Taylor Swift

Watched my first concert today with Shanon and her friend. It could have been worse, but Taylor Swift wouldn't have been the first person that would come to mind when it comes to someone I'd like to see live. Though Nicki Minaj really did steal the night with "Super Bass." It was fun; I'm glad I went

One day, I'll be able to make myself happy... without the aid of material things, or other people. Just myself.

I long for that day.

Bucket List #2

Before I die, I want to fall in requited love.

Losing

I was going to say that this kind of stuff only happens once in a while, but then I realized I'd be lying. This probably happens every other day.

So.

Every other day, I'll fall into this random... random pit of depression. It's weird. Almost always it's about being gay. I guess recently, I've come to pin point one problem I have yet to overcome.

I let them win.

You know, the homophobes, the ones with pickets and loudspeakers-- those guys. One thing they say always gets to me. No, it's not faggot, or "you're going to hell." When someone puts homosexuals on the same level as pedophiles and zoophiles and necrophiles and the like, I can't think of a single reason as to why they're wrong.

Sure, you can say "children don't understand love" or "animals don't know what they're doing; it's purely for procreative purpose," but doesn't that undermine the whole "accepting love in all forms" motto gays have come to adopt? I mean, homosexual relationships are deviant, just as any relationship in NAMBLA. I... I can't help but agree with them-- the homophobes. I identify myself with pedophiles and zoophiles and... and I let them win.

I mean, isn't the point of their damnation to make us hate ourselves? To make us want to change? To let us know that we're depraved? To tell us that there's something wrong with us? To show us that our pride in such sick lifestyles is shameful?

Well, they've won. Because sometimes, or a lot of the time, I believe them. Heck, as I was writing that up there, I believed what I wrote.

I feel terrible about myself. I thought I was really coming around to the whole "self-acceptance" crap, but really, who am I kidding? I hate myself. But most importantly, I hate myself for letting them win.

Bucket list

I've been watching The Burried Life, a show about four guys going around doing things on their bucket list, whilst helping others with something on theirs. Every episode, they ask the same question: what do you want to do before you die?

I guess this is a place as good as any other to write this kind of stuff.

#67 Go through the process of obtaining meat (raise an animal, kill it, cook it)

Hypocrisy

Maybe once I can answer this, I'll hate myself a little less.

Out of all of the stupid homophobic insults, one that always gets to me is "then you condone bestiality and pedophilia too, right?" I never quite understood how to reply to that. I mean, isn't the LGBT community all about "accepting love in all forms" or something like that? Then how can we say that the two said examples are morally wrong? To be entirely honest, I can't even come up with one sound argument as to why necrophilia or zoophilia are in any way depraved. Arn't we being hypocrites? I mean, people who look down on NAMBLA are just as bad as homophobes, arn't they?

I can't help but identify myself with zoophiles, and pedophiles, and the like. I don't know... I guess some part of me still sees being gay as... as wrong...

On a side note, I never thought I'd write more than 100 posts on here. Welp.

Training Wheels

Embrace yourself for another typical teenager-y post.

I'm going into my senior year. This is my last summer vacation of high school. I guess I just need a moment to let that set in. For others, this is almost the end of their education. I'm... worried. Scared. As usual. But it's kind of like when you're waiting in line for a roller coaster, and with every day, the line moves forward, and I get closer. But I guess that's not a fair comparison. I don't really expect the rest of my life to burn bright and die fast; quite the opposite, actually. I kind of think my life is going to drag on... that it's going to be boring, and my current mentality towards it only confirms it. I'm... worried. Even after talking to Ferson, I still can't help but be so... so frightened.

I have one year of highschool left. Well, less than a year. Is the rest of my life going to be like this? Or will it all change in a year? What am I waiting for? What am I going to do?

I fear the day someone rips the safety from under my feet.

You probably think this post is about you.

-“You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon’s playing in the car-

Dad: What does “vain” mean?

Brother: It kinda means you care too much about your appearance and and you think you’re hot shit

Dad: So like Jojo [what my family calls me]

I really hate looking at cards. I know people say “hate is a strong word,” but I hate it. It reminds me that there are people out there who truly do feel this way about their mothers, and brothers, and sisters, and friends, and fathers. And every time I walk this section in a drugstore, I can’t help but feel bad that I have a general dislike for most people.

I guess you could say my dad and I were never really “close.” He’s always thought I was a selfish, vain, conceited ingrate, and he does little to hide it. He’s almost always angry at something or someone, mainly because he thinks they’re incompetent, and if he’s not, he’s apathetic about everything. A lot of the time, I feel like a failure in his eyes; then again, I don’t do very much to try to please him. I’ve given up on that to the point where I don’t even make conscientious choices to please him. I mean, I know he could be worse. He could just not be in my life; at least he’s physically here, right? He could be abusive; at least he doesn’t “discipline” me anymore. He could be an angry drunk; at least he only does weed. But idk. I don’t want to say I hate him, but it’s more than simply disliking him. Heck, I can’t remember having very much small talk with him, let alone one meaningful conversation.

I guess the a pretty good test of how much I care about his is if I would care if he were to die. He was hospitalized around 6 years ago, and what I gathered from others was that he was at death’s door. My mom told me that if he were to die, we would move to North Carolina. That’s all that really occupied my thoughts. I didn’t seem to care about whether or not he would die, but rather the consequences of his death. I almost grew angry at what he would do to my friends, extended family in Boston, my education. Almost. But I knew I shouldn’t have and wasn’t supposed to, so I wasn’t. I cared, kind of. Kind of. But not really.

So would I say it’s great being his son? No, not really.

Random Post #7

You know, this whole self-loathing, cynical, pessimistic crap is getting really tiring. I mean, I know I do it to myself and everything, but I kinda don't get it. At what point in my childhood did I start to hate myself and everything around me?

