family, and like all families, we are with each other for better or for worse. I know that I have said a lot of random dumb shit in the past, but who doesn't bitch about things when he's angry or upset? Even temporary feelings deserve some sort of validation because they arose out of something, and they are there for a reason. I have a lot to say about my class and the drumline in general, and I just don't feel like this is the place for that. It's not that I have negative or hurtful things to say at all. It's that some things don't carry as much meaning across the boundary of experience. There are things among us that will never leave our circle because of this gap, and that makes those things even more special.

I really don't know what to do right now. I feel like I should keep studying for Neuro, but it is Friday night, and all of my friends are getting drunk at a gay bar. On the other hand, I could memorize more of this music for Sunday. I feel like I have a lot of energy right now, which is strange because I had none during the second half of the basketball game, even though I took an hour long nap beforehand.

Blah. I suppose I just hate having to go home to isolation. It's not that I don't enjoy time by myself. We all need that, of course. But I don't like living alone. At the end of the day, you should always have someone there for you, even if that person is upstairs sleeping in another room when you get home. I guess living with someone is some sort of physical manifestation of your friendship. It's a sign that somebody WANTED to live with you--cared that much about you. I'm sure there are other things that it means to me, but those are just the few that come to mind most easily right now.

Last night, I had a conversation with a person who is most likely the most fucked up human being I have ever met in my life. It made me realize how happy I am to be who I am and to have the outlook on life that I do. My philosophy of life really doesn't seem all that crazy or stupid in juxtaposition to this girl's. I shouldn't really say that. I mean, would I want someone to judge my life philosophy? Actually, yes. If something I am doing doesn't make any sense, is completely irrational, and threatens my own physical and mental well-being, I'd like to think that someone out there would say something to me. I wonder how some people can be so selfish. I wonder how they can be so closed-minded. I wonder how some people can be so oblivious to the world around them and to basic facts of human biology. It's amazing that some people who believe themselves to be so in touch with reality couldn't be further from it. I really hope this kid gets a wake up call some day soon. People shouldn't live that way, even if they claim they want to be depressed because it makes them feel smarter. I can't believe someone would so quickly equate happiness with stupidity. Finding happiness occurs through wisdom. I think I should stop talking about this before I get myself in trouble, but I'm of the general opinion that suicide is bad. Suicide is not the ultimate expression of taking control of one's life. (Keep in mind that we're not talking about people who have medical conditions and shit like that.) I think it's pretty much the opposite. Once you do it, you have no more control over your life. To me, the ultimate way to express that you have control over your life is to be literally seconds from committing suicide...and choose to live. At the lowest point in your life, you turn it around and say to the universe, "Fuck you. This is my life, the greatest gift that's been given to me, and nothing and no one can make me believe that my life is not worth it."
I think I can say things like this because I know what it's like to be at that point. I know what it's like to feel completely abandoned and like things are never going to be any better. But I trusted people. I trusted them when they told me that things would change--that they always do, and there's nothing you can do about it. I trusted my friends and family to help me through things I felt like I couldn't do. I kept going when all I wanted to do was run away. I kept walking through the door every day, and you know what? It does get easier.
Committing suicide is selfish for a variety of reasons, as a friend of mine pointed out. Obviously, there is the emotional shitbomb that's dropped on the victim's loved ones. But there's something else to it rather than just loss, and that's not trusting the people who care about you to actually take care of you. It's selfish to think that no one else can possibly understand you or help you. It takes a great deal of courage and humility to ask for and accept help, especially when you are at your lowest point, when you think that nothing in the world is going to help at all. But then again, that's when you have to trust that everything your friends and family have been telling you is going to benefit you. You need to trust that things to get better and that there are people there to make that happen for you as quickly as possible. Suicide is not courageous.
On the same token, I absolutely understand that some people literally don't have any close friends or family members. Some people do indeed have to go through a tremendous amount of shit alone. I'll skip the advice column shit here. I'm not going to tell these people what they need to do. I'm sure they've been told that before, and again, it's all about trusting that other people really aren't out to get you. My advice is not for these people. My advice is to the rest of the world. Please recognize that these people do exist. Please recognize that even the most charismatic, extroverted, jovial individual can be one of these people. But be especially mindful that those awkward, shy, lonely kids who go home alone at night might need a little more. Maybe all you need to do is laugh at a joke of theirs, even if it's not funny. Maybe all you have to do is have a 5 minute conversation about absolutely nothing in particular in order for that person to feel the power of human connection. Even things like that, which you might think are meaningless, matter. Sometimes when I'm having a shitty day, the best thing that can happen to me is to get a text from someone unexpected. The little things do matter. In everything. Paying attention to the little things is what makes people great. However, another attribute of greatness is the ability to see the bigger picture. I know it's trite as fuck, but sometimes you need to be reminded that sayings like that are valid. I guess this brings me to my philosophy. Balance. Equilibrium. Homeostasis.
It's not always about being stagnant. Homeostasis in the body is a dynamic process. Things get thrown out of balance all the time, and sometimes, this is a very good thing, like when your heart kicks into overdrive when you go out for a run, attempting to get more oxygen to your muscles. But everything always comes back down. Your life becomes balanced again when it needs to be. This is the way I think we should live. It's the way that I live, and I know that I fuck it up sometimes. But I'm trying.

