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I’m not a martyr or a hero. I’m just a man who is tired of the fighting and bullshit.
"If you choose to be gay, you are welcoming the 90% of society that is against it to harass you, beat you up, and hate you. If you still choose to be gay, you should just take it and shut up about it. You don’t deserve to whine and cry about how you’re treated when you choose a lifestyle like that. You’re just asking for it, anyway."
I’m not sure I’ll ever be the kind of person who can just shrug off an outrageous statement like that. I’m no saint, afterall. If that wasn’t enough, he went on:
"Homosexuality is a sin. There’s no difference in the eyes of the Lord or in mine between being a faggot or a child molester or someone who engages in beastiality or murder. It’s all sin by choice and deserves eternal punishment."
Even I can’t calm the legion of anger monkeys at this point. But I’m not even angry anymore. This is just hurtful and shocking and horrifying. Not to mention, he’s paraphrasing someone else here. Which was the trigger for this discussion originally, but I wasn’t offended originally. That changed quickly when someone I thought I knew and loved started spewing vitriol and hate propaganda. The gloves not only came off, but things got down and dirty. I even went so far as to point out that my actions might be “sinful” according to certain groups or belief systems, but at least none of my actions violated any of the Ten Commandments - something Michael can’t claim himself. (Namely adultery, in the interest of full disclosure.) Not that I really want to spend all day comparing “sins” or mistakes with those around me, but I do make it a point to identify those of the people standing at the pulpit condemning others for being “sinners” in their eyes when they’re got their own closets full of skeletons and bodies and extra-marital relations to worry themselves about. He was unphased by this. Probably more shocked than anything that I wasn’t just nodding along in agreement or cowering back into my closet of shame and instead was confronting him head on and trading blow for blow. Until, of course, I had enough and saw no reason to continue either the arguement, debate, fight, or relationship. Then there’s his response to my ending it:
"This is so stupid. We’re not going to be friends anymore because of a difference of opinion? That’s bullshit. Where’s that tolerance you’re always demanding from everyone else? I can’t believe you’re going to end a 15 year friendship over a personal opinion."
Which is exactly what I did and have no intention of going back on. A difference of opinion? This… whatever I should even call it… is NOT simply a difference of opinion. If you can’t figure out why statements like those would possibly offend me, then you really don’t know much about me even though you continue to use that one thing you do know against me. Anyone making statements like these should not consider themselves a friend of mine, much less a lifelong best friend. There’s an entirely different category people that blindly and violently hateful fall into and you’ve definitely put yourself very firmly on that side of the line. You can’t be surprised that I’m not going to take your suggestion and take the assault laying down - be it verbal or physical. Making statements like those just welcomes escalation and I’m not going to associate with someone who hasn’t drug me out into the street and beat me to death yet simply because I haven’t stepped out of line and become one of those dreaded proud, silly faggots yet.
"Straight pride! Straight pride still exists!"
For the record, I would never declare any kind of pride. It’s ridiculous. But, that’s what I’m dealing with. Ridiculousness.
Because you’re that threatened by the existence of homosexuals. Because your civil rights have been withheld. Because you’re constantly the victim of a hate crime.
Because I just woke up one day and decided I wanted to be gay. Because I weighed the pros and cons of it all and simply decided I wanted this for myself. Because it’s all just a choice I can make or unmake at will.
No. No. No.
But, there are choices I can and will make. Choices I would have thought impossible to make until now. Some of those choices will be made for me. Like when my mother decided it was her life mission to out me to the entire family without my consent or awareness. Like when Michael’s brother completely stopped talking to me because some silly old bastard got temporarily suspended from his television show for making stupid statements in a magazine interview and that was somehow my fault - as if I personally called A&E and demanded retribution for my people. But there are choices I will make myself. Like not associating with anyone who believes - philosophically, religeously, morally, whatever way it can be justified - that I somehow deserve to be verbally and physically assaulted because of who I am. Like not tolerating the intolerance. Like respecting your right to your own opinion, but demanding the right to voice my own in response. Like no longer respecting you at all as a person after the final shots are fired.