Elementary school where I stared at the clouds during recess because I had no friends?

6th grade where no one I liked liked me back?

8th grade where I trusted Stewart by coming out, only to be outed by him later on? Where I started to like Tejeda but realized I wasn't better than Li?

I could go on, but that'd just be even more depressing. I just don't get it. (Warning, terrible simile coming up) It's like... being in some dirt pit, and with every attempt to climb out, it gets deeper as this stupid hole fills with mud. That probably didn't even make sense, but it did in my head. Anywho, this is a pretty friggin' depressing post. But I guess it's just how I've been feeling recently. I hate telling people about this kind of stuff not only because it's one of those day-ruining things, but I've heard so many times that no one likes a self-deprecating, self-loathing, weak person. Heck, I can try my hardest to make a facade of resoluteness and confidence, (which apparently works on my schoolmates) but really, who am I fooling? I hate myself. I hate a lot of things around me. What the hell.

On a slightly less eye-gouging note, I hate North Carolina. I hate it here. Everything is so far away, and there's no transportation. Sigh. Plus, I get really bad allergies here. I think it's all the lack of polluted Boston air.

I was talking to Fergson the other day about college. He advises I don't go to WPI, so I'm not really sure what I should do for a reasonable reach school. There's a very small chance I'll make it to Tufts, but a 40 dollar gamble I shall take. I really don't want to just go to a stupid UMASS school. I mean, I know they're not the worst, but I guess I just want to outshine my brothers. A little sibling rivalry never hurt, right? But even if I do make it into Tufts, I have no idea what major I want to get into. I guess my default would be Biology, but what the freak am I going to do with a biology degree? Should I take a pre-vet track? Should I try to become a teacher? Uhg. This angst about ruining my future is killing me. Maybe Fergson is right. I should find a boyfriend to screw it out of me.

Who am I kidding? I honestly believe that not a soul would want to date me. I mean, don't get me wrong. I'd love to go out with someone, but who would want to go out with me? Just look at the first paragraph. On top of that, how the heck do gay guys find other gay guys? I don't have a gaydar. I've never met any gay guys in person. Freakin' A, I can't even meet a gay guy online. Aw god. I'll just mark the end of this stupid, typical teenager-y post here.

Random Post #6

Turned 17 two days ago. I feel the same-- weak, useless, pathetic. I can't wait until I'm older. But I know me saying that I don't want to be those things isn't going to change a thing. Uhg. I don't know... I guess this is all pretty stupid of me. I want so many things, but I'm not willing to lift a finger to get them. I'm awkward. I'm scared.

One of those emo posts

I feel really empty. Like. hollow and unfulfilled.

There should be something I'm doing. Something I'm achieving. But I'm not. What am I doing with my life? What will I be doing with my life?

I'm worried.

I'm scared.

I'm unsure.

Somebody do something.

Faggot

I usually agree with Alexander. But one thing struck me as really really strange. She was telling me that she thinks accepting the fact that people use terms like “faggot,” “that’s so gay,” and “no homo” is all part of “coming out.” I guess since almost all of my followers are probably gay, take a second to take that in. Lemme give you some examples of what she means.

One day, some guy was singing this song that had “no homo” in it, and I stopped him right before he could finish and half-jokingly half-seriously said “what, Steven? [the guy’s name]” He started to feel bad that he was about to say it, and he asked my friend about whether or not I was serious about being offended. She spoke for me and told him no.

Today, actually, another guy was talking about a teacher that nobody really likes, and he was about to call him a “faggo—” until I said “come on now, Brian [the guy’s name, obviously]” My friend then goes and says to be right after my response, “Leroy!” in one of those what-are-you-doing tones.

Now, she doesn’t mean that part of “coming out” is that you know that people say things like that because I know people will/do— it’s that you should do nothing about it when people do say “faggot” and “no homo” and the like. Note that this is all coming from someone who says “come on now” when someone swears.

No.

I’m going to whole-heartedly disagree with you. I know that it’s a habit for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean that I should stand there and do nothing when people say it. It doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t express some kind of disapproval. I’m fine if they only don’t say things like that around me, and go on to call everyone “faggots” and say “no homo” because it’s only me who doesn’t want to hear that crap. Just like how you don’t want to hear people swear around you, I don’t want to hear people belittle my people. As a matter of fact, I think defending gay people is an obligatory part of coming out. So no, Alexander. You’re wrong. Your double-standards are ridiculous.

Perhaps it's just by juxtaposition, but I feel significantly more comfortable in my skin. I don't squirm and fidget on the inside as much. I guess things are turning around.

Is it wrong to lead someone on? I mean, I've never made it clear that I was interested in this guy... but I've been really flirty. But I'm not into this guy. Just the idea of being able to make someone fall for me is kinda flattering. Lol I sound like a slut.

I really hate doing assignments like these. They ask questions with no wrong answer other than a nonexistent one. I was told to write what I think people think of me on one piece of paper, and what I think is part of my identity on other. Being the self-pitying person I am, I couldn’t help but put a million synonyms for arrogant and boring. And Asian-American and male and student and atheist blah blah blah. You know, the boring stuff. But I didn’t want to lie to myself by not writing “gay.” I wrote it so it couldn’t be missed.

