Am I Too Territorial?

I was recently talking to someone about threesomes; hey, i may be gay, but I'm also a guy. I said I wouldn't like to have a threesome. When asked why I replied that I wouldn't want someone else to be doing things with my significant other, regardless of gender. I just couldn't have that. It gets worse. I said that I wouldn't want my significant other to make-out with someone else; again, guy or girl. A tap kiss to the same gender is fine: friends do that all the time. My friend said that they wouldn't mind as long as it were two of the same gender, but opposite gender it's different, it's competitive. It's just a kiss means a lot to me. I only kiss those who I am connected to. Oddly enough, I would sooner have sex with a stranger than kiss them. Sex is all about pleasure; a kiss is intimate, a connecting of the souls. Even if I had permission from my significant other to kiss someone else I would feel terrible. I hope I'm not becoming conservative. Someone help me. Am I too territorial? Am I just weird? I don't know. Any insight would be great; please comment me something.

Since When do Pancakes have Sex with Men?

Okay, if you've read my profile you know that I am bisexual. So yeah, I like girls and guys. All my life I've been accused of being homosexual because I was a little different than the other boys. I didn't really like sports, I held theatre close to my heart, and generally I fit in better with girls. As a kid, I wondered why I hadn't had a girlfriend. I proposed I was gay, but I was in denial. That's our world if you're gay you're cursed, so hide your feelings under your bed. Stupid. Ironically, my girlfriend helped me come to the conclusion that I was bi. Does anyone else find that a little weird? I feel happier that I can admit this; my advise to any closet fiends: come out. Things get a lot less awkward and a lot more fun. Lately, I've been in a "close-minded" area. Basically, they are all f****** stupid homo-bashing, George Bush sucking dumb asses. These people use the word "gay" as an insult. I know it is common, but god, give it a rest. "That's gay. You're gay." Shut the f*** up. That's offensive. The only time I better hear someone say, "That's gay," is if i skip around in drag and sing YMCA. The word gay formerly had negative connotations in my personal dictionary too, but I changed. I say, "That's so pancakes." Please people show that we don't always have to beat the people who are different to death with verbal ignorance. I mean look what happen to the N-word. I'm such a scared cracker I won't even write on a blog. I all I ask for is some consideration.

I hope that this entry did not offend any pancakes. I hope that I did offend anyone who supported Bush.

Don't Bogard it, Man!

I don't know why, but for some reason people think I'm a pot head. I'm not saying that it's bad (I don't want to lose my stoner fanbase). Really, most of my family are into that, just not me. I mean I get that I look stoned: rocker t-shirts, dark circles under the eyes, long hair, you know what I'm getting at. I just didn't know people were bold enough to go up and ask someone. I've been asked so many times if I have any greenbud left over. Now, I'm not the kind to make someone look stupid and say that I'm clean. So I say that I'm fresh out. It just gets on your nerves after a while. Anyone else have this problem, or am I alone here?

Christianity one big Train-Wreck

Religion, praise, worship, what ever you call it is all problematic. So many face religious prosecution. Why, because they don't think some bearded dude healed people and turned into a zombie. Now I'm not putting all the blame on Christianity just most of it. Why are the Christians always so up there ass about sinners and sh**? I don't think they worship, they fear. Think about it; you f*** up in life you spend eternity in hell. Let me say that again ETERNITY. No second chances, no make-ups, you are stuck there forever. I think god may be overreacting. So, out of fear the Christians feel they must get as many as they can to convert. Maybe that'll get them on god's good side. I think you should just you know, experience the bad things you did to someone as the victim. It's fair. I have a philosophy. Just be peaceful. Who cares what you believe? Just live and let live or die. You may be wondering, "Oh well what's your religion Mr. Chambers?" Well honestly, I don't know. I wasn't raised with religion. Most of the time my family makes fun of religion. Does that make me Agnostic? I believe something has to happen after you die, right?

Love?

I'm sure most of you, most meaning three, are tired of my blabbering of angels and love. I apologize; I do not wish to bore you with tales of my significant other. It's just you know when you're a young child and someone would tell you they love you? You would be so happy that somebody cared about you; you didn't care about anything else, you knew that when that person said I love you they meant it. Well, my parents don't say it much anymore, and when they do I have trouble believing them. I feel like their love isn't the real love. They love me because they must; my life promises wealth, support, and "happiness". I think love should be more than just what the person can give you. When they're drunk and/or high they don't seem to love me. They hate me: they want to fight me, they want me to cry, they want me to leave. What happened to love? I haven't experienced real love in a while. It feels good. I can't help but be overjoyed that someone really does love me. I'm sorry, I guess this post ended up like the others, "My parents don't care, but she does". This must be dreadfully boring. You have ny sympathies.

Did you Ever?

Did you ever see something so beautiful you could not break your stare? I have. I tell her she is beautiful, but she does not seem to take me seriously. She is the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at her for days and her beauty would never fade. I'll try to put this into perspective. Did you ever see something that left you speechless? Imagine that every time someone answers the door. Imagine every time you see someone not being able to think, speak, or even look away. The beauty hits me like light shining through storm clouds. She will never admit it, but she is one of the most divine creatures on the planet. I call her angel. It's only appropriate: she saved me. The cliche angels created by media and "places of worship" are no comparison. She does not have blond hair, she does not sing, she does not play a harp. She's my gray-eyed, hair-dyed angel.