I won’t go silently into that good night. And, if you’re coming to teach this silly fag a lesson, you better come ready, hard, and quick. I do not come from a peaceful people, gay or straight. I do not come from a silent nation of meek victims. I come from the fucking fire and rage.
I am the original anger monkey, the stray dog Alpha. I do not survive by the will of your good grace. You survive by mine. Remember that.
Start having a great life - immediately!
"Why are you being such a dick?"
Good question, subject and target of that facebook post in direct response to that facebook post coupled with my recent and increasing distance from said subject and target. We’ll call him Michael to eliminate further run-on, confusingly vague descriptions… and also because that’s his name. So. Good question, Michael.
Why am I being such a dick? Because I have one and I like them. The combination of these has proven a serious issue for certain people like Michael which lead to a huge fallout between us. Then he offered a clumsy apology of sorts. When that apology was not well received, there were several follow up text messages proclaiming “Fuck you and your high horse.” and “Go fuck yourself.” I ignored these. After about a month of silence on both sides, there were a few casual efforts by Michael to reopen the lines of communication. Nothing like an unexpected pregnancy to bring estranged friends back together, right? Not so much. My response was not at all the warm-hearted, empathetic embrace he expected. Too bad. That’s all you’re entitled to at this point.
I don’t care about you or your miserable life. Please, fuck off.
Burning bridges all damn day,
Start having a great life - immediately.
[ Originally posted on 04.25.13 ]
Before I put my bear suit on, go completely insane, and just generally make a fool of myself by making an embarrassing and public spectacle out of the entire situation…
I think I’m going to calm down and think it over for a few more days. I honestly don’t want to end up embracing my crazy DNA and allowing my anger to define me. There are so many other parts of me that are infinitely more interesting and worth focusing on. I already feel slightly better after the previous post.
Just know that I have enough dirt on you to bury you and all twelve of your split personalities, so I am not to be fucked with right now. Other than that, enjoy your temporary pardon - it’s the only one you’ll get from me.
[ Originally posted on 04.23.13 ]
I’m about to get very, very dirty. Gloves are coming off. I’m about to do something I have secretly sworn to myself for decades that I would never ever do.
Not exactly what I had in mind. Let’s try a scene from “Otto; or, Up With Dead People”, which is a movie about a homosexual zombie trying to find love while fulfilling his insatiable need to consume human flesh. Yes, this should be a little more fitting. I can feel it.
Perfection. So, what exactly is about to happen? [Deep breath. More of a sigh than anything.] Fuck. There is still part of me that refuses to believe that you are the total monster and horrible person you have proven yourself to be time and time again. But… I think I’ve been far too kind for far too long. I think I have forgiven too much of what can never be forgotten and that I’ve been too silent when I should have been screaming vitriol all along. For anyone in the dark, I’m about to severely damage - if not completely destroy - my “relationship” with my mother. Our past is complicated, twisted, dark, tragic, insane, and horrifying. All of which I’ve done a supremely great job at not even hinting at much less reviewing and broadcasting to the anonymous viewing audience of my various blogs.
Well… That’s about to change.
Over what I anticipate will be several posts and the better part of a week, I will be examining the past I share with my mother. This will not be easy and it will not be pleasant. I think, however, it is now necessary. I have held back for as long as I could. As time passes, I lose more and more reason and cause to do so. All of what will follow was inspired - or perhaps provoked - by the following image from the internet (posted by my mother on her facebook page) and the comment exchange attributed to that image posting between my mother and sister - and very briefly myself as well. All of which I will share with you now before proceeding. Please note that it is not the image in question that I take issue with. What I take issue with is the mentality and philosophy of the poster of said image as demonstrated in the comments and the posts that will follow over the next few days. But for now, here’s a preview of the issue I’m about to address. Here’s my mother for you.
[The comment section for the above image on my mother’s facebook page as of time of posting.]