Alexander and I talk about school assignments all the time, often doing them together or helping one another. She actually came up with most of the characteristics for what others think of me. The next day, when the assignment was due, we talked briefly before class started, and she encouraged me to say what I wrote when asked for volunteers to share. You see, I usually only speak in response to teachers unless they’re aggravating; then I’d argue against every thing they say. But anyways, I didn’t really want to raise my hand to tell the whole class that I’m gay. I feel like there should be no reason for someone to have to tell people if they people probably wouldn’t care. I mean, you don’t go around randomly telling people what your favorite TV show is, right? So I promised myself and Alexander that I would say it only if I got called on. Like, shouldn’t there be no reason to deny the teacher if there’s nothing to be ashamed of? So I made a silent promise to myself. I could totally do it. I was ready. I think. As she goes around calling on people, everyone’s traits were so conceited and vain. Not an ounce of humility graced their papers. The room was kinda chatty like any other classroom with 28 students working on an assignment like this, but the teacher’s voice demanded attention as she called on people. The teacher knew I was gay as well. I mean, I’ve told her, but I was wondering if she purposely chose me (knowing that I wouldn’t have volunteered but wanted to let people know) as the syllables of my name shot out of her mouth. The room’s chatter was subdued but still audible. I fumbled over my words as i read. “Pessimist” “Boring” “Arrogant” “Cocky” I’m sure they were getting fed up with my excessive self-loathing, so the shallow words had to come out of my mouth to satisfy the assignment. “Asian-American” “Introvert.” “Atheist…” ”Self-proclaimed Misanthropist” with a smirk. But I was running out of words. I knew the time neared.

“And something that most of you probably don’t know— I’m gay”

The chain of silence that followed was unbroken other than the rustle of clothes as a few people turned their heads towards me. Maybe she knew that this could have a terrible impact on my growth as a gay male. Being the awesome teacher she is, her words broke the chain as she attempted to pull this one word that no one knew that to do with down where she could tie it back into her assignment. The class started talking again, which let me breath a sigh of relief, knowing that eyes had moved on and were looking around the room for the teacher’s next victim. I sat there, unsure of how I should feel. Well, how did I feel? How am I supposed to feel? All of the coming-out stories that I’ve read say that it should be liberating. Freeing. Life-changing. Monumental. I felt… eh. Not very different. The people that I’ve talk to say that it’s probably because the people that didn’t know yet don’t matter, so I wouldn’t feel any different. But I didn’t really feel different after I told my best friends and cousin either. What a weird gay I am, right?

But then this kid in my class that I don’t really like messaged my best friend to tell me something. He messaged me on Facebook something similar. It said:

that was mad real today in english and for you to just say it out like that mad props like thnx for sharing that with me(everyone lol)

I think you may already know from the way he writes why I don’t really like him lol. But he was the only one that really talked to me about what I did back there. I didn’t come out because I wanted to date anyone in the class. I didn’t come out to benefit teacher so her lesson would have been better. I didn’t come out because I wanted to cause unrest in my classroom. Well. Refer to my “Misanthropist” post if you care enough. I came out because there was not a single person who was out in my classroom, and possibly my entire high school. I wanted to let people know that if they’re gay, they’re not the only one. Cheesy, right? Probably. But I wanted to represent the gay community. I have a suspicion that this kid is gay or at least bi. I’m glad he said what he said. Like what I did wasn’t just some random selfish action. I mean, I didn’t really benefit from it, like I said. Idk. It’s not really my coming-out story. So just… Stupid story?

Masochist

I've always found "coming-out stories" really interesting, especially when people have some of the most beautifully bare and wholesome ways of "coming out." But that's beside the point here. What comes after always seems to be more interesting than how they "came out." I'll just warn you now that my attitude towards life is pretty dark and twisted. I like hearing stories about being "bullied" for coming out. I hate the word "bully" too, to be honest. It debilitates the true extent of how sick some people treat others since children are often taught to use it as a way to identify. But we're not in grade school here. We're not getting our dodge ball stolen or being cut in line right before you're about to get the last pizza. We're talking about people being absolutely sick and ignorant to the point where their recipients have decided dying would be more comfortable than living with these "bullies." But that's exactly it. I want someone to say this stuff to me that I hear being said to others. I want to feel what it's like. I want to know that my short (thus far) and agonizing yet continuing journey to acceptance has not all been in vane. Like... all of this suffering has to pay off some how. Like how no matter what they say, the fact that they have taken their time to condemn me and hate me has indicated that that I've already won. I long for that pain. But I suppose the most important thing is that in order to experience such pain, I'd have to fully come out first. Because only then would any "bullying" be indicative that my journey to acceptance is nearing an end.

You're so lame

You should be doing homework right now since it's already 1:27 am, but you're up talking to some dude you met on Tumblr. Yeah, he's cute and everything, but seriously, you should be doing your reader's notebook for English. It doesn't matter if he's the first guy that's hit on you that you're interested in. It doesn't matter that he said you're cute, which probably inflated your ego. It doesn't matter that he lives in Boston and asked you to hang out one day. Come on now. Get your head of the clouds and focus on your blank Word doc.

I Miss Her

I didn't go to her house that often, actually. Maybe a couple times a month at max. We didn't really do much, and I know she hated being at her house even though I was there with her. I mean, we would watch TV or I would straighten her hair, and that was about it. The lights would be off and the window curtain would never really block out all of the sun, so there'd be a slight glare on the TV. We would flip through all the on-demand movies, and she would read some of her favorites aloud and gasp every time I said I haven't seen the movie, which happened pretty often since I don't watch very many films. We eventually settle on a movie that we mutually find bearable at that time, and she would sit there with her feet on the ground and her back against the chair like any other person, but I wanted to get comfortable. I put my head on her lap and after a few complains about how heavy my head was, we stop fidgeting and lie there, waiting for the beginning credits to end. She's far from fat, but she's not skinny, so my "heavy" head rested on her lap comfortably. I think that was the first time I've ever did anything with another person that was even remotely close to "cuddling." There was clearly no sexual tension, and it wasn't really weird, but I felt comforted. Safe, I guess.