Don't Let Her Pull You Down --NFG

You're living so far away from the truth
That you're believing in your own lies
It's no surprise that you sleep at night
Drowning in your prize

You made him feel so welcome
Make him forget about
The poison running through his veins
You may say that you love him

Now lie in the mess you've made

Listen to Your Friends

I wake up in a waiting room
With the taste of blood and a clouded view
I notice there is a tear in my jeans
the sleeves on my shirt have been ripped from their seams
My memory is a little bit blank
the thought of my name doesn't seem to come back
And I turn and scream "What am I here for?"
The nurses yell "You were left at the door"
I'm a stranger, someone left me for dead.
And I need to decide what to do next.

Oh just then I found a note in my pocket
It read "I don't ever want to see you again"
And I guess that explains
why I can't remember the rest of the night

I should have listened to my friends
I should have listened to them
when they told me you had bad intentions

Streaming Brain Version 2.0

I am not always right. But sometimes I am. The hard part is trying to figure out which time is which. I’m not worried. I am always trying to be better than I was the last time. Lately, that’s all that really matters. I’ve stopped caring about being better than anyone else, but I know that that can change from moment to moment, and I know there are certain times in life when we must compete, when we must thrive or die based upon our abilities to outdo the Other. I’m alone in my apartment. The fall semester does that to me. I feel a lot more alone than I do at any other time. I’m freest in the summer. I wish I could enjoy every day in the way that I enjoy the days of summer. I guess the continuity of the days in the summer is what really felt great. The ability for any day to be just like the others. Not as many classes. You can basically let the day run itself. You don’t have to force it to be something it isn’t supposed to be. Not every day is meant for studying. Not every day is meant for playing. Not every day is meant for working out. Not every day is meant to be “important”. I guess I know all too well about being the square peg in the round hole. It happens to me every day in one way or another, and I’m sure it happens to way more people than even realize it’s happening, and I think that’s rather unfortunate. It’s the same thing with the days. You don’t have to be any one thing in particular either. I’m getting preachy and I need to stop. No idea where I’m headed, and today is one of those days when I think that’s okay. I may have a panic attack about the same thing tomorrow. I’m being reminded lately of the relative importance of actions versus statements. Yes, you can say you believe something or believe in something or want something, but unless you back that up with actions, it means nothing. And it doesn’t always mean taking action against someone. More often than not, it’s not acting at all that sets people apart. If you say you’re going to do something, do it. If you say you believe something, prove it. You are not God. I do not have to take what you say as fact without demanding proof from you. I expect more from people than mere words, which are sadly thrown about these days. Do you remember when a man’s word was considered to be the strongest bond around? Promises mean nothing anymore because people don’t know what promises are supposed to mean. Am I an idiot for thinking that I should be able to trust people to do what they say and act based on what they say? I’m not naïve. I know that people don’t always do everything that they plan to. But I do know when people are making excuses for things that just aren’t as important to them, trying to save face for whatever reason. I appreciate honesty. I’d much rather hear that I’m not as important to someone as insert-random-thing-here than hear that I really am and that I’m just perceiving things inaccurately. I’m sure everyone knows what I am trying to say. Brutal honesty is something that I admire more than tact. Being tactful, especially with people you think should be good friends/family to you serves absolutely no purpose. You should be able to say anything. In working or productive relationships, it’s even more important. I need to know the truth to help me get things done. I really could care less if you like me or not, and believe me, this is not directed at any individual or group of individuals in particular. This is just a generalization that I’ve been pondering in light of recent circumstances. I am perfectly capable of working alongside people who hate me/whom I hate. We all need to learn how to do it. However, there comes a point when we need to admit to the other person that we’re not too fond of him. It