We need to be better

You know, it drives me absolutely insane when I read an article or watch a story about bullying or casual cruelty in school, because there's always that one parent or teacher who says something like, "We're making our children over-sensitive. They have to learn to deal like people like this outside of school, in the real world, so this is just preparing them for that." And it drives me insane because they're essentially saying, "These kids just need to accept that they're being bullied, and they'll be bullied their entire life."

Chances are, these people who are claiming the kids just need to "toughen it out" developed that mindset while they were in school. Whether as a bully, a victim, or a witness, most people today have been conditioned to ignore the casual cruelty of others and to allow bullying. Those who say it makes children stronger are just trying to find ways to justify their inaction. But the fact of the matter is, bullying results in self-esteem issues, which leads to any number of things: eating disorders, depression, anxiety disorders, suicide. And instead addressing the actual problem these people want to blame the victims and tell them to toughen up.

You see a lot of the same thing in rape cases. Like the Steubenville rape case, which lit up the media. A lot of people blamed the victim in this case, saying things like, "She had it coming because she got so drunk," or "She wouldn't have drank like that if she didn't want it." What kind of culture are we when we vehemently defend bullies and rapists like this? What kind of culture are we in which our children and teenagers think it's okay to physically and psychologically harass their peers? What kind of culture are we in which a group of teenagers can sexually assault or witness the sexual assault of an unconscious teenage girl, take pictures and video of the assault, but not think there's anything wrong with it?

This is one of many reasons I want to become a teacher. Because if there's a solution, it's going to start in the classrooms. All across America, we need to be telling out young people, "No, it's not okay to assault someone, physically or sexually. No, it's not okay to harass someone and make them feel like they don't deserve to be alive. No, it's not okay to see someone who obviously needs help and do nothing about it." We need to be better. As a culture, as a society, as a group of human beings in close proximity to one another.

So let's all be better, yeah?

I don't want no scrubs

I hate being hit on. I seriously do. I mean, I like attention. I like it when people think I'm attractive. I like being flirted with. I just hate the way some guys hit on you, in the most blunt possible ways. I hate it when I'm having an actual conversation with a guy and all of a sudden he's like, "You're cute," or "I think you're really sexy." Like, okay, that's great. But we were talking about something completely unrelated to your thoughts on my physical attractiveness. And you know a guy has ulterior motives when he just randomly says something like that. Especially in the gay world, that usually translates to, "Actually talking to you is boring, I just want to get you out of your pants."

And it doesn't matter if you explicitly tell them you're not into hooking up, or you're just looking for friends. They'll still try sending you pictures of their dick, or expect you to send them nudes. But at least those one's are blunt. The worst are the ones who you think are ACTUALLY interested in being your friend, so you agree to hang out with them. Get some coffee or whatever. And as soon as you do, they think that's their in. They ask if you want to go back to their place to hang out, and when you ask them to specify what "hang out" means they say something really lewd or coyly imply something sexual. Was I not clear when I said "I'm just looking for friends?" Apparently not to some men.

The worst part is, I would probably develop feelings for a guy who was just willing to be my friend and wait till I got to know him. I'm not like most people in my generation. I have a difficult time sleeping with someone casually, because I feel vulnerable during sex and I have a difficult time letting myself be vulnerable. But the guys I meet don't want to wait for me to be comfortable with them. As a matter of fact, from what I've heard from my few gay friends and what I've learned from the internet, most gay men seem to choose whether a relationship is worth pursuing on the quality of the sex.

For me, the quality of the sex is going to be directly related to the quality of the relationship. If I really like you, I'm going to really enjoy sex with you. You're not going to have to impress me, you don't have to do that really difficult sex position because you think I'll enjoy the experience more. I'm going to enjoy myself if you're enjoying yourself. If I'm going to have sex with you, it's going to be because I have feelings for you, not because I need somebody to help me achieve orgasm. For men, achieving orgasm is one of the easiest things in the world! We can do it with some lotion and tissue paper!

I guess, most of all, I'm just tired of guys trying to make something inorganic grow between us. They just want to rush things, but what I'm looking for is a friend-with-potential-for-more. I just want a guy who I can hang out with in completely non-romantic settings with, and then maybe one day I'll be like, "Oh, shit, I think I might be madly in love with you!" and he'll be like, "Ditto!" And then we can do all the sexy stuff. Or maybe just some of it. Some supposedly sexy things freak me out. (Water sports? WHO THE FUCK FINDS BEING PEED ON SEXY!?)

This may have gotten away from me a bit.

Can't Sleep

I've got New York on the brain. As I've said before, it's always been my dream to live in NYC, one that I've always found ways to talk myself out of. But I've just spent the last two hours laying in bed trying to sleep, and all I can think about is New York. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. I was looking at community colleges on the web a couple days ago. I told my mom, sister and aunt earlier today that I've been thinking about moving down there in the fall. Maybe wait until the PFD hits us, that'll give me an extra grand or so to work with.