I can't recall the last time I went to her house. When it was just us. When we were just being friends. Doing what friends do. I miss her. I really do. I miss talking with her. I miss our light arguments. I miss playing with her hair. I miss her company. I love her. I'm not in love with her obviously nor was lying on her a symbol that I sexually lusted for her but more so just an expression of friendship. Every time I read about people cuddling, or sleeping on each other, or lying their heads on their boyfriend's lap, I'm reminded that I'm a hopeless romantic, waiting for someone to make me feel even more safe than Alexander did. But I also wish I could go back to what she and I had together. There are so many quotes that say the person that's your priority should never consider you their option. I know I'm an option. I know that I'm no longer near the top when it comes to people she considers priority. But I can't bring myself to realize she no longer cares.

Random Post #5

Someone asked me to write a little something about my "life story." Here is a horribly written version.

"I guess I should start with telling you what I think I am. Well, at least what other people have told me. I'm confident and smart. But I guess that's the problem. I come off as confident when I actually really...really... really hate myself. I'd be lying if I didn't say that a large reason for this self-loathing is due to being gay, but there are other factors too. Being gay (at least for me) has influenced a skewed perspective on society. I guess that's where my second "trait" becomes moderately relevant. People think I'm smart, but in reality, I just question what most people turn a blind eye to. Social norms and such have always puzzled me, keeping me at arms-length from where most of society is. I suppose being gay only loosens what little grasp on normality I had. Universal advice says that I shouldn't be ashamed of being gay, but when it comes to something that is so seemingly -insert another word for "wrong"-, advice just becomes a bunch of meaningless words. And even when I do try to heed any advice, I end up trying to convince myself that it's all true, but I honestly don't believe any of it is. I suppose this is just another story of some closeted gay kid who's socially awkward. By the way, sorry this is so long and boring (that's what he said.) not to mention horribly written. And I mustered up what little confidence I had to not post this as anon. I mean, "nothing to lose" right?"

Another Incoherent Post #3

I'm in a love-hate relationship with Tumblr. I started my blog a couple months ago and I only have like, 9 followers. LOL. Anyways, there are so many gay people on Tumblr. I love it. Namely two people who make me mushy and fuzzy inside. Heck, I'm sure they've never even looked at my blog, but it's their relationship that does it. I just realized how pathetic that sounds, but it seems I read a lot about other people's relationships to fill my dearth of one. I guess I do that a lot. But I can't wait. I can't wait until somebody loves me as much as I love them. And I want to fall for that person. Hard. Sigh. I guess it's true. I'm hopeless, awkward and desperate for love.

I'm fully aware of why writers have to use "love" in their work. It's to ground characters and to make them more relatable, so it'll sell better. But I guess that's what sucks. Being completely devoid of any romantic interest, let alone relationship, sucks. You see all of these people fret over their relationship, but I mean, at least you have one? I know that sounds absolutely pathetic and that there's still the "thin" aspect of a relationship and not just the "thick." But I can't help it. I hate this. And by this, I usually mean myself.

I know I write a lot of strange posts that revolve around an utter ignorance of the way society works. But I'm going to go as far as saying this is by far one of the strangest things that I think. People put up this facade of how they're so individualized and how strong and unique they are. But the simple things that transcend all humans brings to light how completely full of crap that is. Namely eating. Picture this. An extremely fit and muscular guy is walking back from the cafeteria when some skinny teenager backhands his tray of food. The teenager didn't need to use any sort of excessive brute force. All it took was a merely slap of his food to debilitate this man with an image of strength and resoluteness. This man was in need of food like all humans and all it took was some kid to come along and slice his soft spot. I know it's strange. Everyone eats. Duh. But that's exactly the point. Everyone has to eat, making it everyone's weakness despite how different or powerful you are. This doesn't only apply to eating either. Anything else that is common ground for all humans is the same.

I'm not sure how I feel about Li. I mean, I want to say that there's no tension between us, but I feel like that'd be a lie. I've even grown to like Nouri more than Li. I guess a lot of this pent up hate for him lies in his relationship with Alexander. Call me a jealous whore, but it sucks that I'm never with her anymore. I miss her. I know I do. I would never tell it to her face. Heck, the closest I'd come to stepping on my ego is writing this post, but I seriously doubt she still reads this stupid blog. But I miss what we used to be. I can't say I don't want to her to happy, but I wish she could be happy with someone else. Namely myself. Ugh. You're such a selfish bastard, you know that?

I'm scared. I know I am. I try to convince myself that I'm not, but I am. I'm so ready to jump off this bridge not knowing what's at the bottom. Heck, what's at the bottom could be amazing. On the other hand... People say that they'd take pain over regret, but how do you not regret what caused you pain? How can you take pain and completely turn a blind eye to regret once you've gotten there? I want to just scream it and freaking fly "out of the closet." But I can't. Because I know I might hate the pain. But more importantly, I'd regret doing it more.

A Bit Inflated

I don't usually change my profile picture on Facebook. I mean, I really really liked my last one with Tiffany and Quincy and Mason and Nathan, but I freaking had it set for over two years. I uploaded a new picture to do something I wouldn't normally do. I also posted a picture of one of my drawings that I actually liked. I was sure that they were going to collect dust after the couple days a picture is deemed socially acceptable to comment/like, but it didn't. It was pretty shocking, actually. A lot more people than I thought commented/liked them. Now I know why people like changing their profile pictures. I know this is probably all just some volatile confidence, but hey, better than nothing, right?

Sigh, all of these cute guys and not a single one for me. Namely because I'm, like, 12 in their eyes and also because they're all way out of my league.

That High School Thing

It seems to be on everyone's mind recently. Well, everyone as in the people who can actually attend prom, whether they want to go or don't want to go (heck, even anywhere in between).