makes things easier in the end. Word spreads quickly when people work very closely with one another, and things that are said spread more quickly than you’d imagine. You may think that people aren’t going to find out about the things you’ve said, but chances are you’re going to be wrong on that point. It’s happened to all of us. I tend to speak with the knowledge that people will find out about what I’m going to say sooner or later, and I’ve stopped caring about offending people. The people that really care are going to know when to take me seriously and when I’m just messing with people. I think one of the most important things I’ve learned in my experience as the token outsider (being cute here, guys) is that when someone brings up a concern to you, the worst thing you can do is dismiss it. When people are genuinely worried about something, the absolute worst thing you can do is say that those concerns are stupid and invalid. Something exists to raise those concerns. Something happened to make the person feel that way. And that’s the real issue that needs to be addressed. Assuaging the immediate blows is important too, but it’s not getting at the root of the problem. If I say something that makes you think I’m an asshole or that I’m wrong, I’m not just going to tell you that I’m not an asshole and that’s that. I’d want to know what I said that made you feel like that and if I did anything else. I’d start looking at myself instead of trying to project the blame onto someone else. I feel like it’s almost time for another dramatic topic shift. I can’t keep my focus on this because all of this seems so simple to me. It’s so basic. It’s the kind of stuff you learn even before you get to college and is hopefully part of the reason why you were able to get into college. College is never about you as an individual. College is about you in relation to other people. Life in general is about you in relation to other people, but I think college is when we start to realize that. High school is very focused on the individual, and we learn to be cutthroat and never to depend on anyone else. We’re taught to want it all and grab it all before the other kid does. That shit gets fucking blasted apart when you get to college. One person is incapable of knowing, doing, or understanding everything. I don’t admit to understanding everyone’s issues. I don’t admit that I understand why people are upset all the time or what causes people to flip shit. But I know that those things are often complicated and involve many layers of problems interacting with one another. Subjectivity.
My head is killing me. It’s been throbbing all day. I’m so excited to go back to the gym tomorrow. I haven’t been there since about a week ago, and that’s really fucking with me. I have a ridiculous attachment to working out. It’s done so much for me, and my body just craves that outlet. I can just keep pushing myself until I can’t go anymore. It relieves my stress. I think that’s one of the reasons why getting sick seems to affect me more severely. On top of the actual illness, I have to deal with the stress of not being able to relieve my normal, everyday stresses. Things just build up. That definitely happened this week. I had no way to get rid of that stress, locked in my fucking room around the clock. And stress alters the way you perceive a situation. Don’t think that your emotions don’t affect you, even when you are supposedly making a rational judgment. And many times there is more than one reasonable, rational explanation for something, and which one we choose to believe depends heavily on how we’re feeling that day. I’m not shitting you.
I never run out of things to say. I could keep going. I could talk about nonsense even. Flying toasters with capes and lightsabers and stuffed animals with interesting personality quirks that keep me awake at night or whatever. But I have to end this at some point. I never stop thinking. And I suppose that makes it hard for me to stop doing anything. You would think the opposite to be true. Sometimes I wish it were that easy to make changes. I might be losing my mind. I’ve thought about that several times in my life. But another part of me thinks I’m extremely aware of everything that’s happening and that I have a fairly accurate take on things. But that might be the crazy part. Who knows? I might be legitimately insane. Doesn’t that make you feel good inside? No, I really only say this because there are some people who would classify me as insane for reasons I haven’t even mentioned. It’s kind of funny how sane I find myself to be these days. I keep looking around at the supposedly normal people surrounding me, and I find a lot of them terribly boring, some of them sociopathic, most of them completely ignorant of the