Sister: And how do they feel about divorce?? Ha
Mother: depends on how unevenly “yoked” you are….if a Non believer wants out of the marriage and there can be no resolution it does state that a Christian has to let them go…..That is Biblical….
Sister: Only w adultery, thats it. And a remarriage is still adultery, so they say.
Mother: Did Jesus not forgive the woman at the well??
Myself: Noted. Thank you.
Sister: So he only forgive ladies?
Mother: hmmm…..sounds to me like You want an argument of some kind….so I would just suggest reading the Bible a little more….I thought you were currently attending church or am I mistaken??
Sister: I think ppl wanna use scripture to exclude certain groups. And thats not whats it for. Would jesus put this on his fb page?? Uh i think not
Sister: How could u post this and not get a fight?
Mother: That is your opinion and you are entitled…I believe He would post it….and it is not about fighting it is about Biblical truth…
Mother: Yes, I still love you or did you miss that part too??
I decided to limit my presence in this exchange for a number of reasons. First of all, I’m no expert in the bible, Jesus and his teachings, religion in general, or even status quo morality. My sister is much better versed in all of that. There’s also the fact that I could watch these two go at each other for days. It’s very entertaining and thrilling. I’m entirely proud of my little sister for taking a stand and attempting to debate with my mother. Also, I wasn’t really surprised by either the image or the fact that my own mother would decide to post it. It is her right and opinion and blah blah blah. I am very very aware that my mother does not accept or embrace my sexuality. I didn’t either for the first thirty years of my life. I can relate completely. So, I wasn’t surprised. So, I stayed out of it. I did, however, post my own status update to express my own opinion about the situation.
No one is coming to my wedding. I’m eloping.
This status update was “liked” within seconds by my mother. I think that is the moment when I had my moment of clarity. No matter what, my mother won’t be at my wedding. I won’t invite her. She wouldn’t come if I did. If I even ever decide to get married or even can by that point. It could be entirely legal or entirely illegal by then. Who the fuck knows? Not the point.
The point is… I always knew my mother was a bitch. There was a time when she took absolute pride in that fact - maybe still does? But… That just makes me a son of a bitch. Right? Right. And what this son of a bitch finds impossible to comprehend or excuse is the fact that this woman - my mother, yes, but still just a generally crazy bitch at heart - has a very colorful, spotted, and often times illegal past which I have turned a blind eye to for my entire life or at least had the courtesy to keep my fucking mouth closed about. It’s interesting (make that ridiculous and sad) that someone who has been given the benefit of the doubt and an excess of clean slates would turn around, suddenly re-finding religion/God/Jesus/the Republican agenda/whatever, and use that as a soapbox to start hurling judgments and condemnations at those who forgave and excused her own transgressions throughout the years. And let me just say, for the record, that the number of her transgressions against me personally have been so numerous and ongoing that it will literally take me days and several posts to cover even most of it with any decency. But, I fully intend to do so.
Strap in, readers. It’s about to get turbulent in this mother. Anger monkeys have been deployed.
Start having a great life - immediately.
"Hey, Joshy. I’ve got this bottle of vodka. I was thinking of bringing it."
"Yeah, bring it. That’s cool."
I’m headed off to school for my certification in whatever tomorrow for the day job. It’s either water, mold, fire, or biohazard. I’m thinking water, but who knows. I was supposed to be going to a 5 day course in Indiana in December, and still might be, but it was too far out and the powers that be decided to send me to this 3 day course this week in Cleveland instead, or in the meantime or as a test to see if they should bother with the longer course. Granted, the powers that be have reason to be overly cautious about sending employees to get certified. They sent three last time: the two girls got food poisoning on the second day and didn’t end up even taking the exam and then both quit shortly after - one didn’t even come back from it, and the guy, dubbed Super Dick by all of his co-workers which I’ll get into more later, swore up and down that he passed the exam but the results came back and he failed it miserably - much to my unspeakable delight. So, I’m lucky they’re considering sending me at all, I suppose. I believe they’ll be delightfully surprised by the result. I’m not going alone, though. I’m going with the hippy. He won’t be bringing any alternative substances along aside from the vodka. I like vodka and I have been incredibly good all year long. I haven’t been carried out of any bars or passed out or raged until I lost my stomach contents or anything. I’ve been a very well behaved and sober boy all year which directly counteracts what a complete hooligan I was the year before that. I was a hot mess.