When They don't Come Home

I saw my father yesterday, briefly. He embraced me, an embrace we both knew as tense. The man has hurt my family numerous times. For some it goes away. I stare at him and see the same man who made a young boy wish he could be taken away from it all. That is my father. He decided to take my mom out. My mom, who has taken the worst from him, goes back with the same smile, with the same ignorance. I haven't seen them since. It's happened before. I've waited and wondered where they could be or what catastrophe could have happened. But it's different now: I am old enough to take care of myself. I don't need them, I never have, they need me. I am a pawn to them. I'm in play whenever I can bring about some sympathy or redress. We've had fun. Empty memories of trips to amusement parks, but I've realized what was happening while I was on that roller coaster. Do they love me? Yes, I am their kin it is natural; they have to. Do they care? I still wonder. Hi mom, hi dad I hope you had fun. And no, I don't mind if you lie in bed for two days because you're still a little f***ed up. I'll have cereal again. Yeah, cereal. Maybe one day I'll be able to leave them, and they'll be stuck with the god damn Frosted Flakes. Do not put blame on those who do not understand what is wrong; blame the person who knows what is wrong and says nothing. I'm sorry Nicky, I should' ve said something. Maybe you would've turned out better. My mom's always said that to me; she's always yelled at me for not being courageous enough to speak out. I'm sorry. I was so young; I didn't know.

Nothing will Take you Away From Me

Hello, I had to post yet another entry about the famous her. Sorry, if you become bored with the topic, or you are as spiteful towards love as I once was. She fears that now that we may grow apart along with the distance between us. But another thing has grown, the love. May I ask her what would I be left with if I lost her? To grow apart from her is to grow apart from myself, which is obviously an impossibility. People tell her it always happens. Alas, people also tell her we are unlike any other couple. Are we not different? I believe so. There is a reason why we met, and there is a reason we love one another so much: so we can not be taken away from each other. If there is one thing I believe in it is us.

Sometimes Things are Different

I'm such a pessimistic person I strive to write about things that piss me off. Every now and then, something different happens. Something good-natured emerges from the bulls*** we call life, and I am compelled to tell all who will listen. This is what happened. If you've been following my blog, which I highly doubt. I mean let's face it; I'm basically writing for myself. As I was saying, if you've been following my blog you know I've posted an entry about "life at home" titled "The Kids aren't Okay". Honestly, I didn't expect much of this; I was just writing about my family. But somebody, a blessed somebody who I love with all of my being, told me things nobody has ever told me. Nobody has ever told me that it wasn't right, nobody has ever told me that it wasn't fair, nobody has ever told me that I can cry on their shoulder. This person is so good to me, and I don't know why. I used to feel like telling others what's wrong would just bother them, and they wouldn't care anyway. I don't feel that way with this person. I see things different now; I still see try to focus on bad things, but I also let the good things shine through. I guess I'm just optimistically pessimistic.
Just in case you are wondering, yes, this person is also her. I'd also like to ask this person to not respond to this in a blog. There is already too much of me on it.

Apology

It has been brought to my attention by a dearly-loved friend of mine that my posts contain some grammatical errors. Now I will admit I am not as well educated as I wish to be; however, this is a blog, does grammar have to be perfect? Everybody who knows who I am carries the information that I am not infallible, but for all ten of you who have read my blog I wish to apologize. Please accept my unfeigned sympathies, for if you are that meticulous I am sorry to propound more frustration into your life. I am truly sorry
For the loved one who brought up my grammar issues, I would like to also apologize for the sardonic tone of this post.

The Kids aren't Okay

Look, we all have troubles with the people who brought us into the world. That alone is sometimes the cause of the hatred by people, being brought into the world, really? I get that life sucks, but how emo are you? Anyway, I too have issues with my parents, believe it or not. My dad: always drunk or high, mommy: always crying or detailing the events of her imminent suicide. That's been life at home for me as far back as I can remember. Oh, I get apologies from them, and I tell them it is okay, "I was too young to remember anyway." Well, you know what? I remember everything. I remember being stricken by my father, I remember my mother being unconscious and me not being able to eat that night, I remember every god damn empty apology, and all the tears they shed just to provide me with a false sense of hope so they could hurt me again. I was stupid to believe my family would get better. It still goes on. Things just aren't okay at home. But I'm not going to cut my wrist, I'm not gonna start using "things", as my mom calls them, to escape reality when it gets rough. I'm just going to live and make sure this never happens to the people I love. I'd like to thank my parents for inspiring me to write this; they finally did something good for me.

Her

I'll admit I am not good at talking to attractive people. Yet, I found someone, her, also known as my angel. My heart beats, my life goes on, I try, I get up, I smile, I laugh, I cry, all for her. I thought I'd never be this mushy person you're reading about. I used to laugh at those idiots for cherishing what will clearly never last. I was the guy who wanted to tell someone they were being cheated on. I would never be one of them; I was of the world. I knew a relationship would just rob me of my soul and happiness. Alas, I am now in love, and I don't feel stupid. I feel happy. That's new for me. I would do anything for her. A life without her is one I don't want. This is the greatest feeling in the world. Treasure those who love you, even if it is only her.

Individuality

You know, there's some much s*** in my life I sometimes wonder "why?". Not that I plan to kill myself and be the subject of some stupid teen help video. All I'm saying is, why do I get so much hardship, or as I like to call it hards****, while others are born with a silver spoon gracing the roofs of their mouths. I see these people on the streets; I try to be nice. I wave and all that Good-Samaritan crap, but then they look and me and think I'm going to rob them. One woman thought I was going to hit her. I know this because she raised her arm to her face and closed her eyes. All I'm saying is people stereotype everything. Maybe I do know drug dealer, maybe I'm poor, maybe I wear a little to much black, but does that make me a monster? Perhaps, but perhaps monster is just another word for individual.