Or, you know, just
hearing myself talk
So I was going to do different
posting this time, but I read a post from why back when (yeah, I like back
reading, and this one was way back, 2010 back, but it’s still relative. I
think) anyway, you want to know what’s what, read here! but basically
this is me talking shit that I find interest, rambling, just need to talk about
and don’t have anyone that cares about the shit I pissing.
2. The Closet (in terms of a person in)
I don’t understand why people talk
about other people, gay people, coming out of the closet. I don’t understand what
the big deal is? (to us, people, to us!) It’s their choice, one that only
affects them, and maybe the guy/girl they are in love with, but that’s
something completely different, isn’t it? More about love than about being in
the closet, it just happens to generally be the problem with them, isn’t it?
But to us, why the fuck do we care?
Why do you need to know what a co-worker/ that guy walking down the street is
doing in there private life?
Gossip.
That all it is, because its
different, its unusual, its interesting and it’s the thing that makes them
different form you, from everyone.
Fucking scary right?
No matter what age you are you
still don’t want to be the odd duck. Hell I think its actually scarier when
you’re an adult because being that odd duck means so much more. It put you in a
spot where there isn’t many. It throws you to the wolves, and you’re not quite
sure if there domesticated or wild. Fed or starving.
Now I don’t completely know this. But
I also know that coming out would be so different with each person. Like everything
else (and what I’m about to say is clearly what I think, I’m generalising).—also,
this isn’t about our acceptance, that’s a completely different topic.
The ones that came out in high
school probably found it harder to hide. Not that they were different seemingly
but it showed more in them. That there friends, bullies, hell parents had that
inkling that they were gay. I’m not saying that these people had an easier time
coming out; humans are masters at not seeing what they don’t want to. I’m just
saying that this part of them never wanted to hide, and these people will nod
and roll their eyes.
They are the ones that can’t help
but see it in themselves, and no matter what it hurts apart of them by not
saying something, even if there not too sure what the reception will be—you can
delude yourself anyway you want, and for a teenager, isn’t it that your parents
will always love you? No matter what?
Some will be able to hid it their
whole lives (if they wish), have families, build lives and never come out
because they were able to supress that gene inside them enough. And though most
don’t believe this is a wise thing—many a serial killers are created, type
thing—it’s possible. And though they might not be completely, 100% happy, in
ways others believe they should be they are content to live out their lives
like this. A lot of heterosexual people live their lives like this, are you all
saying that’s wrong too, that they shouldn’t because they aren’t as happy as
others? That they aren’t living there life to the fullest. Just because they
wish to live this life. This happiness, instead of chase one they might never
find.
Why is it that because they are gay
that it’s a huge deal and they just shouldn’t do it?
(by the way, I’m generalising ‘gay’
for the whole LGBTQ community, I hope I’m not offending anyone because of it,
but it’s easier, and it’s more relevant in what I’m saying. But sorry, I’m not
saying, thinking or believe it as a derogative word.)
These people, the suppressant,
would probably (I reckon, that’s all) that when something happens in the
marriage starts to deteriorate will most likely have the gay one go towards the
same sex person, because why wouldn’t you? Why wouldn’t your thoughts, even the
ones you’re not thinking, would have you thinking this wouldn’t happen if, or
what if it’s because of that? I just feel that even if you are in love with
your wife/husband and something goes wrong, something big, huge, something that
destroys your marriage—and this thing could be just that you are falling in
lust for the same sex, that you have looked at another couple and it all clicks
and you want that. And once you want that, once that thought has propelled you
into something you thought you’d gotten over….well I can understand why that
would start fucking everything up.
Not the point.
Some live in the closest because of
their families, which I believe isn’t a reason to stay hidden but then I wasn’t
born into a family that would give a shit if I brought a woman home and told
them she was my soul mate.
Some is culture and the fact that
they don’t have the money, means or real want to escape. They want to live
where they grow up. They love their country; it just doesn’t love a small,
medium, huge part of them.
