my cousin is coming to visit
tomorrow
i feel like i'm seven again
that's how excited i am
to see her
cannot
wait

Someday...

Someday
I want a bookshelf
Maybe in my bedroom
Filled entirely
With female black authors.

Maybe a couple of bookshelves.
One might be in the kitchen.
Maybe there will be a whole library.
The wall paper
Will be a field of purple flowers
And the quote
"I think it pisses God off
When you walk by the colour purple in a field
And don't notice it."
Will be in the center

The authors that will
Fill these book shelves will be:
Maya Angelou,
the only nameable poet to the average American,
Toni Morrison,
the last American to win the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993,
Alice Walker,
who coined the term "womanist" and
Lorraine Hansberry,
the first black woman to have a play produced on Broadway.
They'll be the majority of my collection.

But surely they will not be the only ones.
I'll have multiple copies of "The Color Purple".
Every edition that has ever been printed.
Alice Walker will probably get her own shelf.

Maybe I'll label it "Alice's Art"
Or something cute like that.
There'll be a few purple flowers by it.
That book shelf will be covered in them.
No one can have too many purple flowers

Maybe people will glace at it
And wonder "Why are all of these authors
Black
Women?"

I won't answer right away
After awhile I'll say
"They're the only authors I like"
Which is kind of true.
They have written my favorite books.
But more importantly
They've overcome oppression.
Opression
That most people today
Haven't had to overcome.

They're black.
And.
They're women.
They're all feminists.
They're womanists.

They make me continue to write.

The first black woman at anything is amazing.
But the first black woman author at something
Is an even greater achievement.
Oprah is hardly black.
Hallie Berry, see how I described Oprah.
Obama = Oprah

If Michelle Obama would have won
Instead of Barack Obama,
I'd consider the election more impressive.

This bookshelf will explain my life.

Best Lindsay Lohan tweet of all time.

the only "bookings" that i'm familiar with are Disney Films, never thought that i'd be "booking" into Jail... eeeks

4 days left of STRIVE
13 days until I move home
21 days until I move to CA
__ days until I have anything figured out

I'll miss

I'll miss being the only white person
At any bus stop at any given time during any day
I won't miss the occasional other white person
At nighttime who looks lost
And they'll probably get mugged

I'll miss living with people I care a lot about
I won't miss the feelings I feel from thinking about what I'll do
Without them

I'll miss being able to take an hour long train ride
And be around a ton of gay people
I won't miss the train ride back where
The cute twinky guys slowly become straight black guys

I'll miss yelling "DIBS" every time I see a cute guy
I won't miss never having the balls to say
"Hey"
When they pass

I'll miss the city
I won't miss the sirens
I'll miss you
I won't miss who you've become

I'm on to another adventure
Wish me luck

What You Don't Know

I'm moving away to get away from the memories
You're moving back to try to relive them
I'm trying to forget about everything
You're trying your hardest not to

We're in two completely different situations
I have no idea what you must be going through
But one thing I do know:

Moving home changes nothing
You're still the same person
The things that happened still happened
Your friends are all moving away from home

You'll never move again.

Haha

That's cute how you thought saying sorry would affect how I feel about the situation at all.

Dear Kimberlee,

I thought about you probably 50+ times today

That's more than I have in quite awhile.

I thought this was supposed to be getting easy but then I hear of some car accident or I see an old picture or I read our conversations we had on facebook over and over and over again until I get so confused about how close we really were.

Can you read this? If you can I would like to say, I wish I could have known you even better. I'll regret that until the day I die.

I lie in a field to feel the breeze
I walk through the woods to make believe
I clmb a hill, trying to get a little closer
To heaven
To see you
One
Last
Time

I never meant to say i'll miss you.
I'm choosing to forget to say goodbye.
Tell me sorry sometime
I'll answer with a question:
Why?

So...

If Myspace is anything like real life,

was I really you're 3rd best friend?

Well... These Dominos Breadsticks were a mediocre substitute for toppers. Ugh.
The JME BOOM

July 20 2010

I just shaved my beard. It looks obnoxious.
I just ordered 8 cheesy breadsticks from Dominos.
The delivery charge was almost as much as the breadsticks themselves.
This blog is becoming facebook for me.
For some reason, I feel like it's okay to have poor grammar on here.