reality of things, etc. We all suck at different stuff, basically. Yes, most people would like to point out that we are all good in our own ways, but I like looking at it from the other end. We are also all not so good in our own ways. And I think it’s important to remember that we all have flaws and that we are going to fuck up, sometimes without realizing it. I actually have no specific situation in mind here, either. I’m really just rambling my ass off because my head hurts way too much to think about what I’m going to type beforehand. My head definitely hurts too much to concentrate on studying for this exam of mine tomorrow, which by the way is going to be horrendous because I haven’t been to class all week, so I have no idea what it’s going to be like. I’m so behind with shit that it’s insane. I wish I could just take a mulligan for this semester, but I’m doing well and don’t want to go through this shit again. Also, I definitely wouldn’t be able to afford that. Fuck, I’m worried about paying for the extra year at all. How is it that I don’t get more money from this fucking university? I think I’m getting a stye in my left eye again. Fuck my life. I can never sleep when that happens. My face is breaking out like mad. I can’t wait for what happens when that gets even worse.
A part of me thought about not posting this. But then I changed my mind. It doesn’t really matter. I read an unpublished post from a friend of mine today. Had he published it, we both would have gotten shit for it. Basically, sometimes people like to talk. They talk and talk about how important something is to them, but then their actions don’t reflect that. Sometimes it happens with student organizations here. You hear hype about what they are supposed to be. You get excited about it, and people within the group will tell you how awesome it is and has been and that there are so many awesome traditions and memories you will share and things you’ll remember for the rest of your life and it goes on and on and on. I am fortunate enough to have experienced groups where this is the case, but I have also been unfortunate enough to have experienced groups that fall short of the ideals they claim to embody. It’s sad. It’s hypocritical. But I do know that there are people trying to keep the spirit alive. It’s not dead yet. And I know people who are really trying to bring the good stuff back. And no matter which group I’m focused on at any point, I really want to be one of those people who has the right idea in mind. I’d like to think that I know what should be.
I’ve been writing for a ridiculous amount of time now, and I really should charge my phone. It’s been a while since I’ve just written though. I can’t complain. I really enjoy having this much to show for the thoughts that are going on in my brain. I really am not motivated to do any work right now, which is awful because I am so far behind on everything. I do not look forward to work this week. I didn’t go at all last week, and I have nothing to show for that amount of time. Blar. Everything only ever happens all at once. And thank you, Roberto, for the infinitely wise statement: Almost never does something always happen. Wow, those two statements could get you into a seriously circuitous train of thought. That’s why I don’t deal with philosophy that much. Not too practical, really. Sometimes it’s fun as a hobby, but if I made that shit my life, I think I’d have to end it.
I wonder if I have any more medicine in this house. Bitch all you want. Shit was weak. Wow, no one is going to get that. But if someone manages to glean some sort of information from that, then the person might be guilty as charged. Dude, I’m seriously not right in the head, but it’s becoming kind of fun and poetic so I might as well keep going.
I need to find a good time to bring up the other important things that have been happening in my life. Maybe there’s a way to connect these two big things together. I feel like they have a lot to do with one another. Roar.
Forgive me for roaring. I’m not actually a lion. But I am a Leo, so I might be. It certainly explains a lot about my personality. But I’m more of a chameleon. It’s a long story, and you probably don’t care about how we came to this conclusion. But it makes sense. And I actually do know someone who is pond scum. Three guesses. We’ll have to convene a meeting of the Unicorn Society if we want to talk about it though.
I think I’ll stop. I really just don’t get bored. That’s going to be a useful skill later in life.
I am very happy with myself for not acting out all of the irrational anger responses that cross my mind, especially those that involve throwing furniture across the room lol
Hooray for self-restraint!
Period. Exclamation Point!
C
O
L
O
N
:
(descending colon lol)