Anyway, I like the hippy. I don’t care that he likes his herbal remedies. He can have it. I’m not inclined, but I don’t mind. But, he will be doing without which is just as well. So, it should be a good trip. I’m not concerned about the actual certification and the off time should be fun. Even if I’ll be on the east side of Cleveland for three days. Although, I’ve come to like Cleveland possibly more than Akron which is saying a lot. Because we all know I love Akron. I’ve painted that town all kinds of colors.
I’m currently packing for the trip. I need to run off to the store for deodorant and bodywash tonight, but I’m taking very little else. I’m taking a few changes of clothes. I’ll be wearing the one pair of jeans I can still fit comfortably into. I might take the laptop or maybe not. Haven’t decided. I don’t know if the hotel even has wifi so it might be a waste anyway. Besides, there’s a lot of stuff on the hard drive that I wouldn’t want to share. But, it would be nice to stream tv/movies/music while we’re studying and boozing it up. I’m still undecided. I’m sure I’ll end up packing it as well just so I don’t get bored senseless. Three days is a long time to spend with another person in a small hotel room, company car, and classroom. I’m already anxious considering all that time. Fuck. I just talked myself out of my positive attitude about the trip. It’ll be fine. Probably.
Meanwhile, I worked 12 hours at the motel last night from 7pm to 7am. The day job called about an hour into it. Even if I hadn’t gone in early, I work every night, every weekend. That is a known fact. It’s not a secret. I signed up to volunteer my services and be on call for every weekend from October to January. I never get called in anyway, but I’m trying to get that extra money if I can manage it. The office admin was less than pleased when I told him I was already working and couldn’t respond to an emergency job despite having signed up to be on call.
"I know you work every weekend at night, so it’s probably not a good idea to sign up to be on call for jobs that will probably happen while you’re going to be working the other job."
"Alright. But I’m available all day, just not at night."
"You need to be available 24/7 on the weekend if you sign up to be on call. So, you should take your name off the list on Monday or I’ll do it for you."
Alright, you prick. I’ve been “on call” for three days, about to be four, and you call me at night knowing I have a second job I work at night. Whatever, fuck off. Take my name off. You can’t expect someone to live off 20 hours a week and just sit around at home hoping you call them in to work. I’ve been “on call” for two weeks now. I’ve been “on call” twice as many days as I’ve actually worked and the only time you call me in is when you damn well know I can’t do it. Even if I hadn’t gone in early, I’d still only have two hours until I had to leave for work at the motel. That’s not even enough time to commute to the shop and out to the job site, let alone back again. That’s fine. I’m going where the money is. If you don’t have the hours, my other job might and I’m working rather than sitting on my ass stressing out about the money situation. So, fine. I un-volunteer and you can get fucked. Don’t call me when there’s a job during the day on the weekend and no one else will come in because it’s the weekend and I’m available but you’ve been a total dick about me having a second job and not jumping at the chance to work for a couple hours on a Saturday night. I won’t be coming in. You can do some actual work and respond yourself, because that’s exactly how it’s going to play out. No one wants to work on the weekend. I did, but not anymore. Fuck it. And if I continue to be scheduled like that I’m sure I’ll be interviewing AGAIN for a second job. I’m not bothered. I’ll do whatever is in MY best interest. It’s insane that I’m actually getting more hours at my part time weekend job then I’m getting at my full time day job. That’s not how I want my schedule to work out. That’s the whole reason I took the second job and cut back at the motel. Not so I could sit at home all week “on call”.
It seriously took a lot of self control - not something I really specialize in, honestly - to not laugh at his little bitch fit when he realized his best shot at not having to work himself on a Saturday night was unavailable and wouldn’t be racing to his rescue. It’s even more hilarious because he had to know it would play out that way. Again, my working another job every weekend at night is no secret to anyone. Whatever. Take my name off the list and go cry about it. I’m still getting paid either way. Ridiculous.