I'm starting to get mildly excited for Humboldt

And that's that.

I'm sitting on my bed texting this entry instead of writing it. This is what my life is like...

bloom

I deleted my other facebook. I now have zero. Thank God. I now can try to participate in life. Seriously. In real life. But now... this fucking blog has become my life.

Wtf

Something's happenin' somewhere, Baby. I just know there is

So... tonight, I decided I HAVE to eventually delete my other Facebook. I created a second one like 2 years ago for only my "best friends" it started out with like 70 people. Now it's down to 32. That's a pretty good number. However, I've come to the conclusion that it has become my new addiction. I even started going on the fucking Farmville from that account. Obnoxious. Absolutely effing obnoxious. So anyway. My next goals: Quit: News. Blog.

Basically I check the news at least 4 or 5 times a day. It's not good. As if anything happens during that time period. And lately I've been going on here a lot too. I'm starting to think since this is more of my diary though instead of a blog that it's okay because who even reads this?

I'm in frckn' Chicago, going online all day long. I can do that anyway -- I can't do Chicago things anywhere else, and it's taken until I have 2 weeks left to realize that. I've also put my "need" for an iPhone/smartphone on hold, since the only reason I actually wanted one was to go online all day long. The people I know and care about have my phone number. They can call. We can meet up. Facebook isn't needed for that.

Although Facebook makes it super easy to keep in contact with friends you couldn't otherwise keep in contact with, it's almost like that's all I'm doing -- or I'm talking to my roommates on Facebook during the periods of time when we aren't together. Facebook could have been a great idea if you actually stayed with your 30 or so actualy friends and not 450+ friends you don't care about.

It's whatever. I want to say I'll stay off forever, but I'll probably be back on by next week. The main concern I have is I've sort of stoped participating in life. I'm not going outside of the house for longs amounts of time. I'm writing on this fucking blog instead of reading a book. I'm bored. I need to get out and do something...

I'll let you (Crystal since I think you're the only one that reads this) know what my final verdict is

Right Now

In a couple months.
I'll write down everyone
I'm still talking to
From every place
I've ever been.

I hope you're one of them

Come on baby, give me one last look.

Sometimes
I think about not going to sleep for months at a time
Sometimes
I think about all of the things I could accomplish
If I didn't do ____
Fill in the blank.

Sometimes I want
Specific people
To read this blog

When I know most of those people
Are probably unaware it exists.

I'm really trying to not go to sleep tonight
There's so much I could be doing

Sometimes
I turn on my fan too high
So paper and wrappers
From junk food
Blow around in my room
And I have to turn up my speakers
On my computer
Just to over-play a cover of a Bruce Springsteen song

Too loud

So they pop, making my need
For a new computer grow
More than it should

Computers.
Gah.

I just.
Don't.
Want to leave Chicago.
It's not even like this is the best place there is
It's not as if I could see myself
Living here
Forever
It's just it'd be so nice
To stay put for a little while.

Sometimes
Over a period of 16 hours or so
I listen to a song 73 times in a row.
Like
I just did.
And by the time I finish this letter
... at 1 or so
Hopefully it'll be closer to 90

And then I can say
In less than 24 hours
I listened to a song 90 times

I should write that somewhere
Somewhere on my bedroom wall
In cheap lipstick
So it would be
Nearly impossible to remove

Sometimes I miss old parts of my life
Old places I used to hang out
Old people I'll never see again
and I don't know what to do

Sometimes
I pretend I've got it all figured out
I say where I'm from
I say where I'm at
I say where I'm going
And then I don't say anything else
And people eat that shit up
They believe it.

Sometimes I realize
The stuff I write on here
Is probably a little too personal
And if the people that I wish would read it
Actually did read it
They might be a little offended

Or confused

Sometimes
I don't let myself get close enough to people
Because I hate saying goodbye
Because I deleted my Facebook
So now
Goodbye
Might really mean forever.

"I am nothing but tired
I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby
I could use just a little help
You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a
Spark"

Sometimes
I care about the wrong people
I talk to the wrong people
I don't say the right things

I write dumb poems on a blog no one reads

And somehow
Some one is telling me
It'll all be okay
Hey, I got done at 12:50
10 minutes early
But I only listened to the song
81 times

So for now,
My walls stay white.
We'll see each other before you know it

blah catz

so... my time in Chicago is almost up. Goals I made for my summer mostly never came true. Things I wanted to see, I didn't get to. People I was positive I would hang out with -- I didn't. And we keep moving on.

