I guess priorities have changed a bit in my life over the past year or so. Me a year ago wouldn’t recognize me now, (well I mean I guess he would recognize me because I am me. But other than that, I am not the same person) and I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this like my entire life. Every year brings new challenges that I can slack off from and not meet and new people who aren’t going to touch my dick.
Me of a year ago didn’t smoke weed, like at all. Me of a year ago tried it once, didn’t know how to inhale it right and got freaked out that my parents would somehow know and disown me. Me of a year ago was working at the Goddard School three times a week and making next to nothing with my 6 hours a week or so. Scratch that, it was more like 4 hours a week. That me squandered money on food that was making me fatter than I was and wasn’t doing anything productive with my life. I don’t know that kid and frankly, I don’t want to ever meet him again. He spent all summer driving around Spotswood or sitting around at Dunkin. He’s a nobody that did nothing. All summer with no job and no money really put a damper on everything. He’s dead and gone, and I’m pretty sure he went by Dave.
I don’t know what I did before recently. After FAFSA and the college system didn’t agree and I took an involuntary semester off, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had just started at shop rite and that was fine, I guess. I decided that work would be my new habit. I kind of went through a total desertion from most of my friends after that. Everyone was either far away at college or sitting around like I was or wanted nothing to do with me. And you know what? It wasn’t for the worst. When you work with people all the time, you have to be civil, after a while. And that usually turns into some sort of forced friendship based on having a common enemy that none of us can escape. Well at least with the new job, there’s a whole shit load of people that work with me so I have a variety of options of who to get closer to and who to keep at an arms length. There is some sort of disjointed community friendship between us all. Unless you’re Tom O. on the front end, at which point you can FUCK YOURSELF. #tom’sadouchebag,seriouslyadouchebag #rogeryoubetterreadthispart. Anyhoo.
The new me is actively dieting and is doing well in my classes. I’m not quite as angsty, but I’m sportin’ twice the tang. The fuck? Idk. I’m gonna go smoke a bowl and zone out to Archer. I’ll finish this shit later.
I wouldn’t want to move out.
<edit/> Now that I’m not so pissed that I want to throw my laptop.
Like seriously. You always have to have an “I’m better than you” demeanor. That shit is getting so old. I recognize you’re upset but you can’t go about screaming and barreling through. You treat mom like shit and even threaten to knock me out? Who the fuck do you think you are?
I don’t believe for a second I’ll turn into him, and thankfully so. Whenever there is shit to do in the house, you don’t do any of it. Going to work and coming home sober aren’t the makings to being an actual father or an actual husband. Putting on a mask at work and pretending to be calm and collected is well and fine but that’s not where it counts. I don’t want anymore of these stupid fucking threats. I don’t HAVE to drive anywhere.
And we’re sorting the endless bags of laundry which means you can’t get through the front way but that won’t stop you. I tell you to go around, but you barrel through anyway and fall. And everyone flocks to you with this sympathy that makes me sick. I told you to go around, you saw that you couldn’t go that way but you couldn’t be expected to walk 20 feet around the pile so you fell. Cause and effect. Stupid actions beget stupid results.
And then you go into apology mode where it’s suddenly as if all you did doesn’t matter anymore. I’m still pissed at you and by no means am I going to go take a ride with you to go talk about you’re feelings. Talk to me when I need you, not when you need me. I’m the son, you’re the father. I can’t be your peer when you’re upset if you can’t treat me with an inch of respect when you’re angry. Be unhappy. Let it fester. I’m not forgiving you for this one to your face just yet.
I tried blogging before because I have so much on my chest and I don’t know how to get it all out and find the words that I need to say. But anyway this is round two where I get it all out and feel better about it all. Closed my facebook tab on Google Chrome and turned on my Arcade Fire Radio on Pandora. Welcome to my brain.
Where do I even start? I suppose I should start out with my “future” College is looking pretty bleak right about now. I don’t have the money to pay for college right now. I went on the FAFSA website and started filling out there million page questionairre where they ask you every personal thing about your entire life from what your father’s favorite tv show is to if you’re enough of a minority to deserve the government’s money. Fuck it. I just can’t work with this bullshit system anymore. Do you want to know what really bothers me about applying for a loan with these horrible horrible people? The Selective Service (or the SS) Maybe it’s not quite as bad as a Nazi organization, but hell it’s up there. A big theme of me and my writing is that we only have one life to live.
So fuck it. I can’t live my life with a green uniform, a rifle in my hand, and the expectation to kill whatever is trying to kill me. I just can’t do it. I can’t fight in a war. I can’t perpetuate killing anyone. I can’t sit back and pretend like it doesn’t bother me. And dammit! I can’t fight in a war that I don’t believe in. I can’t get behind a country that won’t allow just about one out of every ten of her soldiers to fight because of who they spend their personal life with. I can’t get behind a government that is tearing itself apart and damn well knows it! I can’t pretend anymore.
