The Frog, The Turtle, and The Fish

Sometimes being on tumblr makes me happy, its helps me relax and focus on my thoughts more, one at a time really, rather than having them ricochet through the thread tangled masses of my mind. Scrolling down through pictures helps me evaluate them slowly, see what each of them means to me, holding them in my hands, caressing and carefully examining them through ruffled feathers before releasing them back in flight. I see more of my kind there, like refugees. They tell their stories and well, sometimes I am able to relate, other times I can't, because, well, everyone's got their own story to tell. I saw this story back on tumblr:

"Someone asked me why I am so nice to people who treated me bad, and I didn't know the answer. Then during class, I looked around after finishing my test and realized why. I looked at the boy who made fun of my inability to do math, and his head was on the desk and he looked tired. I know he played in the band, so he had to be at school early and I wondered if he had something at home keeping him up or maybe it was the amount of classwork teachers assigned. I looked at the girl who returned my hellos by snapping her gum and twisting her hair. I knew her and her boyfriend broke up, and I wondered how hard it must be to have everyone concerned in your business. He could probably be a jerk, and I knew she only acted dumb in class so people would like her. And I thought about the boy in PE who picked me last for teams, how squinted at his paper and furrowed his eyebrow. It must be a lot of work always practicing, and then also having to get good grades and go to college. And then there was also the girl who everyone thought was a bitch, but little did she know I saw the scars on her wrist, and then there is the girl who is always reading, and I wonder what she got from those books or if she is running from something. And there is the boy who always wears that shirt and I know his shoes have holes in them because when it rains he complains about wet socks, and I wonder if his parents work hard for him or if they drink a lot and I wonder if he feels outcasted because he has so little. And the other boy who just moved here from Mexico, and he doesn't speak a lot of English, and I can only imagine how confused he is. I can't imagine learning this stuff in a new language. And even the teacher, I noticed he wasn't wearing his ring today. Maybe he is giving us more work and more homework because he wants us to do better than he did. The point is, I look at all these people and realize that they have their own troubles and their own demons, and the last thing I want to do is add to them. Its a lot of pressure growing up, and no matter what anyone says none of us have it easy."

Sometimes being on tumblr makes me lose the little faith that I have. I see these pictures of men with hot bodies and loads of comments by girls saying things like "My future husband has to look like this or else" or "Why don't all guys look like this" or "If you're a guy who doesn't look like this, you should be ashamed". And when I read those comments, I can just feel the few drops of fuel I have left in my heart to keep moving, just seep away. Its like a race between a frog, a turtle and a fish as to who can run ashore first. There are some guys like the frog, born with a good physique and face, easily able to reach that objective. There are others who are like the turtle, there's some work to be done, but they will reach their destination in due time. Then there are fish. You can't even reach the shore in the first place, you can swim as hard as your pathetic fins will take you, but you'll never get there. You can be some sort of a man in other people's eyes, or a lesbian or a butch or some retard you know how painful it is to hear that? You will never be the man that a girl will shyly whisper to her friend "I wanna marry him." Because no one can see future with you, so they aren't even willing to try. You fucking called the girl I like 'homophobic' for not wanting to be with me, what the FUCK is that supposed to imply!? You know how I identify, how could you even say that? Handsome. If I could be called that do you know how happy I would be? Do you know why it makes me feel so happy when someone can put their hand on my chest. I can't even get any of those without possibly asking, but you know why it makes me so happy? It means they think of me as a man, even if I have to ask for it, it somewhats eases the wounds of whatever manhood I have that gets stomped on every single day by the judgemental eyes of this society, of my family even. How do you expect me to believe in myself after so long, i'm so tired. 

Sinners

“‘Homosexuality is a sin. Homosexuals are doomed to spend eternity in hell. If they wanted to change, they could be healed of their evil ways. If they would turn away from temptation, they could be normal again if only they would try and try harder if it doesn’t work.’ … These are all the things I said to my son Bobby when I found out he was gay. When he told me he was homosexual my world fell apart. I did everything I could to cure him of his sickness. Eight months ago my son jumped off a bridge and killed himself. I deeply regret my lack of knowledge about gay and lesbian people. I see that everything I was taught and told was bigotry and de-humanizing slander. If I had investigated beyond what I was told, if I had just listened to my son when he poured his heart out to me I would not be standing here today with you filled with regret. I believe that God was pleased with Bobby’s kind and loving spirit. In God’s eyes kindness and love are what it’s all about. I didn’t know that each time I echoed eternal damnation for gay people each time I referred to Bobby as ‘sick’ and ‘perverted’ and ‘a danger to our children’. His self esteem and sense of worth were being destroyed. And finally his spirit broke beyond repair. It was not God’s will that Bobby climbed over the side of a freeway overpass and jumped directly into the path of an eighteen-wheel truck which killed him instantly. Bobby’s death was the direct result of his parent’s ignorance and fear of the word ‘gay’. He wanted to be a writer. His hopes and dreams should not have been taken from him but they were. There are children, like Bobby, sitting in your congregations. Unknown to you they will be listening as you echo ‘amen’ and that will soon silence their prayers. Their prayers to God for understanding and acceptance and for your love but your hatred and fear and ignorance of the word ‘gay’, will silence those prayers. So, before you echo ‘amen’ in your home and place of worship. Think. Think and remember a child is listening.” — Mary Griffith

I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.
I hope I don't wake up tomorrow.