But I'm thinking if I can find a job here and save up the money (hopefully somewhere around $2000), then sell my car for $3000-4000, with that extra money from the PFD I might have enough to put myself up in a hotel for a couple weeks while I look for a place and a job. I know I wouldn't be able to get anything luxurious, but what the fuck do I care about luxury? I've lived in a cabin, I've lived in a trailer, I've lived in a shitty apartment before. I would honestly be fine with a little studio apartment, so long as the kitchen and bathroom were separate.

I just... don't feel intimidated anymore. Just the idea feels releasing. I'm so ready to be out on my own. I could be a waiter or a bartender or a barista or a baker or a fucking clerk. I'd still be in New York. I'd still be living the life I've wanted, for years. I know it takes more than just wishful thinking and talking about it, but if I seriously start planning on leaving this fall? If I put my nose to it and figure out a way to make this work? I can do it. I'm ready for it. I know it.

Scale

When everything starts beating down on me, and I have a hard time focusing on anything but my own misery, I find that changing the scale of my outlook can greatly improve my mood or thoughts on the matter. We spend so much time looking at what life is doing to us we don't really pay attention to what it's doing to others, or what it's given us. It's an easy mind-set to be stuck in, since we're all trapped in our own minds with our own perceptions, and sometimes it's difficult to expand that.

So, next time you're feeling down, try to open up your perception a bit. Just increase the scale of your perception, it doesn't even have to be a whole lot. The town or city you live in, for example. Chances are, there are people in that town suffering more than you are. There are people currently homeless with nowhere to go or nobody to help them. There are people suffering loss, people, at this very moment in time, trying to hold back tears or sobbing uncontrollably. There are mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers "celebrating" a birthday for someone long gone.

Or maybe you are one of those people. Maybe you've already had a platter of crap handed to you, and you're just trying to deal with it. Open up your perception even wider. Look at the world, and the suffering there as a whole. There are women in places like Pakistan who are raped and then charged with the crime of being "too tempting." There are men and women fighting and dying for a principal or cause they believe in, needlessly dying for a God who hasn't answered their prayers. There are children being sold into sexual slavery, being abused by the people who "own" them. How insignificant do your problems feel compared to theirs?

Some people may think this is a dark and sadistic way to lessen your own personal suffering. They'll claim that you're using somebody else's misery to lessen your own. And maybe their right, but there's more facets to this than just that. When you can envision somebody else's pain, it makes you want to help. You know pain yourself. You know what it's like to hurt and be hurt, you know how angry and helpless it makes you. And there are billions out there who know that pain, who know more pain and who feel even more helpless than you do. And you don't have to go out and fight human trafficking cartels and rescue child sex workers in order to help. It's not necessarily about fighting the evil that exists in this world, but lessening the amount of pain put into it.

"Be kind to those you meet, for everyone is fighting a tough battle."- Plato
Live by this creed. Next time you meet somebody fretting about something that seems inconsequential to you, don't dismiss their feelings. Help them. Lessen their own pain, because chances are, the problems you face look as inconsequential to somebody else as theirs do to you. It's really not a new revelation. Kindness, no matter how small, can be a catalyst of change. Imagine how different things could have been if someone had stood up a couple times for the Columbine shooters, who claimed they did what they did because they were constantly bullied? For anyone who was bullied and thought they had to lash out?

We all have a responsibility to be the best that humanity can be. Not a lot of people believe that, and even more feel like they don't have to be a hero because somebody else will. Others want to be a victim, because of the attention it will bring. Don't be that. Don't be a bystander when you know there's something wrong happening, when someone is suffering. Be a hero. Maybe you won't be celebrated, maybe you won't be considered courageous by others. But chances are the person you helped will.

Just be someone's hero.

Possibility

I've been developing a sort of nautical obsession lately. Daydreaming about sailing, and the open sea. I've been dressing the part, too. I recently started wearing my pea coat that has anchors on the buttons again, and I've been thinking that instead of getting a tattoo sleeve in just fairytales it'll be ocean themed instead. For a while I thought this whole thing was stemming from my newly-acquired Disney obsession, especially with the Little Mermaid. But I've been ruminating on it a lot lately, and I think it's actually a bit more of a personal development.

I used to be terrified of the open sea. The idea of all that vast emptiness scared me, and for the longest time sailing seemed like a terrifying idea. I think the whole thing was just symbolic in my mind, though. I think that, to my subconscious, the open sea represented all the options and potential life held. It was everything that was outside of the little box I had made for myself, the comfort zone I had carved. And now, the only thing I want out of life is possibility. My comfort zone isn't enough. Even more so, it's starting to feel like a prison instead of someplace safe. I want options. Hell, I need options.

I'm stepping out of my box, more and more, and I want that open sea. I want to look into the horizon and know that regardless of which direction I take, there's something out there. Possibilities. I want adventure, I want love, and I want to live life, not just go through the motions. So that's my little revelation of the day. Seems like I'm having more and more lately. Tomorrow is a brand new year, and I'm looking forward to it. Because I'm a brand new me, and the new me could use a fresh start.