Why the random anti-armed-forces outburst? Because if I successfully sign up for a loan, I will be on their list. The list that takes men away from their homes in times of “war” and sends them off to their deaths. War is in quotes on purpose. War is a state of mind. We decide when wars happen. We decide when we go to slaughter our own people or they’re people. What will killing the middle/lower class of a country we know very little about going to accomplish? The policies that define what the army is fighting for is usually only held by the leaders. If average joe american and average jake middle-eastern is fighting a war based on what they’ve been told, who is that helping? Chances are, most of those joes and jakes will die.
So fuck that. Another thing on my mind is sexuality (like always) but this time it’s actually acted up in my head in a way I hadn’t really realized before. Where last week, if things continued the way they were going, I would declare straight, what always happens (except this time to a much bigger extent) happened. The homosexual side in me took president over my entire being. It brought me to a very real and unfortunately unfathomable theory.
I think I have and have had a huge crush on my best guy friend. I don’t want him to be with his girlfriend, and it’s not that I want to be with his girlfriend. I want to be with him. Usually when something is this big on my mind, I tell someone and we talk about it. But this is too big, and I don’t have anyone to tell about this. Hello blog. Thanks for being that bestie tonight. Straight guys don’t go gay. I don’t know what real happiness is or how to find it, but dammit, I’m looking for it with all my might. I’ll get over him like I got over everyone else. Can’t I even let myself be pessimistic? Fuck me.
I also gave serious thought to Beauty School today. I want to work with hair or be a stylist and just be around those kind of folks. I don’t like where things are going. The long list of classes to take for the degree in psychology is huge and very overwhelming. Why can’t my band thing just work out. I don’t want him to go. I don’t want anyone to go anywhere. In the next few months, I am going to get my shit together. I might even get my license and a car. If I really plan on taking what I want from life, I have to go and take it. I can’t pester my friends anymore. Most of them are lame anyway. When me and him get to hanging out, be sure I’m going to dump my musical prowess on his ass and we are going Matt’s fucking house and creating fucking magic. Like it or not, we are giving it another go at our dreams. Angsty and indecisive isn’t where I am anymore. Carpe Mother Fucking Diem BIATCH!
I also have this huge concept on my mind. It surprised me a lot when I thought of it about 24 hours ago in my bed. I will find that thought, even if I need to get Leo to come over and invade my dreams for it. I know what I want and by God, I’m going to get it. And with that, I remembered what my last point was going to be on tonight: God.
My relationship with God has been sketchy lately, and always (if I’m being honest with myself) and that’s my new thing. I’m growing up. I was raised super catholic my entire life and only now are the little puzzle pieces starting to line up. the catholic church is very much into controlling minds. They run by fear and push people to their absolute worst only to have them crawling back as if everything they do is unworthy of God. I REFUSE to believe that any real God would condemn anyone to Hell forever. A woman on youtube talked about this saying: I love my son so much. He could be the worst person in the entire world, it wouldn’t ever push me to sending him to hell forever. She says she would never give up on her son no matter what. Now if this “God” is truly all good and all perfect, and he is. God is love. Then how could he possibly condemn someone like that? My church is trying to tell me that a nonbeliever who has committed their entire life to being a good person and find true enlightenment would be thrust into hell by “God” because if they don’t understand the true god, they are evil. Religion is a justifier if you ask me. People use it as a shield to say whatever they want. That’s why there are people who picket military funerals and push anti-gay propaganda. If you question these people, you are told that by questioning them, you are questioning God.
Fuck it. People live behind these shields they create so they don’t have to grow up. Grown ups have to be accountable for what they say and face the problems in their life. Kids are exempt. Religion keeps us young. Religion keeps us prone to outbursts and to rationalizing what we know in our hearts and our minds is completely irrational. Free thinkers were burned in the olden days, and now they’re branded and outcast all the same, even if not killed in privileged 1st world countries. There is just so much ignorance and we’re subjected to it every day and from a young age.
Especially in the case of Sesame Street. There is a petition on the web to have the characters of Bert and Ernie symbolically married on the show. I am %150 behind this. From when I was very young, I was subjected to all kinds of bigotry related to sexual orientation. My dad scarred it deeply in my head. You can imagine how difficult it was for me to hear as I was molested as a child and had homosexual thoughts as puberty hit. I’m a strong person, but even so. It hurt me so deeply and it plagued me hearing only one side my entire life. And since it came from when I was so young and willing to believe whatever I was told, I took it as solid fact. No person has the decision to be homosexual. We are born the way we are, which is very often predisposed to liking both to varying degrees. We can choose who we wish to spend our lives with but we can’t change our feelings. Had I seen anything that made me think homosexuality was okay as a little kid, maybe I wouldn’t have been so dead set against it when I got older.