The Finger to the Blind Man

Here’s to the bigots that keep my
blood boiling when it boils down
to it
what I want is for them to bleed but
people say I’m better than that
people say
so many things and that’s how we got into this mess
and what’s so wrong with wanting
the scales balanced the score evened
wanting people
to just grow some balls and
fight me
like a man
not with fists but with logic and justice
and fucking human decency
accountability
big words for small brains
big words
that don’t mean anything to anyone anymore just
fucking
words as symbols for a generation
obsessed with political correctness personal image and
no
fucking regard for
what is right
what is decent
what is noble
what Matters
big words from the dead language of brotherhood
common bonds and just
being together
I do remember when we all spoke
the same language
even when we all spoke
to one another
and mourn the loss of
something
that might have been worth
something
to us

Random Thoughts

You aren't the only one who is tired of playing the game. Maybe I keep doing it because I think that I'll win someday, but I've been losing thus far on multiple levels, and maybe the fact that I said something last night instead of just letting it slide was a really good thing. You're right. I need to talk to people about this, but I'm still afraid that people are going to keep saying that nothing is wrong and that I'm insane for even thinking that something could be a little off. Last night shouldn't have happened, and maybe that statement applies to more than one occurrence. I know it bothers you when I talk about it, and I wish you would have told me that a long time ago. It might be as simple as not mentioning it, not letting myself get worked up about it by trying to solve the same puzzle in the same way over and over again. I'm not saying that I wouldn't talk about it with anyone at all. I'm just saying that maybe there's no room for it in our conversations anymore. I don't like to upset you, and I never intend to bore you with the same old story. But I can never shake the feeling that this is all somehow my fault, and it takes a lot for me to entertain the idea that maybe I never did anything to deserve this--that sometimes shit happens and people suck for no reason. So I don't know. I really didn't know what to think when you walked away from me last night. I'm still not sure what to make of it. We don't get mad in the same way. I suppose that I don't get mad in the same way that most people do. I'm incapable of staying angry at someone, and I tend to forgive people very easily, arguably too easily. I let it slide all the time because somewhere in my mind I think that everyone deserves as many chances as he desires, but now I'm realizing that some people have never apologized nor asked for another chance. But I give them anyway. I let everything fall on my shoulders, and that's just not good for me. But I don't know how to make this clear to other people. I don't know how to make it reflect the situation accurately. I don't want this kind of thing to keep happening, and I know it's going to unless I do or say something to everyone. Well, almost everyone. I'm sure there are some people who are beyond hope. And even in typing this, I feel like I'm doing it again--like I just keep saying all of this without really knowing what I can do. I have a small idea in my head, but I feel like there are so many other issues that I need to resolve, so many other things or maybe just one big thing that I need to say, that this seems like a minor glitch. However, maybe it's more important. I'm not sure where my priorities should lie, and when stuff like this happens, I'm hesitant to even talk about something that major. It is getting really confusing for me though.
I don't know. I say that way too often to be as "smart" as I am. I wish I could be all fuck-everyone-else all of the time. But sometimes I just need to know that I'm not on some fucking island by myself in the way that I do and see things. Sometimes it really feels that way, so I try to connect in the best way that I can. Not everyone gets this, and it's getting really frustrating. I've been doing my best to address things as they occur instead of letting them slide, but then the roles seem to reverse and no one wants to deal with anything. Argh, I feel like I'm talking to way too many people at once for this to have made any sense at all.
What else? I may not be able to grasp certain intricacies of facial expression all the time, but I learn over time what an individual's unique facial expressions are. I also learn what patterns of inflection and tone of voice correspond with particular feelings and moods. I'm not an idiot. And I don't just imagine these things. And I'm not the only one who has noticed, but naming names is for losers. Hey, I'm trying to be funny here because there's really no way I can be totally serious about it anymore. I don't think it's worth it to try to change some people, and if that's really the way things are, don't expect me to back off either. Back off on what? Being myself. I'm sorry if that makes some people uncomfortable, but you have to learn to deal with it. We all do.