I somehow find a way to make saying goodbye as hard as possible.


F this

huh...

So, as I'm sitting here at 1:11 a.m. with work in the morning I can't stop thinking about life basically. God, this sounds like I'm high -- but let's be honest, no one reads this so I'm not 100% sure why I write this stuff... but I do.

So anyway, the main point of focus is friendships and everything surrounding them. Basically I have no idea how I feel about any friendship I ever made. When I lived in Maryland I didn't make a ton of friends -- but I definitely made some. I've lost contact with every single one of them. Even before that -- when I was on national boards of the UCC I've stopped talking to almost all of my friends from there. Yes, I will admit, I am horrible at keeping in contact. I forget to call, I just don't want to call -- I make new plans, meet new people. Experience life.

So all of my friends from Maryland have virtually disappeared. -- The next step to life after Maryland was Oshkosh. Now, it was definitely not as easy as I would have hoped to make friends in Oshkosh, but I eventually did. Some good friends. Some great friends. People I would consider my best friends. And yet, I have a feeling. A feeling that's more of a fact. Eventually, I will lose contact with them too. I'll suck at staying in touch. I'll move to a new city. I'll change.

My next adventure was Chicago. I can't say I've made a ton of friends but my two best friends here by far are my roommates. They're two of the coolest people I've met. But like every other fucking place I've ever gone to in my entire life -- I know eventually we'll stop talking.

I don't want to stop talking. I can tell them this and we can try to keep in contact as much as possible -- but I know. I know. That it will eventually end.

Friends I made in high school, the ONLY people I ever hung out with senior year, are also fading away. My friend Kim died, and although she wasn't my best friend -- I can say she was definitely a friend. She was a person I lost contact with. We still talked every once in awhile but I moved to Maryland and BAM the relationship stopped being as close. My best friends are changing. We're all moving. Moving in different directions and different places geographically as well. The people I do consider to be my very best friends are really the only people that I even try a little bit to stay in contact.

My next adventure is Arcata, California. Humboldt State University. I know the same exact thing will happen. The. Exact. Same. Thing. I'll make friends. I'll meet some of the coolest people I've ever met. I'll fall in love with these people. I'll want to stay friends forever. But like everyone I've ever met, eventually -- they'll be gone.

Now my number one problem is I suck at continuing conversation with people. But I honestly believe that in every single friendship I've ever made, I've always needed them more than they've needed me. All of my friends have had other friends to hang out with. Other people to do stuff with. I, on the other have, almost always only have them, making the relationship short and me to move on to the next person or group of people.

When Chicago finishes up, my roommates are both moving back to their schools, and they cannot wait. I'm not that excited. I'm not even that excited at all. Once I get to CA it might be a different story. But as for right now, they can't wait to get back together with their friends. Like every other friend I've ever made, I need them more than they need me.

It's depressing to a certain extent but like I always do, I'll meet new people. Become their friends. Make friends with their friends. Move. Lose the friendship.

I'm good at making friends. I suck at keeping them. I have a really hard time. Ever. Having. A. Really. Long. Awesome. Relationship. With. Nearly. Anyone...

People mean a lot to me. But I sort of feel that there is a very select few people that I mean a lot too. That sounds emo as hell, but it's honestly true. Can everyone really be that great at having a large group of friends? I for one, am not.

Dear Kim,

I miss you

A photo. A note.

I thought I was doing good.
I thought I was doing great.
I was perfect

I tagged you in a note
...A few months ago.
-- Almost a year.

It asked me what I would do
If you died.

Did you ever read that note?

Part of me hopes you ignored it
Another part of me hopes you did
So you would know how I feel

I started the answer with
"What kind of question is that?"
I could have just deleted that question
I could have rewritten it
To make it ask something normal

But I didn't

I continued with
"I'd be sad"
And what I meant was "horrified".
I finished with
A stupid
Frown face
And "No more movie nights"

Did you ever read that note?
I kind of hope you did.

I cleaned part of my room today
I cleared things off my desk
-- Things I completely forgot about

A James Dean calender
...A couple of gay rights buttons
A photo of us.