And some people out there can get
away with no one ever knowing they are
gay until they start showing up holding hands of their lover. And even then
it’s not a big deal because it never was.
Others it’s not an option, and they
will most likely live without a partner in a way hets would. Or they will be
pushed into situations they don’t want to be in. those people are the ones that
will explode. But if you’re staying in the closest because it’s nice cosy and
you don’t understand why it matters to others, then why not? It’s not like as a
het we are showing the whole world who we are? Hell, you only show what you
want to, and that’s how it should be to everyone.
Unless you have AIDS then you don’t
have to tell anyone anything about yourself you don’t want to, so why are we
always so pushy when there’s no way in hell you’d want to tell someone your
kinks and bald spots. The fat folds and the crazy. So stop asking, if you are
important enough to someone they will tell you ‘cause they want to share that part
of themselves with you.
I know what I’m saying isn’t going
to matter shit. Not really. Gossip is gossip, just like bullying isn’t going to
stop unless us as adult stop, and fuck if that’s going to happen, what would
the politician do for work?!
Now, I do believe that as a person
we have to be ourselves, that the only way we can truly be happy is if we can
look into the mirror and love the person reflecting back at us. I can’t do
this, I don’t really believe that I ever will, not really, not every day,
because that defective part of me (that depression) has too great a hold on me,
and I’ve know my dad, I don’t believe this is ever going away, and my dad has a
‘soul mate’ love with my mum.
Below this point are my own
experiences with becoming heterosexual. So if you don’t care, don’t read on. But
thanks for coming along this far.
I also have some sort of
understanding about coming out. Not so much on actually coming out. I think
I’ve said this, but I’ll say it again, when I was in year 10 I went out with a
guy, Ben, it was a completely peer-presser
dating, I didn’t want it, I didn’t ever want to date anyone at
school. I had reason. Anyway I crumbled;
maybe I did it for him. Maybe I saw something in him that needed it. Maybe I
needed it. Anyway, I was told by one of my friends that there was a rumour going
around that I was a lesbian ‘cause I hadn’t dated anyone. I don’t remember
caring at the time, I don’t believe it was ever a thing for me, I always knew I
liked men a lot more than woman so what if I liked them too. It wasn’t a big
deal.
Not really, my sex was high I loved
everything about it, even though I had never had a bar of it. Though it’s not
really the point, is it, because sex had never been something that bothered me.
I was (am) shy as shit and couldn’t talk to guys I knew wanted in my pants, and
I wanted it so bad. But I loved cock. I loved men. So what….
From that point on I considered
myself bi. I was attracted to parts of woman, and I didn’t see anything bad
about wanting to hook up with one. I never did, it became that same shyness.
But if it was there, if ever it was in my face I hadn’t a problem—and guys
really like it when you start feeling up woman, they buy you lots of free
drinks, and all you have to do is grope a little. It’s fun.
Anyway. When I decided, really
thought it threw, about writing about gay men, more so writing about a boy—and
I have two ‘TragicTeen’ stories involving the coming out. Or the confusion of
figuring it out and making yourself believe. I thought…well what would they go
through….? And well, I had an in. what would I have to think about to
understand completely about myself.
First I found that I had to
actually except this about myself. Yeah I had been talking to others, joking
(but then I did that about turning a guy gay. Hilarious ‘cause like I can do
that, really?) about my love for breast and that I’d fuck a woman without
question—and if it was in my face I probably would, I will make you jump
through hoops (really, I get off on the game) to get into my pants, but if your
persistent I’m not going to shut you down, I believe in rewarding those who
deserve it.
It was actually a little harder
than I thought it would be to come to that point where I could agree to this. Because
it’s one thing to say it. one thing for it to be there in the back of your mind
when I don’t actually acknowledge it. And this would mean that I had to. This
would mean that it’s. If I opened this bag I wasn’t going back I wasn’t going
to make it go away.