Am I going?

I'm not sure...

Do you want to go?

Yes... but no at the same time.

Well, why do you?

It's one of those stupid "once-in-a-lifetime events." Plus, my friends will be going and Tiffany want to go.

So why don't you want to go?

I guess the reason's pretty pathetic. Not having a date is the first thing that comes to mind. The second reason is just not wanting to go.

I suppose that's a pretty lame excuse to not go. There are a few people who don't have dates and are still going, and there are people who do have dates but arn't in a relationship. But I guess that's the problem. I'm sure I'm just over-analyzing, but as one of those "insatiable skeptics," I can't help but ask questions. Half of the people there probably won't be going with someone they're dating, yet they're fine with going with someone of the opposite gender. The two may not even be physically attracted to each other, yet it's socially acceptable to go on a date with them. What if I were to ask a straight guy out? Why doesn't that equate to a unattractive girl asking them out? Because odds are, that unattractive girl has leverage over me-- and by leverage, I mean a vagina. Well... not a vagina over me, but you know what I mean. On the same note, one straight guy probably wouldn't bring another as his date because of the social stigma that latches on to being associated with being gay. Yet it's socially acceptable for one gay man and a straight woman to go as each other's date even if he's already "out." There's no fear of being associated with being heterosexual. Why? Maybe I'll never know.

The other reason is pretty lame as well. I just... don't really want to go. The whole premise behind prom is kinda silly to me. You pick one day to dress up and go out. I mean, that sounds pretty silly to me. What's the point? Is that what "normal" people find joy in?

On the contrary to all this extremely negative and anti-social post, I kind of do want to go. I want to spend some time that I almost never spend with Alexander and Tejeda (and more time with Tiffany if I decide to go). I haven't hung out with either of them in a really long time, and the only thing that got us to do so is prom. It was nice... but sad. The other thing is that I really want to do their make-up. No no no, you don't understand... I, like, really really really want to do their make up. Their hair? No so much. They can get that done elsewhere if they really want to. I just really want to do their make up. The last time I did anyone's make up was like, 2 years ago and I've learned so much more since then. I've been dying to practice. I mean, all that time watching make-up guru's on YouTube has to have paid off, right?

Late Night Post #1

I wish it was as easy as just saying things out loud. I wish I could let go of all inhibitions. I wish I could just toss them to the wind along with all my worries. I wish I could radiate effervescence and amiability, but I can't.

I come off as cold and uptight. Angry and dull. Judgmental and boring. Sigh. If only it were that easy.

Another Incoherent Post #2

I'm scared. I'm really scared. Every day, I grow less and less self-assured and less aware of who I am. This doesn't really have anything to do with being gay though, which is actually very very nice. (I'll have to write an update on my journey in discovering being gay some other time) I'm worry about things people do at my age e.g. my freaking major/future. I have no idea what I want to become anymore. I've thought of a few. They're in order of appeal.

Veterinarian- I have very little faith in this. The stuff we're doing in Biology is insanely difficult and I'm sure it's barely anything by relative comparison. And I'm not sure I can dedicate 8+ years after high school to something I'm not sure about anymore. I love biology and animals and everything, but I'm losing faith. Quickly.

Teacher- I like being able to teach people. Well, it might just be that I like telling people stuff, but that's beside the point. (I mean, that's all teachers do, right?) The teaching/telling is the problem. I'm like, socially retarded (according to a certain hyper-masculine and Christian teacher).

Artist- I never put in enough work into a piece because I'm scared it'll turn out terrible and that would just show how terrible of an artist I am. I love drawing, but I know I'm not good enough. Plus, is being an artist really a job?

Chef-I'm not nearly good enough to become a chef. I guess I just like to cook. That doesn't make me a chef. Come on now.

Hairdresser- I've never really given this much thought since I don't think it's something I could see myself doing. I mean, I love playing with Alexander, Lam and Tejeda's hair, but that's not indicative of a career choice. Is it?

Anyways, I guess I still have some time to figure this all out. But time's been working out because it's running a whole lot faster than it was before.

I didn't think I was going to write about him, but I think I have my first crush. Well it's on some guy online, so take that as you will. I'll just call him Richard since that's technically his last name. He's insanely cute. Insanely. He's like, 18 or something so that doesn't help either. But he seems rather shallow and conceited, but that's all some kind of facade that sits in front of some very hollow and lonely boy. Well, I guess I'm just speculating. I may just be in lust, but hey, it's not going to work out anyways-- why not creep?

I'm about to be a senior. A freaking senior. This school is crazy if they expect us to be able to do this whole IB thing and the whole college thing at the same time next year. I mean, it's failing this year, and we don't even have to worry about college yet.

Tiffany wants to move out, like, soon. As in she's going to open houses and stuff. I want to move out with her, but I'm scared I'll be taking up space with no way to help with the mortgage. Plus, I'm not sure if she'd want me there with her. I dont know. This whole thing is pretty confusing.

I need someone to talk to. I'd love to talk to Tiffany, but I feel like she doesn't care sometimes. Or she doesn't understand. I miss being able to tell Alexander absolutely anything that mattered, but I'd like to think I've gotten better at being alone. Well, better than when she first started going out with Li, at least.

I don't understand society. I don't understand the norms and how it works and the stigma behind certain things. I just... don't understand. I'll probably have to write another post about that since I can go on and on about it.

I still think characterization in terms of the whole "three egos" thing. I'd like to think I can look at myself objectively, but I probably can't. I see myself as... bitter and cold and stupid and ugly and awkward and weird and just... someone that you wouldn't want to be around. But all of this has been subjected to my perception of my own being. I hate myself more and more every day.