It was of that day we all
Went to Powers Bluff
I remember we had a lot
Of fun.
We were freezing
I bought hot chocolate

But I don't remember a single thing
You said.
I should have brought a pen and paper
To write every word down.

But I didn't

I thought I was doing good.
I thought I was doing great.
I was doing perfect.

And then I read that note.
And then I saw that photo.

I'll always miss you, Kim

I took a photo of us

I'm almost ready to say
"I miss you"
But you can't miss someone who isn't gone.
And you aren't gone.
Right?

Didn't we all silently say
We'd be friends forever?
I'm sure someone said that
Or maybe we all just
Knew

I went to your house the other day
And hung out with all of our friends
I know you were there
You had to be
Somehow

I took a photo of us
A little while back
You're kissing me on the cheek
I can still feel that kiss
I'm positive it's still there
Your lips are definitely
On my face

I stepped outside a store today,
One of your favorites,
And something happened
That's never happened before

I felt the wind
And heard your voice

I knew you'll be with us
Forever

Tonight

I'm 2 hours away
From seeing our friends

Without you

It's been 2 days
So
Instead of crying
Or talking about you

We'll probably just pretend
You're there with us
Maybe we won't be pretending
Maybe you are with us

Let us know somehow
I want to hear you laugh
In the wind
Or see your face
In the pond

Try you hardest to be there tonight
It'll make it so much
Easier

Promise me you'll try?
We'll wait for hours
So you better show up

You promised

A Song From Me To You

I know you can read this...

I wish I would have known
And could have said goodbye
To tell you
You were a really good friend

Thanks for everything
Coming to my house to watch movies
Going on that trip
To go tubeing
Carving pumpkins
Even though mine turned out terribly
Watching
The Golden Compass in your basement
And being so upset
When there wasn't a 2nd
Thanks for being there
To we could hang out
Whenever

You were one of the only people
That kept me sane in this
Stupid town

I know you can read this
And see what I'm writing

So I'd like to tell you
Goodbye
I'll miss you
I love you
I'll never forget you.

Love always,

Jared

Christians, when it comes to homosexuality, man up.

This is a blog post from one of my favorite bloggers John Shore who's blogs are about how to be a Christian realistically and not a wacko. Since I know that who ever reads this will have a fairly short attention span, I'll cut out the parts that aren't that important. Enjoy :)

“We’re all sinners,” runs the refrain. “We all struggle to overcome our sinful ways. Homosexuality is a sin. Just like all of us must strive to control our sinful behavior, so the homosexual must strive to overcome his or her sexual predilection. Even if a person is born gay or lesbian — even if homosexuality is genetic — a homosexual must still strive to overcome the ungodly behaviors toward which he or she is inclined, the same as we all must overcome our lower nature in order to realize our highest.”

That proposition is so logically flawed it should embarrass any Christian who hears it, let alone says it. It completely ignores the crucial, absolute difference between homosexuality and the other sins people typically struggle against committing, which is that committing virtually every kind of sin except homosexuality objectively and tangibly hurts someone. If you lie, steal, cheat, rob, have an extramarital affair, are too greedy, are too selfish, waste your family’s money, and/or do any other kind of sin you can think of, someone, in no uncertain or abstract terms, gets hurt. That rule never changes, and it has as much to do with theology or philosophy as a brick to the head has to do with architecture.

But you take the Bible out of the equation, and what grounds is there for determining that homosexuality is wrong? Who does such love hurt? When two men are affectionately holding hands, who is getting hurt? When two women are snuggling together on their couch watching TV, who is being hurt?

Virtually all other behaviors Christians typically considered sinful can be readily understood as objectively and clearly wrong without any reference to the Bible. But you take the Bible out of a Christian’s hands, and he has no arrow left to shoot at the gay man or lesbian. He’s without recourse, justification, argument. Without his Bible to quote from, he has virtually nothing upon which to base his claim that homosexuality is wrong.

A dim-witted child could see that homosexuality isn’t the same as other kinds of sins. It’s distinctly, absolutely, categorically different. [H]omosexuality shouldn’t be classified as a sin, because it doesn’t meet the first, most important criterion of being a sin, which is manifestly causing harm.

