Current mood: thoughtful
Imagine a brick wall. And imagine in this brick wall is a hole, shaped like a perfect circle. Now imagine in your hands is a perfect square, the same diameter as the hole in the wall. Almost can fit but not quite, because it is a square and the hole is a circle.
Now imagine that as you look at this hole, and look at this square... that the square begins to glow with a soft, warm light. And on your side of the wall is soft darkness, illuminated by the warm glow of the light given off by the square in your hands. You walk up to this hole in the wall and peer through and see darkness. You can feel a cool breeze coming from the other side... yet as you press your face to that wall, peering to the other side, wondering what's there, you can almost feel the longing that exists... over there. Longing to be warm. A longing to be lit by... anything.
As you approach the hole, the square gets brighter... warmer... more illuminated. You know that if you could get this glowing square through that hole that it would become so bright, and so warm that it would both light the other side and completely provide all the warmth that the entire other side AND your side would need.
You begin to calculate the proper angle in which the square might fit into that damned perfect circular hole. As you try different angles, parts of the square, but never the whole, poke through to the other side. When it does, you can hear sighs of relief coming from the other side of the wall. All whatever is on that other side wants is this warmth, this glow, this... square. This response pushes you further. You realize that with this angle you can get 30% of the square into the whole, and while you somehow *know* deep inside that the square will never fit... the appreciation, either for you trying or for you getting part of the square in... makes you want to just try harder. For when you do get the largest possible part through the hole enough... it lights the other side and provides it the warmth it seems to have lacked.
Your tries become more persistent. Eventually, that which is on the other side begins to beckon... but you begin to realize that your square, while warm and bright... it will never fit. You withdraw. You think of other ways. Perhaps if you were to alter the square... change it somehow. You attempt... and fail.
Over time, you realize that the square is indestructible. It is what it is: a square that will never fit in that circular hole. As you you sit in front of that brick wall and gaze at the square, you ponder this situation, wondering why you had to have a square... why not a circle? Why can't I change the square?
You glance up at the circular hole, which you haven't looked at in sometime and you realize that it seems smaller. You stand and examine, and realize that, actually... it's the same size it's always been. The square never would have fit. No matter how you have tried, geometry and physics and the basic law of things have dictated that your square would have *never* fit in that circular hole. You realize that because the square seemed to glow more brightly, and seemed to feel warmer when you tried that you overlooked the fact that it would never have worked. You begin to feel silly that you thought that would happen at all. Your new perspective, while hasn't changed physically, it mentally has provided you an entirely new point of view.
And now you can continue on and find the brick wall, that has the square hole that will fit your perfect square.
Moral of the story:
1. I love analogies.
2. The square is your love, and the brick wall represent someone you might try to love.
3. The circular hole represents someone who would love you if they could, but the hole in the brick wall of their heart... just isn't shaped the way your love/square is.
4. That's okay.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Poem
Current mood: sad
sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words can break my heart
the saving grace to save some face
is taking breath before you start
those things you say with such force
with malice, with such fire
though we both know, that as words go
most of it is said as a liar
words in front, anger behind
and emotion stuck betwixt
have left a friendship in the dust
and me here in its midst
with time... regret for the things we said
and some we left unspoken
as time goes by, you'll ponder why
and if it's permanently broken
--Thursday, September 19, 2007
sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words can break my heart
the saving grace to save some face
is taking breath before you start
those things you say with such force
with malice, with such fire
though we both know, that as words go
most of it is said as a liar
words in front, anger behind
and emotion stuck betwixt
have left a friendship in the dust
and me here in its midst
with time... regret for the things we said
and some we left unspoken
as time goes by, you'll ponder why
and if it's permanently broken
--Thursday, September 19, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Faggot
Current mood: reflective
Last Saturday, two of my roommates and I decided to go out and party with some friends. In the vein of having silly fun, I suggested we all wear shirts of the same color... Three Musketeers! So we all donned red tee shirts, however mine had writing on it while theirs were blank. Mine had a stylized image of Uncle Sam pointing, with the words 'I WANT YOU... TO BEND OVER'
Wearing our matching shirts, we headed out to meet friends. We were passing through a slightly unsavory neighborhood, but had to get gas; and I needed cigarettes. I hopped out of the car once we reached the gas station and went inside. I asked for my smokes, and handed the cashier my driver's license (Aside: The gas station attendant was in his late thirties, overweight, balding, missing 2 teeth at least, and had chewing tobacco in his mouth) and he checked the date and wished me a happy early birthday.
I thanked him, a bit surprised, and told him his was my first official birthday wish. We made eye contact and he said "Well, when I check IDs I always try to see the birthday and wish them a happy..." and as he nearly finished that sentence, his eyes drifted down to the words on my shirt. He interrupted himself and said "You should really change yer shirt. People are gonna think yer a faggot."
I'm going to stop the story right there and give a little background. I was physically gay-bashed in April of 2004 in Louisville, Kentucky. While walking between two gay bars, I was attacked by three men who rather mercilessly beat the shit out me for no apparent reason. (See the intensity of the beating here: http://www.virgored.com/bash-photos.htm
I thought that after nearly 3 and a half years, that I would be past this incident a little more. I would love to say that to the redneck cashier, I replied, "We wouldn't want that now would we? Toodles!" and float off in a cloud of pink glitter and smoke. Instead...