Random Post #4

It seems you need at least a 2000 on the SAT to even think about applying to Tufts. Grrrr. I need to pull 300 points out of no where. I was under the impression that a 172 on the PSAT was OK, but I guess that was only relative. So... aim - 2000 on the SAT. I gotzzzzzz this.

I absolutely LOVE Tumblr. Well, more specifically, I have a huge crush on a guy on there. His name is Skeffington. He seems sweet and broken. And he's like, super-duper cute.

I'm starting to slack off in school. All of these stupid IB external assessments are a total pain. They take up so much time, and make you turn a blind eye to all the other assignments that are due. Freaking Math assessment can go kill itself. And Biology notes can go burn in a ditch. I don't understand the point in forcing students to take notes. Like, come on now. Spanish is too easy. All the other kids in that class are pretty slow, and I'm not sure why they're not in the other Spanish class. I freaking got like, 106 last term because of how much she had to scale the grades. English is just tedious. She gives constant work, yet we never seem to get them back. I don't understand. Theatre can go dig that ditch that Bio is in and make it deeper and fill it back in with cement. I don't even understand the point in that class. He has such high expectations, yet his execution is a giant steamy pile of fail. He pretty much admits it too, which is hilarious. History is pointless. I don't even want to talk about it. Sigh. I freaking hate this school so much.

Actually, I do want to talk a bit about History. Well, Mr. Chang specifically. I like how he has to audacity to come in to our debate practice, and tell everyone not to pick me as captain because I missed half a tournament and can't go on Mondays. Like, sorry I had family obligations. Something I'm sure you're real familiar with seeing as how you're never at practice nor tournaments, "coach". I love hypocrites. And sorry I took up an opportunity that I found far more important that debate. Screw you. Watch me become captain. No one else is more fit on the team than I. Don't even play that shit.

Speaking of opportunities, shadowing Dr. Doyle has definitely been interesting. I was under the impression that being a vet was a lot like being a doctor, where patients would come rushing in and out all the time with broken this or that and hemorrhagic who's or what's. But it's not... it's calm and quite and somewhat mundane? I'm not sure if it's something I'd like to spend the rest of my life doing. The most memorable quote in Burlesque had to be "I looked around and didn't see a single person's life I wanted" or something to that extent. I know it sounds harsh, but I look around, and I see nothing.

Another Incoherent Post

I'm not really sure what I'm doing right now. I'm just sitting around waiting for something magical to happen. For something to fall out of the sky. For life to magically start getting better. For college to start and high school to be over. For some boy to come sweep me off my feet. For some answer to pop into my head. For something. Something not this. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm waiting. Waiting and waiting but what has that gotten me so far? I guess it doesn't help that I go around hating things all the time. Well, proactive steps, anyone?

I think high school's taught me to be cynical. Or maybe I'm just innately cynical. \

By the way, being required to take notes is stupid. It's like being required to study; I thought they were for our own benefit and optional.

Today's March 7, 2011 and I weigh 125-130.

I demand to get to 140 - 145 by the end of the school year. I DEMAND IT!

Raspberry Lemonade Blast

I remember some episode of Glee where Chord asked Santa (Oh... maybe the Christmas episode? LOL) for chapstick. Lots and lots of chapstick. I though, what kind of wish is that?! But now I know. Now, I want lots and lots of chapstick. Especially those that taste amazing.

But they always seem to get lost somehow. Like, theres just some hole in my pocket where all my chapsticks fall into oblivion. Yup. Story of my life.

Random Post #3

There were two popular "Myspace" pictures, if i remembered correctly.

One was the mirror shot. Still popular today, I guess. Extra puntos if you get the camera flash to cover up your acne-prone face.

The second was the what I like to call "the BJ shot". I'm sure we've all see the picture to the right, but I never understood how that camera angle was considered flattering. But then I thought about it. All of those amateur pornos hold the camera at that angle when someone's getting a blowjob. Totes makes sense. That camera angle makes everyone look like a ghetto whore.

I guess this is just one of those nights/days were I think too much. Maybe i should take on drinking. Do people ask before they do something illegal?

I [Never] want to grow up. Now!

When people say "hate is a strong word", i guess they don't take into consideration when strong words are needed. Like how I hate my school. Like how I hate my "friends". Like how I hate myself. I hate my age, my physique, my lack of social skills, my personality, my sight, my voice, my mentality towards life, and as you can probably tell, my self esteem.
I think it's kinda of funny that being gay wasn't one of the first things that came to mind when writing that list. I think it's come to the point were I'm fine with it. If someone were to ask me, I'd tell them the truth. I don't hate being gay, I really don't. I just hate the results of it, if that makes any sense. I hate how utterly impossible it is to find a boyfriend. I hate how I'm probably never going to meet someone I'll fall in love with in high school. I hate how even after this entire year of agony, it still hasn't paid off. Oh, I hate that I'm a virgin too. I feel like virginity is like wearing all white while standing on the sidelines of a puddle of mud with kids wrestling and having fun. I kinda just want to jump in and get it over with. Just... jump in and wrestle with some cute boy. Or girl. Haha. Probably not the latter, although I don't think getting a girl would be all that hard. (You're so cocky)
But anyways, I guess I'm just postponing happiness again. I want to be happy. I really do. But like Ms. Chu said, how do you define happiness? Since it's not tangible, how will you know when you're happy?
Well, I guess I'm not on the verge of killing myself, so it could get worse. But I'd like to think it can only get better from here.
How? Well... I'm not sure, really. Even if i knew, I probably wouldn't have the guts to act on it. Oh, add that to the list too. I hate how gutless I am. But anyways, I guess I'm hoping that growing up will make everything better. I'm playing off the factor that's beyond my reach, and hoping that time will make things better.

Peter Pan's an idiot.