Anyone have any views on any of the things I talked about?
At first I was like
Then I was like
I can die happy :D
With this gorgeous guy I used to know. He started texting me and now we do it as a regular thing. I don’t even think he’s into dudes. Does he know he’s flirting?
This is the first time I’ve been realized bi and with that comes a realized interested in many “gay topics” I have found an obsession with clothing and being eccentric and fashion and accesories and Ahh! There’s just so much.
Anyway, I have been buggin’ out thinking about fall fashion. Shit is going down. That’s all I have to say. Be prepared. Dave is the uncertain “straight kid” from high school who didn’t know himself. Davey is the realized and very much happier young man who gives a damn.
This Fall, I’m going full Davey.
I saw them for the first time a few months ago. My God, did they put on a great show! I love concerts, I do. But everything and everyone else is just bland in comparison to Alkaline Trio. Alk3 is the ultimate pick-me-up.
Did a lot of drinking this week, which is weird because I usually don’t have any way of doing that, friends who would do it with me, or the privacy to do it without being arrested. That party was awesome and those people I hung out with, here’s to you! Something about drinking, I can’t explain it. It’s just an amplifier that makes the night better. The Irish in me needs to calm down before I start having a problem ;)
Anyway. After totally missing both the Murphy’s show AND the Streetlight show in these past few weeks, I am making a promise to myself to make it to see Alkaline Trio no matter what. Then again, I’ve been battling a very blah state of mind. No motivation to do anything important lately. Can hardly pull myself out of bed and once I’m out all forms of productivity are irrelevant. I haven’t even considered exercise. Well, at least not until today.
Today was pretty average. Woke up a few hours later than I would have hoped. Mental-noted to myself to get up earlier and go to sleep earlier. Lazed around on the computer for a while. Called Shop Rite back, this time to much avail. I have an interview tomorrow, wooh! Shaved my entire beard off. It’s been months and months. Maybe 6 months since I went completely clean shaven. Be sure it won’t happen again. I don’t have any facial structure at all. The Chin Strap, though always my favorite always seems to have the shortest shelf life. I resort to the chin strap when the beard is getting to be a bit much and I want to make it look neat. (and by I, I mean my parents) The shaving wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the potential job tomorrow. But hey, what are you going to do. I need ticket money, car money, gas money, move out money, college money, and hopefully some cash on the side money.
But on to the main attraction. I went biking today with Chud. Been literally forever. Maybe about 2 years since we took a serious bike ride through the woods. It was nostalgic going through the same trail and pushing side-by-side up those same hills that bested us and had been bested by us so many times before. I can’t even describe how awesome a time I was having. Well anyway, we came to the rock hill that I had once fell on and did a front flip off the bike and ended up landing on my feet after hitting the ground. But that was a long time ago. I took my time on it and went down and back up again without a hitch. We continued to bike ahead and we met a jogger who had caught up and ran straight past us and said hey as he went. He was in such great shape. The “Am I bi or not thing” took a turn for the confused. He was gorgeous, and despite my very straight seeming week, I couldn’t help but be very turned on and interested and I felt that electricity.
Maybe it was that distraction, or maybe it was the drainage ditch that looked to be much more eroded away at the bottom of the long hill that did me in. We came to the top of the hill and went down like usual. I kept my following distance that I usually kept and told Chud that he should get a head start so we wouldn’t accidentally collide. Well apparently that wasn’t enough. Chud started slowing down, which isn’t a super uncommon occurrence, but definitely is one that irks me whenever it happens. So he starts slowing down. So instead of slowing down too, I veer to the right and say “WATCH OUT JOHN” It’s only then that I notice that the low point of the hill that pushes up to make another hill has a ditch that looks to be made from a stream that used to run through there.
BAM! Before I can even push to one side or register what is happening, the bike and me go flying through the hair and get dragged on the ground pushing me a good 8 to 10 feet from the ditch. Everything hurt. I felt like I was back in bed years ago when my mom was trying to wake me up for school. I was in pain but also very peaceful and all I knew is that I didn’t want to get up. John comes over and said something that I didn’t even remember. I start to get up and assess what had happened. I was covered in dirt and my right arm and face were beat up. I felt like someone woke me up in the middle of the night and shook me for a good minute in the air until I didn’t have any energy left. My sunnys which I was almost certain would be destroyed by the ordeal were sitting neatly in front of me. They didn’t even get a scratch on them. Curious and wonderful because they were hundreds of dollars.
All I could think was “Where is my hat? My favorite Ivy Hat that I bought for a bargain at Chinatown. That hat is as much a part of me as my beard and personality. We searched all over, couldn’t find it. Called my mom, dad, home. No car to pick me up with. So we walked home because the wheel was so terribly bent. I love you bro, but bloodied up and weak like I was, I was in no position to care for your boy-scout inspired miracle fixes to somehow attach the bikes. Getting home, my mom would have swore I was a dead man walking. I felt fine and got showered, disinfected and got dressed. I was still content on going to go see Captain America again with AshHarp. Who I talked to with earlier and made me promise I wouldn’t bail, even if it was just me and her. Well she bailed on me cause no one agreed to go. Lame.