I’m a Christian, and no two ways about it. But I can’t be a Christian so severely lacking in logical powers that I don’t notice the difference between homosexuality and all the other kinds of sins anyone’s always doing. The latter hurts people; the former doesn’t. They’re that far apart.

Also, it’s high time Christians were honest about the fact that asserting that homosexuals should stop acting homosexual necessarily means asserting that they should spend their lives never knowing the loving intimacy with another that straight people enjoy and know to be the best and richest experience in life. Asking a homosexual to give up homosexual love isn’t at all like asking him to give up booze, or greed, or any other such negative thing. It’s asking him to give up love.

I hear a lot of Christians asserting that gays and lesbians should stop acting like gays and lesbians. But I never hear any of them saying the unavoidable follow-up to that — saying what that actually means — which is that gay and lesbian men and women should spend their lives never experiencing what people most commonly mean when they use the word “love.”

When, all along, the Bible couldn’t be more clear about love being the primary characteristic of God. (1 John 4:8: “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” 1 John 4:16: “God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.”)

Something is seriously wrong somewhere in the mix between Christians and Christianity. (And it’s spelled Paul — whom I love, but about whom we really should be more clear. But that’s for another post.)

I want to be the very best Christian I can. And that means being as scrupulously honest as I can. And on the topic of homosexuality, that means admitting that being gay is not like any other sin, and that the Christian proscription of homosexuality is nothing less than a call for anyone who is gay to live their entire life never experiencing the physical expressions of love that all of we straight people happily accept as one of the very best things about being alive. Those two things are true, no matter how many logic-challenged pastors daring to call themselves compassionate Bible lovers claim otherwise.

I didn't cut out that much but if you'd like to read the whole thing, here's the link:

http://johnshore.com/2010/03/13/christians-when-it-comes-to-homosexuality-man-up/

That Green Vase

Remember that green vase?
You know, the one that was always on the top shelf
Of that cupboard you had to go to,
To get the bowls made specifically for cereal?

I kind of want it.
Not to do anything normal with
Like put flowers in it, or leaves
Or crumpled up pieces of paper with your name on it

But put it in some elderly couple’s lawn
An elderly couple that hired shitty lawn service
So the 7th grader who got a summer job cutting their grass
Wouldn’t come that often
Their grass would be so tall that if you stuck the vase
In the middle of the lawn,
It’d cover it up completely.
Then when that stupid lawn boy comes, he’ll run it over
And cut his leg, or break the lawnmower or something.

That’d be a story to tell the grandkids.

Maybe I’d take it to the Antique Road Show
It’s got to be at least 30 years old by now
That’s an antique, right?

I’d probably get on TV
They’d ask me how much I thought it was
I’d say $50,000 and they’d chuckle to themselves
And tell me, “No no no no no, $25”
It’d probably less than $25… maybe 24

If it was at an antique store it’d probably be on the
“Free Crap” shelf
Maybe it’d say “shit” instead of “crap”

No one would buy it
Until I searched through all the antique stores in town
And I found it
And finally it’d be put in that young couple’s lawn
Where it belongs.

I don’t think I ever saw it outside that cupboard
In your house
In the kitchen
Right above those soup bowls
Or were they cereal bowls?
I can’t remember anymore

Besides that one time.

I was at a party you were having
When your parents were out of town
And I asked you why it was out of the cupboard
And you didn’t answer
And the next morning we woke up
And some kid put some beer and a few popcorn kernels in it.
I personally thought it was ingenious,
It finally was getting used for something important,
But I remember you were pretty pissed about it
You cleaned it
For at least an hour
More like ten minutes
Actually, I think I was the one that cleaned it.

You never told me why you took it out
You probably wanted someone to take it
And break it
And make it into an art piece or something stupid like that

If I ever find that vase
That used to be in your closet
With the Christmas decorations
That's where your dad put it, right?
I’m not sure what I’d do
Probably not put it in that farmer’s field
For a tractor to destroy as he made hay
Or harvested corn

Maybe I’d put it in my house
And after a couple years
Take it out of wherever I stored it
And put a couple flowers in it

If you came by, I wonder if you’d recognize it
Outside your house
Without wine in it
Or whatever that red head put in it
At that party you had
In the summer of our junior year

Maybe I’d take it out
At my son’s 5th birthday
And stick a rock tied to balloons filled with helium in it
One if his friends would probably grab it
And break it.
Maybe it’d have to be at his 3rd birthday
Maybe it’d be at my daughters
Or the baby shower I was throwing

What if the kid I get
Isn’t a baby
Can I still throw a baby shower?
I just want free crap from my friends
Hopefully not that stupid vase
But with my luck someone would have found it by then
And thought it was a great gift

An antique
Worth more than $25

I wonder if you’d be there
And notice it
Outside of your house
Outside of your cupboad
Right above those bowls
Made specifically for cereal

Do you remember that green vase
At all?