Lighten up, kiddo. Live a little

Boundaries

There's this movie... I forgot what it was called, but the name wasn't in English. It was about two brothers who fell in love. As a gay man, it is right for me to say incest is wrong? Or pedophilia? Or any form of "love"? Wouldn't I be a hypocrite if I said that those forms of "love" don't exist or are wrong? Are some more accepted than others? If so, why?

Slings and Arrows

Call me cliche, but I'd like to ask the same question. To be or not to be.

Now, given the probably negative semblance of this post, I'd like to start off by saying I have little intention of killing myself despite the constant though.

Not to sound like a puddle-deep philosopher, but what's the point of life? Are we supposed to fulfill some kind of task? When people die, do they know if they've fulfilled this mystery task? Or do they acknowledge that their entire life was a waste? I remember my mom and I were talking and while the conversation had little to do with this question, it certainly gave me insight to how she may have answered this question.

I was forced to work, and of course, I complained (I'd like to call it voicing my opinion, but complaining is so much more qualified). There were a few big cases and despite her conviction, I could have cared less if there were half a million.Well, that's kind of harsh, but hey, I wanted to go home and be unproductive. Naturally, she played the guilt card, telling me that this would mean she has to do more work tomorrow and that I was being inconsiderate. Being the teen-ager I am, I replied with something along the lines of "well this is your job, not mine". Then, she answered my question. She told me that her job was to raise me.

Is that all there is to life? Procreation? Well, she didn't say that it was her job to pump out a bunch of kids, but it certainly can be interpreted that way. And if that wasn't what she meant, is it just to raise kids? To give way for another generation? I mean, that can't be fair. What about sterile men and infertile women? What about gay men and women? What about people devoid of the opportunity to adopt? What about families and environments unfit for children? Are all of these people supposed to die bearing in mind that they didn't achieve the one goal in life?

But I guess that's another thing. Is there only one goal in life? Is everyones calling the same? What scale do we use to measure success in life? Are we to tough it out until we achieve this (these?) goal(s)? If we're to never know our calling, why do people bother living? Are there social and cultural backlashes from suicide that people are afraid of? Is it in our nature to not kill ourselves? From a purely scientific standpoint, living organisms only live to pass on their genes. So I guess there's some part of us that tells us not to pull the plug. But at what point does life become too much to handle? Too hard to "tough it out" and become acceptable to commit suicide?

I guess what I'm trying to ask is, what's the point?

You know those resolutions that no one ever fulfills? Yeah? Here's one that I probably won't, but I'll just keep it in the dusty corner of my mind.

I'm going to take things less seriously and loosen up. (That's what she said?)

Worth

I guess questions like the ones that follow come with having little sense of who I am. I mean, when one's worth is unknown, doesn't that imply that they're virtually nothing in the eyes of people who say "You are what you think you are"? At what point does someone begin to get a sense of what they deserve? I'm sure there are always people who are more deserving than others. When speaking of postponing happiness, it only applies when the person deserve to be happy. Do I deserve to be just content? Do I deserve a cousin's undeniable love? Do I deserve to not have friends? Do I deserve to be lonely? Do I deserve a moderately wealthy life-style? Do I deserve a boyfriend? Do I deserve to be constantly angry at the world? Do I deserve to just barely be living? Do I deserve to be happy? I don't know.

Lam (Well... the guy Lam... Lam2?)

I'm not sure what happened to my middle school years. I have an urge to blame the oblivion to my stupid yet uneventful childhood.

I really don't want this post to revolve around the girl, so i'll just give her an awesomely objective name. Her name will be... Girl.

Come 7th grade, the "academically gifted" have gone off to their calling, and the school is now full of the lukewarm students that the school attempts to get rid of by next year. I actually really liked this year. I sure didn't give a care about school, so the work didn't bother me. This is also the year I started talking to Tejeda and Alexander. And most relevant, Lam2. Lam2 was probably the one of the closest guy friends I've ever had and that's pretty sad seeing as how we didn't really talk about anything of importance. He was funny. And cute. And a list of other really cliche descriptions of someone you'd have a crush on. Did I mention how cute I thought he was? Anyways. He was short and thick, and that comes from someone that calls almost everyone fat. His shortish and obviously black hair (come on, just look at that name) didn't cover his adorably small eyes. I mean small in a your-eyes-look-closed-when-you-laugh kind of way. That too, his laugh was equally cute, and he still had braces in 7th grade. I remember him wearing thin-framed black glasses. I'm pretty sure I had almost every class with this boy. He was absolutely hilarious in a you're-so-random kind of way with an undertone of crude humor. I can't recall a single significant conversation we've had, but small talk is always fun, right? Right. Until he decided to switch schools. I don't blame him, i really don't. But those exams schools changed him. I really liked him. I like what he used to be. I hate him.

Random Post #2

You ever come across one of those words or idioms that make you say "I want to use you in a sentence"? Well I do. But I always forget them lol. So I guess I should start writing them all down here on this blog so I won't. So here are some that have been clawing at the chance to be used.

Minutia- N.- Trivial details of something
Beyond reproach- So good as to preclude any possibility of criticism.
Alacrity- N.- cheerful readiness, promptness, or willingness
Snake oil- any product with exaggerated marketing but questionable and/or unverifiable quality or benefit.
Axiom- N.- maxim: a saying that is widely accepted on its own merits


I'm sure most people my age don't spend their free time doing stuff like this.

Oh, and I decided that I should change the look of this blog. I wanted something ironically cheerful and light.

Calluses

It's probably just an excuse just to not have to say anything, but I figured I just have to build thicker skin. I was trying to convince myself that if the same insults were applied to any other of my (few) traits, I would probably not find them as insulting. Like being Asian, for example. I typically don't find insults about my race insulting, but that's only because there was no real reason to not accept it. My whole family is Asian (obviously), and it's never been something I should be ashamed of. But when it comes to being gay, it's a whole new story.