I looked him in the eye and told him that I hadn't read the shirt, that we were going to a red t-shirt party and I was going to turn it inside out when we got there. Then I grabbed my smokes and headed out the door as quickly as possible, as I felt my muscles tense and my blood roaring past my ears. I can honestly say that I don't feel prejudiced but the black man pumping gas suddenly became the face of my attackers in Louisville and I freaked out.
This whole situation led to a lot of introspection, both conscious and subconscious. I realized that I'm pretty damn gay. I also realized, through some self-examination, that I don't really think that's how I truly am as a person. Rather than it be who I am, I think I developed that persona some time in my late teens, as both a way for people to like the funny-gay-silly me rather than my true self. Most of my good friends know that I usually only act like that when drinking or around people I don't know (both times where I could be very vulnerable... Shields up!) I also realized I don't want to be that person anymore. I'm old enough now that I should be making the exits off the highway of my youth and taking the state roads that will lead me into adulthood. I should be introspecting and finding out what I don't like about myself and changing it, for fuck's sake. So I started making mental lists about what I don't like. To make them a little more concrete, I'm going to share them here, in hopes that by releasing their existence into the interweb and universe, I will have more power over erasing them
1. Holding myself so fluidly. There's no strength or self-confidence exuded by someone who slouches or doesn't walk solidly. By making that small change, it has led to several other changes.
2. Being so needy, both in friendships and love.
3. Conceding so quickly at times.
4. Not expressing my emotions clearly and concisely.
5. Allowing myself to hurt emotionally.
6. Being afraid to believe myself worthy and asking for what I feel I deserve.
So I hope that through this unfortunate incident that I will find the lesson within it, and try to continue to learn from it, which truly can be the most difficult to do.
Currently listening :
Pieces of You
By Jewel
Release date: 28 February, 1995
Last Saturday, two of my roommates and I decided to go out and party with some friends. In the vein of having silly fun, I suggested we all wear shirts of the same color... Three Musketeers! So we all donned red tee shirts, however mine had writing on it while theirs were blank. Mine had a stylized image of Uncle Sam pointing, with the words 'I WANT YOU... TO BEND OVER'
Wearing our matching shirts, we headed out to meet friends. We were passing through a slightly unsavory neighborhood, but had to get gas; and I needed cigarettes. I hopped out of the car once we reached the gas station and went inside. I asked for my smokes, and handed the cashier my driver's license (Aside: The gas station attendant was in his late thirties, overweight, balding, missing 2 teeth at least, and had chewing tobacco in his mouth) and he checked the date and wished me a happy early birthday.
I thanked him, a bit surprised, and told him his was my first official birthday wish. We made eye contact and he said "Well, when I check IDs I always try to see the birthday and wish them a happy..." and as he nearly finished that sentence, his eyes drifted down to the words on my shirt. He interrupted himself and said "You should really change yer shirt. People are gonna think yer a faggot."
I'm going to stop the story right there and give a little background. I was physically gay-bashed in April of 2004 in Louisville, Kentucky. While walking between two gay bars, I was attacked by three men who rather mercilessly beat the shit out me for no apparent reason. (See the intensity of the beating here: http://www.virgored.com/bash-photos.htm
I thought that after nearly 3 and a half years, that I would be past this incident a little more. I would love to say that to the redneck cashier, I replied, "We wouldn't want that now would we? Toodles!" and float off in a cloud of pink glitter and smoke. Instead...
I looked him in the eye and told him that I hadn't read the shirt, that we were going to a red t-shirt party and I was going to turn it inside out when we got there. Then I grabbed my smokes and headed out the door as quickly as possible, as I felt my muscles tense and my blood roaring past my ears. I can honestly say that I don't feel prejudiced but the black man pumping gas suddenly became the face of my attackers in Louisville and I freaked out.
This whole situation led to a lot of introspection, both conscious and subconscious. I realized that I'm pretty damn gay. I also realized, through some self-examination, that I don't really think that's how I truly am as a person. Rather than it be who I am, I think I developed that persona some time in my late teens, as both a way for people to like the funny-gay-silly me rather than my true self. Most of my good friends know that I usually only act like that when drinking or around people I don't know (both times where I could be very vulnerable... Shields up!) I also realized I don't want to be that person anymore. I'm old enough now that I should be making the exits off the highway of my youth and taking the state roads that will lead me into adulthood. I should be introspecting and finding out what I don't like about myself and changing it, for fuck's sake. So I started making mental lists about what I don't like. To make them a little more concrete, I'm going to share them here, in hopes that by releasing their existence into the interweb and universe, I will have more power over erasing them
1. Holding myself so fluidly. There's no strength or self-confidence exuded by someone who slouches or doesn't walk solidly. By making that small change, it has led to several other changes.
2. Being so needy, both in friendships and love.
3. Conceding so quickly at times.
4. Not expressing my emotions clearly and concisely.
5. Allowing myself to hurt emotionally.
6. Being afraid to believe myself worthy and asking for what I feel I deserve.
So I hope that through this unfortunate incident that I will find the lesson within it, and try to continue to learn from it, which truly can be the most difficult to do.
Currently listening :
Pieces of You
By Jewel
Release date: 28 February, 1995
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