Maybe I'll Swim

I'd like a better plan
Than the one I have now
I wish I could say I had my whole life planned out
And be happily surprised when something
Unexpected happened.

That'd certainly be nice.
I found a quote.
I'll tell you right now...

"Part of life,
it seems,
is starting over again and again,
each time a little smarter than the last.
It's frustrating but,
and I'm guessing here,
ultimately rewarding."

I wrote it somewhere public
And lied about who it was from
I said it was from a Christian
Internet
Blogger
Who I like almost everything he writes about
When really,
It's about a guy's who's profession
Is unhealthy
And fairly unaccepted by society
Unless you're in Washington D.C.
Or San Francisco
Or somewhere else
Where no one cares what you do

It doesn't matter,
Who cares?
It's a good quote
From a shady guy
Who's name I'll forget in a month.

I wish the next time I started my life over
Or maybe the next time after that
I had a reason to swim
I wish I was good at it

What a strange thing to wish
What a strange wish to wish

Maybe I'll swim
...but probably not
I'd love to tell that to someone,
To muster up motivation to achieve that goal

But truth be told,
It's not something I want in my plan
The plan I want to go horribly wrong.

Who knows though,
Something might come up
Where it fits perfectly

The next time I start my life over,

Maybe I'll swim...

I'd Sing Something Back

Say something unexpected
Say something you've never said before
Tell me a story
You've told me 100 times,
I'd like it just the same.

Whisper a secret across the lake
Light a cigarette
Sit down

Say it loud enough that I can hear it
But not too loud,
No one else needs to know

I'll find a bench
I'll find a chair
I'll find something to sit on
So I don't have to swim across the lake to see you

I'd sing something back
But I've already told you everything I feel like sharing

I think I heard you
I think I heard the secret you tried to whisper
Across the lake

Is it true?
Am I really the first person you've told that to?

I wish you have said it underwater
So I could pretend I heard it
But really I wouldn't have understood
A
Single
Word

I see you light another cigarette
I get up to leave

It's about time you said something
That didn't remind me of a cardboard box
Filled with
Endangered
Flowers

Fly

I'm ending with

I'm writing this all down
from start to finish
I'll start with
"I'll miss you"
You'll read this later.
I'm writing more down
continuing with
"Will you miss me too?"
You'll probably never find this.
I've got more to say,
"You'll lose my number
I forgot to save yours"
You'll have stopped reading by now.
I'm almost done,
just a little more,
"I can't remember if I said
goodbye or not,
I guess it doesn't matter."
I'm done now
I've finished
I'm ending with
"i'll miss you."

Saying Goodbye

I have one week left.
One.
Week.
Left.

To say goodbye

If I could do it all over, I would.
In a second

I'd accept that my best friends back home
Don't have to be my only friends

I'd accept that
I might meet some people that really like me
That might want to be my friends

If I could have only given them a chance

As I sit here and write this
I think about how initially
I wanted to be anywhere but here,

So,
I consider staying
I consider throwing away all my plans.
I think about it so hard
That I forget that even if I stayed,
Nothing would stay the same.

Nothing ever stays the same

People move on with their lives
They move to different cities
Move to different schools
Make new friends
Get new jobs

Change.

And yet, I know saying goodbye
Isn't going to be as easy as I would have
Thought it to be

So I'm going to say it a week early.
Tonight.
To save me from the feelings I would have otherwise felt
I'm going to say it right now
Right this very second.
I'm ready....

Shit.
I can't do it.
Get back to me in a week.

I didn't

I didn't think about you today
I didn't write a poem
For people to guess
If it was about you
Today

I didn't talk about you
To people who don't know you
Or don't care about you
Or have never even
Met you before

Until

I was eating dinner
At a busy restaurant
At night
And for some reason you decided
That would be the
Perfect
Time
To text me
And ask me "What's up?"

