090: Did You Miss Me?

Well? Did you?

No? Okay, I didn't miss me either.

But anyways, let me give you a quick recap of what has been happening with my small, insignificant life.

Last weekend I was in our nation's capital for work, which I have to say was...um, what's the word I'm looking for, oh yes, boring. But I have to say, after being away for a good nine months, it was nice to be back. I've got to see one of my roommates and a few friends I've made there. Catching up and telling each other what our plans are for the near future, seeing how we progressed in that short time span, it just reminded me that life is never stagnant. Yes, I've complained many times, well, not here as much, that my life seems to go nowhere, like being stuck in traffic. But seeing my own life through their eyes have shown me that indeed I've made progress and grown in maturity and in strength.

This weekend, I was down in Florida, Cocoa Beach to be specific, for my friend's wedding, my friend, whom I visited in Seattle. Now I don't see him, or rather I can't see him as a kid that I hung out with in Japan, but an actual grown up with real grown up responsibilities. There's a small part of me that is extremely jealous of the life he has started. It's strange, really, that this boy, Me, with a Peter Pan complex is jealous of someone who is actually growing up before Your Truly's, My, eyes.

Anyways, next weekend I will again travel, this time to the West Coast, to attend another wedding. This time it will be for a college buddy, my freshman roommate, whom, when I first met him, I thought, he would one day tell me that he is gay. How ironic that one day I'd be the one to tell him that I'm gay.

Well, people, that is all. Continue with your precious lives.

089: Falling

I dreamed I was falling, my arms flailing; falling deep into... where?

088: Don't Miss Me Too Little

I would like to write a follow up to my prior post, letting you all know that I do feel better than what the last post might have implied. Partly, I guess, it's because work has kept me busy, preventing me from wallowing in despair, and because one of the challenges left me in the comment section got me thinking... It's not that I've ever thought there wouldn't be a light at the end of the tunnel, there is... right?

Anyways, I'm going to be thoughtful and stroke my own ego by writing a list of things I like about Yours Truly. I will.

But before that I must inform you that there will be an absence of my presence for a three days time. Alas, where I go, you cannot follow. Unless you want to get yourself to New York Penn Station and purchase an Amtrak ticket to go down to Hades, I mean, Washington, DC, and watch me not have fun, but sweat blood and tear for the Man. The corporate drone must, MUST, work-work-work.

Hey! If any of my readers in the DC area wants to hangout with Yours Truly, call me! My number is 2xx xxx xxxx.

Addendum (12:06pm): Hey? Why is my number showing up like that? Okay, let try again, xxx xxx xxx1.

Addendum (12:29): WTF? Forget it!

I shall catch yous all laters.

087: Inexplicable Funk

I’ve been staring at a blank word document for a good two hours time wondering how I should begin this post.

Correction: make that, five days. After that first sentence, I’ve spent the better part of those five nights opening and closing this document without much progress…

Okay, here I go…

Ever since Seattle, despite all my attempts just to carry on, trying my utmost to find a so-called happy place, I am in a state of funk. Add to the fact that one friend saying this and another friend echoing the same sentiment leaves me feeling… Forget it, I’d rather have a taste of gunpowder in my mouth just before everything turns black or have a cold steel blade slicing my insides in a HARA-KIRI ritual, than talk about how I feel. I’m just in a state of funk.

funk 1
noun
1 (also blue funk) [in sing. ] a state of depression : I sat absorbed in my own blue funk.

This streak of blue piercing my very being has made me furtive.

furtive
adjective
attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would lead to trouble

But I can’t let myself be in this state any longer—I am not invisible and I am not meant to live in darkness of guilt and shame. I’ve descended into a valley of my creation. But I’ve not yet reached the deepest point. Once there, perhaps the ascent to the light, out of self-pity and loathing, will be a certainty.

So, I’ve decided to quicken my descent by writing a list of what I hate about myself. I mean if I can’t use my own blog as a sounding board for my own neurosis, where can I? (Actually, I may one day find myself lying down on a psychiatrist’s chair, spilling my guts out. But for the financially challenged Yours Truly, I am satisfied with my blog.) Perhaps years later when I refer back to this list, I may have made some progress and have become someone who is not by any means the person on the list. Or at least I’ll have a good laugh. Hopefully, we all will.

The list, in no particular order:

1. I hate that my big head sits on top of a skinny neck and a small-framed torso. How my head doesn’t just roll off my body is a mystery.
2. I hate that when I look at myself in the mirror and turn side ways, I am a flat board. Think, stick figure with a big balloon as a head!
3. I hate that my face has everything in common with a pepperoni pizza pie.
4. I hate that I fit the stereotype: “all gay men suffer from a poor body image.”
5. I hate that I don’t fit the stereotype: “all well dressed, good looking men are gay.”
6. I hate that I care about this superficial vanity when there are people suffering, especially the Katrina evacuees.
7. I hate that I threw in No.6 only so that people won’t find me vapid and shallow.
8. I hate that I care about what people think about me.
9. I hate that sometimes I care too much that I want to do everything I can to make things better, but when I try to put words into deeds and find it difficult, I shut down and I stop caring about everything.
10. I hate that sometimes I don’t care at all, wanting just to mope around in my own filth, but when I hear something that makes my heart bleed, I get fired up and energized.
11. I hate that my best friend is Netflix. But recently, I got premium cable channels, so Netflix is quickly losing that status.
12. I hate that, although I say becoming a doctor is a dream of mine, I can’t seem to get myself motivated to realize that dream. In other words, I still haven’t finished my application essay. Fuck!
13. I hate that I moan about my pitiful status quo continuously.
14. I hate that I was born into my family.
15. I hate that I’m my dad’s son.
16. I hate that my mom suffered so much, but I can’t do anything to make things better for her.
17. I hate that if and when my mom finds out about me, her heart will be broken.
18. I hate that I was born a Korean.
19. I hate that I want my dad to know about me, so that I can see his heart break.
20. I hate that I have a distant father, emotionally and physically, and an overprotective mom.
21. I hate that my mom didn’t divorce my dad before I was conceived.
22. I hate that my half sister has known my dad more and better than I ever have.
23. I hate that my sister had known the love of two parents while growing up, while I had only one.
24. I hate that when my sister lost her mother through cancer, I neither felt bad nor sorry for her at all.
25. I hate that I can be so cold hearted.
26. I hate that I can’t let myself get close to anyone.
27. I hate that I constantly live in fear of rejection.
28. I hate that, because I don’t want to be rejected, I play the doormat for all to trample on.
29. I hate that I have no backbone. I’m a coward! A chicken shit.
30. I hate that I’m a loser.
31. I hate that I suck at sports.
32. I hate that there isn’t any one thing that makes me stand out. Let me tell you, I know, I’m as interesting as watching grass grow.
33. I hate that, although I started this list with the intention of infusing it with some self-deprecating humor, I’m failing miserably.
34. I hate that I’m infuriatingly moody, especially now.
35. I hate that most people I know from my graduating class are making more money than I am. Not that I really care. Whatever!
36. I hate that my friends can say in one breath that being gay is not a sin, but having gay sex is, even if it’s sex rooted in love and commitment.
37. I hate that their response is exactly what I had expected.
38. I hate that God “inspired” Moses to write something so hateful as to condemn a group of people for generations.
39. I hate that God “inspired” Paul to write celibacy is what’s right by God, and thus holy.
40. I hate that I lived by Paul’s stricture.
41. I hate that since I’m fucked if I do and fucked if I don’t, I should just fuck!
42. But I hate that if I just fuck I’ll be proving the right wing Christians’ point that it’s a lifestyle of choice, that sex between two men is not a real, true expression of love, that it’s an abominable act.
43. But also I hate that I know I’ll never fuck for fuck sake because I’m a fucking chicken shit and that I won’t actively search for love because, again, I’m a fucking chicken shit.
44. I hate that I can’t be eloquent in expressing these thoughts.
45. I hate that there’s not even one iota of irony or sarcasm in my list.
46. I hate that I feel hatred towards God now.
47. I hate that I feel hatred towards my “Christian” friends now.
48. I hate that I want to be the one to discover a pill to make people not gay anymore.
49. I hate that the natural conclusion to this list is so obvious.
50. I hate that I loathe, LOATHE myself.

I think I’ve hit bottom.

Hey, do you think my readership will increase after this?

Hahaha. Probably not.

086: In Remembrance

As the names of those who died on the day when the world turned upside down are being read by their brothers and sisters, and although I do not know any of them, I remember...

085: Hungry, Hungry Hypo...

...cricy is what it is!

Someone once told me that being gay isn't a sin. Fantastic! Yet from the same mouth I heard that for a man to sleep with another man, well, it is NOT something God intended. Therefore to act contrary to what God intended, well, it's sin, isn't it?

Once I made an argument that in the Bible eating pork is considered a sin. But now I want to make another argument. Did you know that in the Bible menstruating women are to be set apart from the community because they are considered unclean? Women are penalized for a natural biological function. So in essense, it isn't a sin being a woman. But, well, because they menstruate, and God requires that they be quarantined, so as not to "dirty" or "make unclean" anyone who may come in contact, isn't it a..? And guess what? Peter the Apostle didn't dream Jesus coming down from heaven with menstruating women laying on top of a clean white sheet telling Peter it is okay to accept them as clean like He did with unclean foods. Yet, no Christians, even the ones that tell you it's not a sin to be gay, these days will ever say to a menstruating woman "it isn't a sin to be a woman, but since you are bleeding down there, I would like you to get thee out of the city gates until Aunt Flo goes away."

There are lots of laws in the Bible telling you what to do and what not to do, so that you stand right with God. Yet many Christians pick and choose what to follow and what not to. God's Grace, indeed!

So, hold steadfast to your beliefs. I don't expect anything otherwise.

You and I, we stand in dissonance.

***

To change the subject, I'm in a funk.

***

Addendum (09/14/05): I just wanted to provide the Bible reference for those of you who are interested. Leviticus 15: 19-32. I admit I've made an error when I said a menstruating woman was to be sent out of the city gates. She just needs to be kept away from rest of society, because anybody and anything that comes in contact with her is made unclean. After a woman is quarantined for seven days, on the eighth day, she must make a SIN offering, a SIN offering. I hope this clarifies.