Quote

"I have often thought that the best way to define a man's character would be to seek out the particular mental or moral attitude in which, when it came upon him, he felt himself deeply and intensively active and alive. At such moments there is a voice inside which speaks and says, "This is the real me." --William James

Sick as Fuck and Still Thinking

I didn't choose this ride, and I certainly can't choose to get off, unless of course I take the plunge over the railing, but that would be, well, stupid. But one of the remarkable things about the human condition is our ability to alter the ways in which we experience the ride. I can choose to hide my face in my hands and refuse to look at the world passing me by much faster than it seems it should, or I can choose to throw my hands in the air and scream to the heavens that this moment--the part of the ride just after the peak of the hill, just after the wheels have finished making that click-click-click, when the train is just about to fall back towards the earth--is perfect.
I'm sick as hell right now. I can barely sit up straight, and forget about seeing clearly. But as I have been writhing around all day in sweaty bedsheets and avoiding contact with the outside world, I really couldn't stand to keep doing it for several more hours. Apparently, my brain felt this even more strongly and decided to start pondering the details of transition in the middle of the night. It's really hard not having someone to talk to about this when the thoughts strike me. I'm worried and scared. And I don't know that I'm ever going to stop feeling that way, and I'm not sure that I'm supposed to anyway. I asked if calling me by my new name felt awkward, and she said no. It makes sense. Well, I know it makes sense. I mean, it's awkward for me sometimes because it is like any other change in life: You have to get used to it, even if it's something good and something you want. A part of me is a little afraid that I actually am getting used to it. It sort of feels like a leaving behind of a large part of myself. In abandoning my birth name, I feel like I am abandoning the person that I have been. I feel like I'm expected to just forget about everything that has ever happened to me and start all over without any connection to the identity I have worked so hard to embrace. Confused? Well, I guess I should point out that my identity is not defined solely by my name. The identity is the thing to which the name refers. I might have to develop that point further at some other time, preferably when I'm not dying. Oh yeah and forgive me if I sound a little loopy at times.
It's pretty apparent to people who have known me for a while that there are many different facets of my personality--that I really do seem like a different person in circumstances. I definitely have a more timid and self-conscious side that stands in opposition to a more confident and charismatic one. It took me a while to figure out that maybe the timid side is what people see as Elise. It's usually the first thing that people notice. But the other part of my personality begins to show through after some time. And then some assumptions have to be shattered. I've been living so long with these two sides of self and have never really found a way to merge them. And I suppose I'll always be afraid of losing something, but then again, you can only lose something if you stop paying attention to it, and it's pretty hard to stop paying attention to yourself, especially in the middle of something like this. In fact, I've been paying more attention to myself lately, and I think that's been very good for me. I have to remind myself not to get lost in myself, though, because I may miss out on things. Anyway, I believe this transition is helping me make sense of all the pieces of me. I'm realizing the diversity of my own gender expression and realizing that my day-to-day life doesn't have to change so dramatically. I feel like I'll be calmer. I won't have to judge myself against something I know that I am not. I think I started to get a little off topic. Anyway, while the name change scares me and I have been a tad hesitant about that entire thing, I feel like it's actually been a very good thing for me, and it's allowing me to feel like things align, even though it is still a little awkward at times. It's funny, I feel like it is way more awkward with some people than it is with others. Sometimes it is most awkward with people who know me pretty well and less awkward with people who are acquaintances of mine, but there are some exceptions on both sides of that, and I'm really curious as to why. And then there are people who, when they speak any name of mine, just give me the strangest vibe, make me so uncomfortable in my own skin that I kind of want to run the hell away. But I always stay, at least physically. And maybe that's the problem with that situation because other people may not realize when I just mentally retreat into my own world. Definitely not what I want to be talking about right now. Wow my head is messed up now, though I am interested in what might come next if I keep going with this.