And this was coming from me, a
person who knew I liked men. Who loved fucking men. Who loves fucking my
partner. But it was still there, that fear that this could mean something. That
this could be real. That I could open this part of me that doesn’t need
opening.
And this was just to me. No one, no
one else was there. No one would ever have to know this about me, know anything
about it.
I still can’t imagine what people
would go throw when they know, know it deep inside them that what they were
about to learn was going to change their whole lives. That they could never go
back.
It sucked enough for me, just this
first step—the hardest, because of what I found out later on—it was the
hardest. Because you can’t run from yourself, no matter how fast you go you’ll
end up falling over and it will run you the fuck over, laughing as it pulls you
down and drowns you in the knowledge.
The next step, once I let go. Once
I accepted what this could actually mean, was all about pictures. Porn really,
but not so much. I use to watch a porn. it was, well, porn, it had a few. If I
remember correctly—this was before we had the internet in our house, also when
we had a VCR. The first one, very cheesy looking early ’90, was about a couple
in a shower. One was a couple on a couch, and one was a beach setting—lesbian
orgy and it was grossly hot. I actually found that hotter than the male and
female combo.
But that was porn, which was sex,
and no matter what sex is hot. Especially to a person who lives threw there
dick (it’s an apt expression) but I looked at pictures, really looked. I looked
at woman walking down the street. Looked at them in the shopping centre. Which,
actually, wasn’t all that odd. Woman do it all the time, we judge, we comment
on generally everything that walks past us.
There was another part, one that
had me thinking back over my relationship with my partner. With other sexual
encounters, and since there hasn’t been many, and who the fuck really enjoys
there first time—I didn’t, and that wasn’t just ‘cause I went with the first
person I knew wouldn’t make me work for it, and I used him as much as he used
me. hell, he was just a fucking dick to me, that’s all. The end.
There were steps I’m going to skip,
‘cause they are to personal. And I kinda wanna keep a scrap of mystery. Though
you’ll find it’s probably the only scrap.
The memory I remember the most was
actually with my mum sitting as my kids were playing in the kid’s zone and me
and my mum were eating lunch. It was that lunch, that one that I realised what
I had quite known about myself. As I looked at all these woman walking by (mind
you I was in Penrith, and it’s not really known for its….well-dressed woman) and
I saw nothing but woman. I didn’t feel anything for any of them. And yeah, it’s
not that unusual because you generally don’t, not when you’re loved. But sex is
something I breathe, it’s something that….it’s hard to describe, but it’s like
as I watched them all walk by I knew—I knew that woman weren’t what got me off.
It was the sex if anything. It was that that I got.
I can’t say that I felt relief in
knowing this about myself. I can’t possibly tell you what it would have been
like. but at this stage I had also started watching a shit load more gay porn,
as well as het and it was like all these points, plus me seeing something real.
Seeing them though I had never truly looked that had me realising I’m straight.
I will say this though, I feel
better about myself now that I know this. It’s a little strange and yet it’s
not. I’ve learnt this hug thing about me, and when your sexuality isn’t a
question, especially with yourself, you let so much go. Things that you
couldn’t possibly think are sexually related. But it’s all about that point,
about the facts that you learn this.
I don’t really recommend it (not
dissing it, either) because a road that I went on is something you have to be
ready for and I obviously was at the time. Not only because it was something I
was thinking about but because I was at the point that I was able to do this
with the understanding that no matter what I was safe. I had people that loved
me. That it wasn’t actually going to change anything, not in the next couple of
years anyway.
But,
thanks for the time
Me
I have a few topic’s to come, all ready, just needing
verification and some double checking. You know, the shit I’m not known for,
but for these I will.
Anyway, they are here, I have them started, and if you wish
for one to come up before the other, that sorta shit, then…..
3.
Why the LGBTQ community won’t stop Homophobia
4.
What Porn’s Taught Me
5.
What Pisses my off in Erotic Romance in the m/m genre
So, you want them to come out quickly, or do you not care?
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