Edge of a Sword

I feel like I'm on the brink of contentment and suicide. Gratitude and resentment. Insanity and clarity.

Mostly insanity.

Plano Balloon Festival

Letter from a friend to her mom

Mom,

It has been brought to my attention a few times over the past couple of months that you are extremely misguided where my beliefs, personality, and intent are concerned. I have let it slide because it is easier to not make an issue out of things, but it's gotten to the point where I really have to speak my mind or I am going to harbor unhealthy amounts of resentment.

Firstly, I would never in my lifetime, try to change someone's beliefs. It is the furthest thing from my mind or desires. I absolutely respect everyone's individual beliefs and their right to hold them. I may completely disagree with those beliefs, and I will not hold back from voicing my opinion and beliefs if the conversation arises, but doing so does not mean I am on a mission to destroy every Christian that I can. If someone holds beliefs that I do not, and we have a discussion about said differing beliefs, then I would hope the person would be secure enough in those beliefs that someone coming from an alternative view would not be a threat to them, and would only present a chance for discourse. It is extremely offensive to me that you feel the need to even warn or plead with my brother that he not let me make him not believe in god, as if that is something I even have on my mind. It just seems like you have this view of me as some malicious individual that I most definitely am not. When I am with people that do not share my beliefs, we 99% of the time, do not discuss those things because it allows us to remain friends without wanting to strangle each other to death over our differences.

Secondly, it slightly boggles my mind that you warn such things and are so worried about them when you yourself do that exact thing nearly every time I see you. I guess it's ok for you to disregard and question my beliefs, because you are a Christian and I am an Atheist, and the bible tells you so. Please realize that my belief in god ended when I was 14, and before that I was skeptical. It has only strengthened as I have grown older and learned more, experienced more. While you see me as a fallen Christian who has lost her way and will eventually find it once again, I have to emphasize that I am an adult with intelligence enough to form a belief, learn and realize things that only strengthen that belief, and I will never suddenly drop them because the great god in the sky suddenly makes inexplicable sense to me. If your god chooses to banish all people who do not follow him, to an eternity of torturous hell, no matter how wonderful they were, how they lived their lives, what they did, what was in their hearts, then I truly want no part of such a petty and infantile creator. Being that I do not believe in this, I am not worried about my afterlife, and you really should not be either. If asking a man into your heart is the sole ticket to a wondrous afterlife, then congratulations to all the completely evil bastards who had the foresight to do so, and get into heaven while billions of amazing people do not. I want no part in such a ridiculous system, and honestly don't think I would enjoy the overwhelming number of completely worthless people that will be populating heaven. Realize I am not referring to you when I say this. I just want you to understand these things, because right now it seems like you most certainly do not.



I couldn’t have said it better.

Rack

8/23
What a lame word. One syllable. Say it. Rack. Thank goodness it has multiple meanings or else I wouldn’t write about it. What exactly is a rack? A towel rack. You hang towels from a bar that’s attached to a wall. Someone back in the day (saying ‘back in the day’ makes me not have to think of an accurate date) must have invented it. Then they tried to dangle from it and it broke off from what it was hanging on and they yelled "RACK" as they fell to the ground. Someone=monkeys. I believe that is exactly what happened and if anyone wants to argue that, I welcome them to my table of knowledge.

Ah, another form of rack. To rack someone can be slang for hitting a guy in the balls. I may have made that one up but definitely not the first meaning.

The last meaning: I told McGuire to say any word and that I’d write about it and she chose rack. I wonder what she's thinking about! Sorry I had to out you Mc, but I didn’t want to seem like a douchebag writing and thinking about racks all by myself. :)

Silly

1

You ask me what being gay means to me. As I plow through the words and phrases that cloud my mind upon the mention of this word, it’s inevitable that I come to this conclusion: being gay, to me, is a contradiction of terms. Now, before you start to judge, and question my belonging in the gay culture, hear out my explanation. One who comes out should automatically feel a sense of freeing. When I recall mentioning the idea of this word and its relation to me, I strongly remember feeling a sense of relief. However, as time went on I couldn’t help but feel trapped. When I first started delving into the gay community I realized that I didn’t necessarily fit in with the crowd. I’m a strong believer in equality. When I say strong, I’m understating my position on the subject. I believe all are created equal, not just gays, but blacks, Mexicans, Muslims, Christians, atheists, etc. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness. However, when you start setting yourself apart from the other minorities, as is natural, you do nothing more than create yourself unequal. The "gay" parties, and the "gay" dinners, and the "gay" friends were annoying to me. I know I sound as if I’m preaching, but please stick with me and I’ll level with you towards the end. Being gay suddenly became a cage, and I felt guilty to hang out with straight people. As I started to drift from my gay friends and became stronger friends with straight people, I couldn’t help but feel trapped in their group either. I can’t tell you how many times I heard the saying "I have no problem with gay people, as long as they don’t hit on me". Their ignorance and inability to see both sides of the equation aggravated me. Now to defend my honor and explain that I’m not at all preaching to you, I have come to realize that I can’t judge people on how they see the world, and I can’t stereotype gay people to all be the same. There are a few gay people I know who DON’T set themselves apart, just the same as there are a few straight people who could care less if I was gay, if I was straight, if I was bi, or even transsexual. But I can’t help to continue to feel trapped, not so much by those surrounding me anymore, but more by the thoughts consuming my mind. Fear of the future, of commitment, of uncertainty. Will I meet someone? Will I have kids? Will I lose my family? Am I really gay? If I come out, will people hate me? Being openly gay, an action that should bring one clarity and happiness, brings me happiness that is sadly overpowered by confusion and inner debate.

Weekend

This weekend went well. Took Katie to the Texas State Fair Friday with some friends. She even rode the huge ferris wheel! And fed a giraffe.

Saturday was Sara Bareilles. I'm in love with her. But that's nothing new.

Now it's Sunday and I have to work tomorrow! Sad :(.