So, school in the morning and I’ll be drunk by this time tomorrow. Sounds like a good plan.
Start having a great life - immediately.
I currently have a whole $60 in my checking account. That would be incredibly laughable but I’ve actually got more than that stashed away in my savings account and it’s pay day at the motel. After working an unexpected double last week, this should be a nice check for me. More exciting yet, I’ve got a full tank of gas and I’ll be away all week getting certified for the day job while using the company car. So, I’ll still have a full tank of gas next weekend and another (hopefully larger) paycheck coming next Friday. Very exciting. I’m also working 12 hour shifts for the next two Saturdays and I’ve volunteered to be on-call every weekend (except on the holidays) all the way through into next year. Whatever it takes to chase that paper and get these bills paid off.
I’ve paid off one credit card and closed the account permanently. I also paid off a long standing bill from Sprint from nearly a year ago. I would have liked to focus on one of the other credit cards, but the damn debt collectors were calling and harassing my grandmother repeatedly all day, every day. How they got her number and why they decided to call her rather than me… Well played, Sprint. Well fucking played. So, that’s sorted out. I just have to adjust my financial recovery timeline to account for that. I also have to seriously adjust my timeline to compensate for the fact that I’m not meeting the minimum hours I had planned on. Basically, I’m getting about 40 hours per week between the two jobs rather than getting at least 30, if not 40, at the day job and close to another 20 at the motel. That is frustrating. This is not going according to plan at all. Anyway, I’m hoping it’s just the winter kicking into effect early and slowing the in-flow of jobs and work at the day job. It’s already been like that at the motel for over a month. I’ve actually been enjoying that, honestly. I’d really rather not be bothered by all the insanity. I’ve been putting up with it all summer and I’m ready for hibernation now.
Meanwhile, the boss at the day job pulled me aside recently to ask if I liked the job, wanted full time hours, would be interested in going to class to obtain my certifications, and if I’d be able to start leading a crew/team in the immediate future.
Um… yes, yes, yes, yes. Seriously? Yes. Especially if that all equals more money and not just more responsibility, longer hours, and a massive headache.
I will do whatever I must to get full time at the day job and keep my financial recovery plan and timeline on schedule - or possibly expedite it. I do not plan on working both jobs into summer. I would seriously like to be able to quit the motel by, or shortly after, my birthday. But not if I haven’t paid things off in a very substantial way, if not completely. Probably not completely, but hopefully in a very substantial way. So, I am going to school/class in Cleveland this week to get my certification for the day job. I’m leaving very, very early Monday morning and coming back late on Wednesday evening. I’m using one of the company vehicles, staying at a crappy hotel (most likely), and I don’t even have to pay for meals. It’s the best. Easy money. As far as the test… Logic and personal experience dictates I’ve already passed it just having decided to take it. I can’t even recall the last time I failed a written exam. It might not have ever actually happened. No, I can’t recall ever failing a written exam. I can’t even pretend to be surprised about that, though. My brain is a brilliant machine. Point is, I’m not concerned about the actual certification exam. That’s the easy part. It’s all easy, really… as long as they have wifi in this crappy hotel/motel where I’ll be stranded for two days. Without that, it’ll be a nightmare. Even if there’s cable. Do people still watch live broadcast television? That’s bizarre, but I imagine they do.
Anyway, life is steadily improving and things are more or less on track.
Start having a great life - immediately!