My hat was at home, right where I left it because I was afraid it would get broken. If I’m concussed, this feels like I’m high, without the good feelings attached. I’m just beat and seeing straight is a little hard. Super excited for the Rockband/Drinking Party with the old Dunkin people. Good to see old friend again. My weight is something I’m going to no doubt start working on full-time. blah. I love 1 Girl 5 Gays with all my heart. It is like my favorite show on TV and it always cheers me up. I’ll blog about it later.
I need sleep for tomorrow. and an attractive someone who is down to cuddle
And I don’t know if I’m in the mental state to say it tonight. What I do know is that I haven’t blogged in a few days cause I’ve been in PA with my grandparents on a shared computer with a big blocker/firewall that wouldn’t let me tumblr. Come to think of it, that’s where the shit that kind of rattled me came from.
I think this is the start of the blogs dealing most with sexuality. Kind of a touchy subject in my house. I might even say it’s the touchiest subject. My parents have quite the stance on it.
Maybe it would be better if I first fill y’all in one what happened. So I went to PA during the Holiday Weekend. Being the Yahoo Answers Junkie that I am, I couldn’t help but continue to be the self proclaimed “Queen Guru” of Yahoo Answers. By that I mean that I almost exclusively cater to questions about sexuality. There are so many confused gay teens in the world. They tend to swarm to that site for answers and are usually confronted with what the world (and my father) would typically give them: The seed of self-loathing and an overall unsupportive attitude. My dad found it and gave me an hour long lecture on “God’s Plan and homosexuality” But my father’s lectures are more like interrogations. For the better part of that time, he was trying to get me to admit to him that I am gay. Apparently he doesn’t know any nongay gay supporters, either that or he refuses to believe that I could possibly be one of them. Why am I not going to tell me Dad about my bisexuality? Because he won’t understand. By telling him, I’m guaranteeing more lectures from him all directed at “Fixing me”
When something or someone means enough to you, you will do almost anything you can for it. I firmly believe that. Without people acting on their convictions, wide scale religions wouldn’t exist. There wouldn’t be Revolutions, America would not have been “discovered” by Columbus. You get it. I bring it up because this is something I feel so incredibly strongly about. I think people might call this feeling something that your heart is telling you. I know in my heart that homosexuality is not wrong. And I can’t deny the feelings I have.
It’s like every time I sit myself down and reexamine my sexuality as in National Treasure fashion. (Everyday) I pick myself apart as if I will find something that was staring me in the face: That I am Straight. If that is my goal (and I suspect it is) I am disappointed every time. Some nights I will be so content on the “discovery that I am straight” that I will go right to sleep to have heterosexual dreams of a life spent with a wife and a picket fence and Jesus on a unicorn. My dreams those nights are, without doubt the gayest thing you or I can possibly imagine. Guys in leather, not a chick in site, rainbows and disappointment.
Now you might be saying “Wow Davey, that sounds pretty gay.” You’d be right, but by no means does it account for my mind as a whole. I am just as much into girls as I am to guys, varying on the day. I was watching Drive Angry yesterday night with my brother and my uncle. Man, what a terrible shitty movie it was. I bring it up because the girl in it was gorgeous and level headed. I was so much more attracted to her than any guy in that movie. I felt very straight, explosions aside, And that night, my head was filled with guys and more guys. I’ve reached a point where it’s just easier to not fight it and just go with whatever I’m feeling at this point.
I was thinking in the shower this weekend that God couldn’t have made homosexuals with the intention that they all repress their feelings. In an ideal society that God has complete control over who also decides how the minds of the people he created operate, homosexuality shouldn’t be an issue. My feeling is that if everyone was programmed to be %100 Straight, there would still be rebels who decided to call themselves gay. By no means do I think that population would be about 1/10th of society. 1/10 is a ridiculously huge number. A number so high that even the biggest of skeptics shouldn’t be able to call homosexuality a choice by consciously straight people who want to fuck with the system.
The negative vibes my father gave me felt like I had an explosive in my gut. I felt like something was trying to claw it’s way out. The emotional discomfort manifested into physical discomfort. The only thing left for it to do is go flying out of my mouth as metaphysical discomfort which is a gruesome thought to behold. I think if I were never Christian, I would be into such weird shit. I can definitely see alternate me delving into ghosts and occult type stuff. It’s only because I have seen evil at work through Christianity that I stay far away. Shit is powerful, man. Like I already see colored auras (sometimes) and I have a perhaps unhealthy obsession with chaos.
Idk. More will follow.