So I reply
And you never answer back

Typical

Not really sure
What I was actually expecting back

Sometimes I wonder
How you live your life
And then I remember

You're really not...

A boy once asked me

If this is dangerous,
What do you consider dancing?

A Lady With Orange Hair

One time
A lady
Asked me
"Why do you do
The things you do?"

And I didn't really
Know how to answer.

"Uhh" was the beginning
Of a huge
Lie

"I guess it's fun.
It helps?"

I was trying to convince myself
More than I was
Trying to convince her.

And she said something
That people have said to me
Before

And I never believed them
And I'm not sure
If I'll ever believe another person
It's something
That's hard to accept.

"But why?
You're beautiful.
You're a
Very
Handsome
Young
Man"

And for some reason
I believed her.

She was larger than normal
But I wouldn't say fat

She had dyed her hair
Orange.

It was extremely unnatural
But I kind of liked it

Along with her fake colored hair
Came
Fake
Green eyes.

Contacts.
Colored contacts.

How was I suppose to believe someone
Who
Obviously
Didn't feel the same
About themselves.

I didn't question her
All I said was
"Thanks"
And our conversation
Sort of

Died

After that.

She went on to ask more questions
And tell me about her life.

She said when she was younger
She used to ride
On the top of cars
When they were speeding down the highway

And asked,

"Do you ever do that?"

I wanted to lie again
I wanted to say,

"All the time.
I love it.
I can't wait to do it again
Once this boring ass
Conversation
Ends"

But I didn't...

I think she was sort of
Embarrassed after that.

She felt like she shared
A huge
Secret
With me

Something she hadn't talked about
In quite some time

"Oh...

Well...

Maybe that was something
That my generation
Was into."

Her generation?

How old was she?
I never really looked at her face
Her hair
and eyes,

Her
Fake
Hair
And
Fake
Eyes

Were too distracting
It was a cover up
She was definitely
Hiding
From something.

Her generation.
What did that even mean?

Could she be that different from me?
Just because she grew up
A couple decades
Before me?

Although I know
I'll never see her again

And although our conversation
Was short
And a little
Uncomfortable at times
She changed me

She changed something in me
That I can't really
Put a finger on

She was the first person
Who told me I was
Good looking

And
For
The
Very
First
Time

I
Kind of
Sort of
Just a little bit

Believed her

--JMOA

The reason I love Barack Obama.,,

Skip to 1:20

"I LOVE YOU BARACK!"

Oklahoma accidently passed the wrong hate-filled Hate Crimes Bill

Article from wwww.advocate.com:

Lawmakers in Oklahoma thought they’d figured out a way to exempt the state from enforcing the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd Act, which added protections based on sexual orientation and gender identity to the federal hate crimes act. But thanks to “a legislative error,” the Oklahoma senate has instead passed a bill that sidesteps protections based on race and religion.

Senate Bill 1965, passed on March 10, states that local enforcement agencies should not enforce any sections of federal law listed under Title 18 U.S. Code Section 245 unless they are already covered by state law. But it’s Section 249, not 245, where sexual orientation and gender identity protections are listed. Section 245 outlines protections based on race and religion.

Now that the mistake has been made public, the bill has little chance of getting through the House, according to Sarah Warbelow, the Human Rights Campaign’s state legislative director. But that’s little solace for Equality Oklahoma president Toby Jenkins.

“People are a little embarrassed that it got this far,” he said.

This Week...

So, this week I will be venturing off to Laguna Beach CA with my bff Lauren and obviously her mom as well. It'll be a fun packed adventure full of who knows what. I'll give you all the good stories when I come back. MUAH

Basically what I do on my free time...

Fantastic Justin Bieber Tweets on Twitter

girls of london...please dont bang on the windows of the car when we're moving. u can get hurt. no need for that. i got love for all of u :)

and his newest post:

Wish I could have come out from the performance at the mayfair but security wouldn't let me. For those girls who cursed me out for it...