I don't line up with male or female all the time, and I suppose that I don't line up with either appellation all the time either. I'm trying to think of a good metaphor here, but since my brain has turned to pea soup, I'll have to steal one. Think of a color wheel. Hell, just pick one color gradient, let's say from the darkest red to pure white. Maybe not all of the colors in between red and white have names, and you don't really know how to distinguish them, especially the ones that lie pretty close together. In undergoing this transition, it's like I'm moving from one shade of red to another, a little closer to one end of the spectrum but not necessarily all the way. And maybe there isn't a name for that either. But at some point, you have to start calling the colors red instead of white or pink or orange-ish or whatever. So I guess that's a good way to sum up what's happening to me. I'm moving more towards that male end of the spectrum, and I'll be crossing that line that makes it easier just to say red (male) than try to come up with something that still makes sense to the whole world. When it comes down to it, I could care less if you call me male, female, or a toaster, because I could be any one of those things at any given time, and so can we all, if you think about it. But to stray away from that technical bullshit, I've never really had a mental picture of myself as woman/female. It's just never been the way I've thought of myself. It's not like any of that was active or anything. I just assumed that someday I would start to feel like a woman like everyone else and that things would be okay. But that never happened. And I always felt like there was some big secret that was being kept from me. It's kind of ridiculous how much this makes sense for me, but that doesn't mean that I'm not terrified. It's something that's unknown. That's always scary.
I feel like I might start to repeat myself soon. Oh well. That's probably going to happen a lot in the next few months. I keep wondering if a lot of these fears are coming from failing to meet the expectations of others. There is so much that people expect of me or have planned for me or that people think that I want out of life. And maybe I've wanted some of those things as well. I sort of felt the same way about coming out the first time. I felt that those typical American dreams of the future just disintegrated. It sort of killed me at the time, and there are times when I think about what I may be missing out on and get a little depressed. But when I really start thinking, I'm so happy that this is where I am with my sexuality because now I feel like the rest of the world is missing out on what I have experienced and what I have to offer.
And even though I'm thinking about this all the time now and am worrying like crazy all the time, I know that I don't want my entire life to be about my transition. However, I know that I'm the kind of person who will forever be in that state. I will never be fully male or female, masculine or feminine. I'm transgender. And I'm okay with that. I'd rather be that than be stuck with a label that doesn't always fit. But I'm going to choose the side I feel closer to, and I know somewhere inside that it's going to bring me peace. Anyway, to get back to my point, at some point I'm going to want to stop thinking about it and just be a fucking human being and live my life and have fun like I've always done. I don't see why there isn't any reason that that couldn't happen. I guess it's like getting a dramatic haircut/losing a lot of weight. For a while, it's all that people notice and talk about, but after some time, it just becomes another part of you.
There's so much to think about, and I am getting a little dizzy, but that's most likely from the pigs in my bloodstream.
I keep trying to figure out the first words I should say to my parents, the first words I need to write to my brother. I want to come up with a plan, and depending on how it goes when I do tell my family, I may need an escape plan. This needs to happen soon. It can only get more complicated the longer I wait, and that goes for every situation. This kind of thing won't be any easier when I'm in med school or out in the real world. In fact, this might be the easiest time of all. Above all, I have to keep reminding myself that things are going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.
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It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom
Anais Nin