Panic! at the Diner

I freaked myself out today. For just a moment. I was at the Family Diner, a favorite place of mine, with my sister and she went to the bathroom, leaving me alone at our table. Suddenly, I became incredibly aware of my septum piercing, like it was the most physically uncomfortable thing. A moment later I absolutely hated not only the piercing, but all the changes I've gone through that I've been writing about recently. It was the strangest sort of panic, this feeling that everything I was doing was wrong. I felt like my whole world was being ripped to shreds and I wasn't even really sure why, but it had to do with all the changes in my life. The septum piercing was just the catalyst. I even seriously considered taking out the piercing for a couple moments.

I didn't take it out, of course. For that moment, when I was panicking about all the changes I've been making within myself, I even considered undoing it all. I'm honestly not sure why, but for those moments all those insecurities I had before came rushing back. Everything in my life was just wrong. I think my brain just couldn't handle the stress of the real world for a second. It wanted me to revert back to a simpler time, when all it had to do was focus on daydreams and not scary things like the future or change. The moment passed pretty quickly, and by the time my sister got back from the restroom I was back to the Me I've been getting to know lately. It was just a strange panic I felt worth mentioning. It hasn't disheartened my efforts though- if anything, it's made them stronger.

I've been weighing in my head whether to go to Anchorage in a couple days to see my step-sister and step-brother, because their mother is dying and I feel like they'll need me there for them. The closer it gets to when I'm planning on going, though, the less inclined I feel to do it. Scared of the unknown, scared of what will happen if I leave while I'm scheduled for work. I hate my job, I love my step-siblings. How was this even a difficult choice? Besides, New Timmy is far more adventurous than Old Timmy. And right now, I am in dire need of some adventure.

Metamorphosis

One thing to know about me: I never let go. This is true of almost everything in my life. I don't like endings, so even when I leave something I don't consider it ending, I consider it unfinished. I've got multiple books on my shelf that I lost interest in after getting half-way through. They've still got bookmarks in them, because I'm sure that I'm going to come back to them at some point. I'm still friends with the people I grew up with in McGrath, and the friends I made in high school. Even if I drift apart from them or have arguments, I never consider a friendship truly over until one party says so; and, generally, I end up drifting back from time to time.

This is also true of my interests. This is, in part, why I'm having such difficulty choosing a career path and area of study. Take astrology, for example. Astrology was something I became interested in a couple years ago, and sporadically throughout my life before then. And, like most things I take interest in, I became disinterested and more-or-less forgot about it for a while. And then I started becoming more interested again recently. This is also true of my writing, and this blog is a perfect example. Look at the dates from my posts, and you'll find them scattered throughout months at a time. There have been times in my life when I have been entirely sure writing would be completely intertwined with my future.

It's not so much that I'm against having a writing career. Quite the opposite, I'd love to have a future in writing. I'm just skeptical right now because, knowing myself, I'm going to lose that interest again when something "shinier" catches my interest. Maybe that's not such a terrible thing. A writer needs to have varied interests, right? But if I don't work on my self-discipline and focus, I'll never get anything done! Which is kind of what I've done for the past 22 (verging on 23) years. The big revelation I'm trying to make here is I'm changing. Not slowly, not even subtly, but quickly and obviously. It's a physical, mental and emotional transformation, something I can feel in my bones and my soul. A mixture of both big and little things.

I'm growing a beard and a mustache. Doesn't that sound like such a completely mundane change? But this is not only a physical change, but a change in mentality. I used to hate my facial hair, having to shave almost every day just because I didn't want to look scruffy. Now, not only am I okay with looking scruffy, I'm embracing it. I feel better about myself when I look kind of scruffy, I think I look more attractive. I've pierced my septum, which was something I've always thought was really stupid looking until recently. After years of completely ignoring the fact that I'm nearsighted I went to the optometrist and got glasses. I'm considering some changes to my hair and some tattoos, decisions pending.

That's just the physical. Maybe it's my mind's symbolic way of coping with the idea of change. A symbolic "life, death, rebirth" kind of thing. Full circle, and all that. Physical change have always been a constant with me, as ironic as that sounds. My hair has gone through every color on the spectrum (and that's only a slight exaggeration) and my style has gone through goth, grunge, and overtly-gay themes. I have these amazing revelations almost every half year induced by my romantic nature. I'm not sure if this is what is happening to me right now. Maybe, once again, I'm simply following my own pattern. But I really do feel like this is a breaking point for me. For once, I've found an ending that I can not only live with, but think I need to live. I don't mean that in a "suicide watch" kind of way either, but it's only been recently I've felt like my life's started to begin.

I'm making serious plans for my future. I'm losing all those strings that were holding me back before. The insecurity is beginning to melt away, and after finally getting a good look at who I am, I think I'm finally figuring out who I'm meant to be. Or, better yet, who I want to be. I'm finally getting there, guys.