I don't know anyone who's gay that also knows I'm gay in person, so there hasn't been a whole lot of help in terms what's the "norm". There aren't any gay people here that assure me that I'm not a freak, I guess is what I'm getting at. I'm guess I'm trying to do this whole "acceptance" thing on my own, and I figure one way to do so is to just take it for now. To take the (indirect) insults until I'm not offended. But for now, I guess it's just a game of waiting

Alexander

I never thought i'd see the day that I would write about her. I don't want this to turn out like one of those stories where the person says that they still love the person they're talking about but that person sounds like a total bitch ( I hope that made sense ).

There are few people I can say I truly love. And by few, I mean two. She... is one of them.

She talks to me a lot about Tejeda, and more often than not, it's fairly negative. Apparently Li has always liked Alexander even when he was going out with Tejeda. And despite her warnings, Alexander has fallen for him. It didn't come as a surprise that this day would come, but I guess I never thought everyone would be so matter-of-fact about it. The thing is, though, Tejeda gets a fair amount of backlash for these warnings. Then again, the warning didn't come off as beneficial to Alexander, but more so a how-could-you-have-broken-a-bestfriend-code kind of thing that revolved around her. So I'm not going to be another one of those people. I'm glad to see that she's happy with her new friends. I know I'm not the most pleasant to be around nor the most fun. I know it's wrong for me to want her to myself. I know it's wrong for me to think she's taken everything from me since she gave me pretty much everything I had and was everything. My gray sister. My bestfriend. My only friend. And she's gone. I know it's wrong. This all probably sounds really pathetic.

I doubt she'll read this anyways. And she's the only one i know in real life that knows this blog's URL, so no one can tell her about this. Of course there's always the voice in the back of my head secretly wishing that she would read it, and tell me that she's not gone.

Slightly Really Insane.

I have another blog somewhere. I don't remember the URL for it, but i remember why i started it. Quite similar to this one, it started off with posts that would make people think I'm slightly really insane. Posts that were just random thoughts about how messed up life can get.
As teenager-y of me as this seems, I can't help but quote a song(Lost by Micheal Buble):
Life can show no mercy
It can tear your soul apart
It can make you feel like you've gone crazy, but you're not

I guess the most ruthless and exciting my life has been was when i was infatuated with Tejeda. She was... amazing. She loved me. I thought i loved her. (I'm sure you know why I didn't) We did some pretty stupid things together. Like cutting. This was in no way her fault. But she did start this trend. There were about 10 kids in our grade who cut themselves out of about 80. I never actually cut myself though. I would run a needle deep enough to hurt, but it would never bleed. I thought it wouldn't show, but turns out I was too stupid to see it.
But that's not really what this post is about. We used to steal too. It was really stupid. We stole from places like CVS and Sephora for hair products and make up. I don't even know what was going through my mind. But one day, we got greedy. And we got caught. I thought we had only stolen for a few weeks, but we had actually been stealing for...months... Life kind of really sucked after that. Whenever I was awake, I would cry about how much life sucked, and all that crying made me tired. So either it was me crying, or me sleeping; either way, my life became consumed with it. I don't even think it was the fact that I got caught. It was the fact that I've lost the sliver of respect that I had. Mason had recently been bailed out of jail and was on parole, so Mom's life sucked, I'm sure. She thought she was a terrible mother but really, I was just a terrible son. Not only a terrible son, but a terrible everything else. The only person that knew was Mason, and he never even bothered to stop me. I was a terrible friend to Alexander. I was a terrible cousin to Tiffany. It just... all sucked. I wrote about it a bit on the random blog i was talking about earlier, and a lot of the posts probably came off as super psycho. The teenager in me is clawing at the chance to quote another song. (F**king Perfect by P!nk)
Made a wrong turn
One or twice
Dug my way out
Blood and fire
Bad decisions
That's alright
Welcome to my silly life

Random Post #1

Okay, all my posts are random. Wanna fight about it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QqAVFwGwaI
This video was dedicated to the victims of a shooting. It's supposed to pull at heartstrings and call for sympathy, i think.

But why should someone feel sympathetic for these people? Odds are, you don't personally know them.
Is it because they died for no reason?
But people don't always die for a cause.
Is it because they were shot?
But being shot isn't the worst way to die.
Is it because they had families and friends that depended on them?
Almost everyone does (I hope)
Or is it because they didn't deserve it?

Almost 2 people die every second. What makes the way these people died any more commendable than the two people that died in the time that you've read this sentence? I guess the most reasonable answer i can come up with is that they died at the hands of someone else. But still. There are plenty of murders. But do any of these people deserve to die? Does anyone deserve to die? Does anyone deserve anything? Do people get what they deserve?

No.

I think I'm ready to being (< fail. Begin* ) living.

I looked up "how to love yourself" today. It was kind of pathetic on my part. Half of those things i can't do. Uhg.

" We've come to the conclusion that I shouldn't curb myself unless I don't feel safe somewhere. I think I dove too fast into 'being out' and crossed the street before looking both ways, you know? I'll pay attention now."

Interesting

"Don't be gay"

While it was taken entirely out of context, these words came out of the mouth of my own flesh and blood. I guess I never realized how much derogatory language they used until this Christmas. It seemed like ever other word was some sort of attack. Fuck you.

I'm honestly not afraid of whether or not someone would accept me. Odds are, they would. Look at Lam for example; she would obviously accept me. But I don't want to tell her. It's not that I'm afraid i won't be accepted, it's that I'm afraid people will look at me differently. I want to do this. I really do. I have no idea what's stopping me.