I’m trying to focus exclusively on me right now. So, I’ve eliminated a lot of distraction. Namely, I’ve gone offline and deleted all my various dating/social apps. Because men are the root of all evil, of course. Or at least, they’re all more trouble than they’re worth. I would know. It will be quite an adjustment for me, but I can go back to being completely asocial and celibate just as quickly as I became omni-social and nympho. Besides, it all does get very, very, very tiring and boring. Anyway, one of my goals for 2014 was to do away with all that mess and I’m simply a few months ahead of schedule. I’d rather not be bothered with it over the winter anyway, especially considering I am usually the one making the commute to where the hell ever. I won’t be saving money on my car insurance, but I won’t be pumping my gas tank full nearly as often. That’s all good for the wallet. Enough about the merciful euthanasia of my sex life…
Nevermind that relationship I insisted was getting serious. It’s impossible to be serious with someone who can’t be open about their sexuality to anyone but you and behind closed doors in absolute secrecy and shame. There are closet cases and then there’s this whole other level of insane discretion that I hadn’t even imagined possible. I’m all for a certain level of discretion, but I’m not into this other disturbed kind of sexual espionage. Which is why I don’t like dating in the first place, it invites all sorts of bullshit and drama into a very simple and delightful equation while adding very little to the end result except gradually reducing it and my patience to zero.
Abruptly changing the subject completely, Fridays are my best and worst days lately. The pay checks for job 1 and job 2 are handed out bi-weekly and on alternating weeks, so I’ve always got a pay check from somewhere coming at the end of every week. It’s very exciting never being broke anymore. It’s only been a little over a month working both jobs now and I’ve already got the first of three credit cards paid off. Very, very exciting. I then will have two loans to deal with and a few miscellaneous unpaid bills here and there before I’m completely debt free. It might be a year before I’m that far along, but it shouldn’t be too much longer before I’m down to focusing on just one or two sources of debt rather than twelve or however many it is. Not really that many, but more than I’d like. I ended up working 20 hours yesterday: half a day at job 1 and a double shift at job 2. The remaining four hours of the day was split between commuting 2 hours total between both jobs and home and then of course showering and changing for both job with a little time for some errands. I’m getting very good at not sleeping on Friday and then making up for it on Saturday. It may have been the Friday before this one that I ended up working 12 hours at job 1 and my regular 8 hours at job 2 with the same time for commute and pre-work prep. I have given up trying to sleep at all on Friday. If I do manage it, it’s barely a nap and I wake up worse off than if I hadn’t. Speaking of which, last Saturday I received some text messages from Michael which were not well received at all. I’ll post that text exchange in an additional post. Again, men. Seriously, don’t contact me on Saturday. The anger monkeys screen all my interactions and respond in my name with a vengeance. I’m not to be held responsible.
I’m going to start going to the gym regularly tomorrow to address some other personal goals for the coming year. I’m even farther from reaching my fitness goals than I imagined. The clothes that I was wearing at the beginning of the year are no longer fitting and I have gotten rid of my previous wardrobe which was comically far too large to continue wearing but I am getting closer to being able to fit back into. Devastating as that is, it’s true. So, I’ll be back in the gym daily - except for Friday and possibly Saturday. We’ll see how it goes and I’ll adjust accordingly.
Just taking it one day at a time,
Start having a great life - immediately!
I am two hours in to my first random monthly Saturday/Sunday twelve hour shift at the motel. 7pm Saturday to 7am Sunday. All damn night. I’ll be spending half a day in this room:
I feel like I’m renting motel rooms in an alternate citrus-themed version of the Matrix. I’m actually - can not believe that this is even true or that I’m about to admit it - burnt out on the color orange now. Hence the layout change for this blog. There’s still some orange accents, but I’ve replaced 98% of it all with white.
It will be a long twelve hours, too. I’m now six hours in to my shift as I edit this post. I had already completed all my usual busy work and cleaning four hours ago. I’ve been watching television online since then. No customers in sight. I might have one or two an hour. Plus, I actually handled a few special projects yesterday night so I don’t have those to fill the time with either. It’s just going to be a long, quiet night here.
Oh, and if one more motherfucking person complains about the less-than-reliable-impossible-to-connect-to-almost-alleged-rather-than-existent wifi… I am going to lose my shit all over this beautiful, recently vacuumed/mopped lobby. Those have stopped now, thankfully. I don’t have many of those complaints past 11.
Anyway… silver lining is I will be able to catch up on some posts throughout the night. And the extra income. That’s about it.
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