Monday, April 20, 2015

Anti-Gay Day and Bullying

In recent news, students in PA thought it would be beneficial to some to make up a day called “Anti-Gay” day, the day after “Day of Silence,” that recognizes the bullying gays and lesbians have to endure on a daily basis. When will all this end? Who are YOU to judge others based on who they love? How are two males or two females, who love each other, affecting you in any way? See, that’s what I don’t understand about people. Do you think your relationship between one male and one female is affecting them in any way? NO. So why should their relationship affect you?

I don’t like bringing religion into things, but it seems to be the underlying problem with all this controversy. I honestly think that if you have a problem with gays and lesbians, then you have some problem within your religion. I haven’t read the bible (I’d probably burst into flames if I touched it), but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to judge your “brothers and sisters.” But, what do I know, right? Let me tell you what I know. I know I’ve been told on multiple occasions that “God” loves all his “children” or “creations.” Well, if that’s the case, tell me this then. If “God” loves his “children” so much, why can’t he love gays and lesbians? He “created” them too. And, if you think being gay is someone’s choice then you need to get your head out of your ass and take a look around. Being gay isn’t some disease, it’s who the person is. If you have a problem with that, then there is something wrong with YOU. Not them.


I’ll leave you with the wise words of Macklemore: “And "God loves all his children" is somehow forgotten, but we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago.”   

1980s

Like The Breakfast Club,
Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles,
And the Outsiders, your life
Was like a movie.
Fun, nice, cool,

And a lie.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Euphoria

I love bright colored pens that bring color to my life when I write.
I love the idea that nothing lasts forever, that forever isn’t forever.
I love the fact that I’m allowed to believe in whatever my heart desires.
I love that being in love is such a euphoric feeling.
I love all the members of a boyband that continues to take over the world.
I love overcoming the worst challenges in my life.
I love knowing that what I do has the potential to help others who are going through what I did.
I love finding new passions.
I love getting my nails done, feeling like the woman that I am.
What I love the most, however . . .

I love the idea that I saved myself from ending my life when my life wasn’t started yet. 

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Average or Beautiful?

It’s been brought to my attention that women in this day and age don’t see themselves clearly. I have fallen victim to this same problem. The sad thing is that society condones this. I know I can’t blame something or someone for thinking I’m not beautiful. I mean, how can you think you’re beautiful when everywhere you look you see Karlie Kloss on magazines, a stick-thin, beautiful fashion model? Or Taylor Swift, with her blue eyes and bright red lips. What about Cara Delevingne? Or maybe Behati Prinsloo? What about the Kardashian sisters? How could it be easy for anyone to believe that they can compare to these women?

Looking in the mirror at myself, I don’t see anything spectacular.  My red hair that is naturally wavy, but I straighten it, falls a little above my shoulders. I have green eyes, a small nose, and somewhat straight teeth. I wear glasses. I have big cheeks. I’m not stick-thin. Hell, I’m not even skinny. My thighs are huge. I get my nails done. I wear make-up every day; I can’t go a day without wearing some. I refuse to wear shorts because I don’t like my legs. I don’t go anywhere without wearing a jacket of some sort because I think my arms are disgusting. I’m not Karlie Kloss or Taylor Swift or Cara Delevinge or Behati Prinsloo.

BUT I AM ME.

AND YOU ARE YOU.

Who am I to tell anyone that they’re beautiful when I don’t believe that I’m beautiful? You know that quote “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”? I never used to believe in such a thing. But I’ve learned through the years that it truly is in the eye of the beholder…. YOU.  Once you believe that you’re beautiful, nothing can stop you from thinking everyone else thinks you’re beautiful too.
You don’t have to be Karlie Kloss, Taylor Swift, Cara Delevinge, or Behati Prinsloo to be beautiful. You just have to be YOU.

In the new Dove campaign, women choose between two different doors: “average” and “beautiful”. Most of the women in the video choose the “average” door because they don’t believe themselves to be more than that. It’s a very powerful campaign, and sends the right message to young girls who have yet to go through the craziness.
Dove’s campaign: bit.ly/1aF6NsY 

I Am

I am a woman with four personalities.
On a good day, I’m a curly haired guy, who finds pleasure and peace in reading poetry, enjoys pointless tattoos, and is a singer.
On a bad day, I’m a green-eyed, cigarette smoking, car breaking, fucking potty mouthed bad boy, who is a singer.
When I’m in a goofy mood, I’m a blond haired, blue-eyed, guitar playing, always laughing, Irish man, who is a singer.
When I’m feeling like a hopeless romantic, I’m a hazel eyed, leather jacket wearing, sexy dancing, wine drinking, who is a singer.

I am me. 

Sunday, April 5, 2015

The Broken Tea Cup

“My heart,” Catherin said, “was ripped out of my chest when you left me.” “You knew I was chasing my dreams. You knew I loved art,” Mason snapped. Catherin sat down to eat the spaghetti she made for dinner. “I didn't volunteer for this, you know?” She said. “You will forever be my muse.” He smiled and took a drink of tea. “I’m useless to you, you fool!” Catherin screamed. Fireworks went off outside. A dog barked. People were screaming “Happy Fourth of July!” “Useless? Oh, no, no, no. Perfect, maybe.” Mason said. “You have a twisted definition of perfection, Mason.” Catherin didn't move. Mason took a drink and dropped his tea cup on the floor. “Do you want a clean break, then?” Mason asked, standing over her.  She just stared through him. He was a ghost. “I’ve been asking for a clean break since day one,” She said. He laughed in her face and walked out the front door. A car started and drove off. Catherin slammed the door after him and laughed. She walked up the long staircase, leaving the broken tea cup lying on the floor.