(continues)

...I'm sorry but sometimes I need to listen to security so no one gets hurt. But I like your attitude. The UK goes hard

Republicans

Democrats

Time is tickin' hearts are skippin'

So I'm not 100% sure how anyone's supposed to feel about Chris Crocker, but I thought I'd shared how I feel for whoever eventually finds out I have a blog and scrolls down far enough to find this. Basically, I think he's still trying to find out he is and in the process is trying to get as much attention as possible. I think he's definitely confused as to if he's transgender or not. He's obviously a transvestite but he's stated in a Youtube video that he doesn't know if he'd ever get surgery.

Anyway, whatever he is -- he sure makes a pretty girl. Just thought I'd share for who ever finds this to know it's okay to think trans people are pretty.

Breaking News: Some Bullshit Happening Somewhere

What is self-importance?

From "How Can I Help?"

I catch myself in self-importance ten times a day -- check that, five -- well maybe once. It's appalling anyway. A little flashbulb goes off and I'm exposed... like Jimmy Olsen catching Superman change clothes in the phone booth.

Westboro Baptist Church

Out of everything they've done, out of every protest at gay rights marches or Lady Gaga concerts or even Obama's daughter's elementary school -- it was sick and wrong, but it's the Westboro Baptist Church -- what are you gonna do about it? This is an entirely different story....

This was in 2007. The dad won the case. Now in 2010 it's at the US Supreme Court, where no one is really sure who will win. Do they have the 1st amendment on their side?

Start at around the 3:50 mark

How Can I Help>

So, I'm reading this book for my Social Justice class entitled: "How Can I Help?: Stories and Reflections on Service" By Ram Dass and Paul Gorman, and although I haven't finished the book yet, this is probably my favorite story. I simply like the story, it's fair to say there's a "deeper message" but to me it just is a good story. So here it goes:

"I'll give you a day in the life.

I work in this program with juvenile offenders, ex-drug addicts mostly. And I'm with this very tough, smart kid who tells me, 'I got no time for programs, man. I seen programs' And I feel like saying, 'Me neither. I'm not so crazy about programs myself.' But here they are and there we were.

'Whadda you know?' he says. 'You're just a social worker. Social workers are nowhere. Social workers don't understand shit.' And he's saying that a little angry and provocative. But it's a little wry, too. He was playing. And I was liking him at that moment, liking his style.

So I go, 'Yeah, all right. But that's all you think I am, a social worker? You don't see anybody here but a social worker?' I was up for playing too.'Well, you got a degree, right? They teach you about other people's troubles, right? That's how you got this job. You the Fixer, right?'

'Sure I got a diploma. I got a wife too. And I got a TV. And I'm into the Boston Celtics. If I'm just a social worker, maybe you're just an ex-junkie. Is that all that's happening here?'

Well, he sort of paused, and he heard it. And there was this moment where I felt something was about to get off the ground, like we were going to get past all this. It sort of hung there, one of those moments when you can feel possibility; maybe we can make it after all. And then...it was like we just missed. You could feel it get close and then pass by. And I swear he sensed that too.

He said, 'You got no idea where I am, man.' And I said, 'Well, you got no idea where I am.' He was being straight. I was being straight. Maybe we'd make it another time. Maybe we needed that honesty. But it was frustrating, because it got so close. I really liked this kid. Like, if we could have talked basketball...

So...bad day, or at least a frustrating one. Anyhow, I come home, lay back, and my wife comes in and tells me she's thinking about quitting her job at the hospital. I sort of half groan and half laugh. I'd been hoping she'd be the one who'd have it together that evening. We take turns being the one who has it together.

'Okay, what's the matter?'

'It's like prison. You've either got an ID badge and a stethoscope or you're flat on your back helpless. It's Us and Them, the sick and the healthy. The patients get bugged, we get bugged, everybody gets bugged. I can't stand the roles and the distances. It's not a hospital -- it's a prison!' And she's laughing a little, but it's a strong feeling. And then she gives me this classic, exasperated line, again laughing, "I don't want to be a nurse, I just want to help!'

So I say, 'Poor kid...' and give her a hug, because it's obviously been one of those days. And I say something like, 'Well, I don't want to be a social worker either. Social workers don't understand shit. But what are we going to do? Who's going to feed the cat? How do we get out of jail?'

We laughed, and had chicken, and talked, and made love. And afterward she said, 'I'm still a little bit at the hospital.' And I said, 'I know, I'm still a little bit with that kid.'