Waters Rising

Have you ever loved someone so much, you've given all for her? No not the expression, no, literally given all for her. When they know they're your heart, and you know you are their armour, and you would destroy anyone that would try to harm her. But what happens when karma, turns right around and bites you, and everything you stand for turns on you to spite you. What happens when you become the main source of her pain? God, I couldn't even remember her name.

There's this girl. She's everything I aspire to be, responsible, hardworking, excellent at prioritising, charitable, always willing to give back to society, intelligent, doesn't care much of what people think of her. She's never been in a relationship before. I was troubled. I liked her a lot, but somehow I felt so ashamed, like a rotting carcass washed up ashore amongst reeds and weeds, trying to get back up but falling on my knees. And you just don't court someone when you're unprepared this way, no matter how you feel, right? I care about this girl, and above that, she's a really amazing person, she deserves someone as closely amazing as herself. First relationship. You lose many things then. Your first kiss, first love, first memories of so many different places and things, I don't want her to settle for second best for all these special things, they're gonna be things that she's gonna remember as she grows up, and I think she deserves better. I'm not ready for a relationship and I know that, which is why I'm not going to approach her in any way. Her first relationship, I don't want her to suffer with someone like me, she shouldn't have to face that. After what I've been through, I know better than to let any girl suffer with me. So I'm willing to give you up, just so you'll be happier in the long run. I'm losing my touch in writing, and I feel like I'm losing my faith. I'm going nowhere. There's nowhere to turn, there's lights everywhere but they're not to guide you, no every direction you turn it's like they're out to blind you, and the intensity is growing as all around you is glowing and there's all these steps you are throwing but no way to know where you're going. It's madness, the kind I should keep to only myself.

Chris Miles

This is Chris miles, off of the series Skins. He is known to rob/snort/screw/smoke anything and everything, but above that, he will say yes to everything, he loves everyone around him. He died later on in the series due to a subarachnoid hemorrhage, a hereditary condition that his older brother passed away from as well. During his funeral, his ex girlfriend said-

“I've been thinking about what Chris would have wanted me to say today. The advice he'd give me, which'd be something like, 'Know what, babe? Fuck it. These guys know all about me. Tell them about someone different.' So I thought I'd tell you about a hero of Chris's: a man called Captain Joe Kittinger. In 1960, climbing into a foil balloon, Captain Joe ascended 32 kilometers into the stratosphere. And then, armed only with a parachute, he jumped out. He fell for four minutes and thirty-six seconds, reaching seven hundred and forty miles per hour before opening his parachute five kilometers above the Earth. It had never been done before, and it's never been done since. He did it just because he could. And that's why Chris loved him - because the thing about Chris was, he said yes. He said yes to everything. He loved everyone. And he was the bravest boy - man - I knew. And that was - he flung himself out of a foil balloon every day. Because he could. Because he was. And that's why - and that's why,.......we, we loved him.”

And I found what she said to be a very beautiful thing. Its a reflection of the words by which I live my life: To do anything to the mind's limit and bear the consequences. To do something just because you can, to make your own history by your own standards, and who knows, you might just become someone others turn to for inspiration. I'll towards for this.

Ps. I'm free this Tuesday.

Throwback

Today I read back on some old conversations I had with you about a year back now. Its funny, to think that I had saved these conversations for a future reading, its funny too how I could even open them up to read through them once more. It was a happy conversation. It started out with a little trouble coming from somewhere else, but we stuck by each other's sides, and we made happiness once more. I sounded so happy back then. Like I had exactly what I wanted in life. I've never seen someone so happy to call me 'mine'. It was almost like putting a stake on me, pulling me firmly by the hand by your side, but there's nowhere I'd rather be. Even back then we had some troubles seeing each other, I recall the conversation:
You: hope to see you....soon?
Me: I hope so too, 3 or 4 days more I should think, but remember that till then you'll be in my heart, and for always
You: For always, I love you.
We wanted more than anything for each other to be happy. I read how when I first told you I wanted to get a surgery on my chest, you said that you'll love me no matter what as long as I'm still myself inside. And no one's ever told me that before. Even now. And you told me that if I allow you to do your research to make sure its all safe (because safe enough just wasn't good enough), you'd be by my side. And you thanked me for trusting you, and for telling you that even though you might have guessed for some time, and in that moment, I must have felt nothing less than a loss of words and gratitude. We were a very very sweet two. And you were very very beautiful.

You still are. I miss you.

I'm a freak. Sobbing. Train wreck in a tornado. Shaking. Freezing underwater, under the ice, try to breathe, the water is sucked into your lungs, ice shards tear into your chest. Chest. Hand on the chest. Warm. No. Rip it off. No. Calm me down, now, anyone. Anyone. Stop this. Can't talk to ANYONE. There's absolutely NO ONE. NO ONE. Empty room. White empty room. White gunshots. Alone. No one shooting but gunshots. They're invisible. No one. Never confide again I'm so stupid NEVER. Never again. Shut off everyone. Pretending. Hard stone. Don't let anyone in. Shut off. No more. Sick. All I want is one night to sleep without a shirt and someone's hand on my chest without feeling wrong and dirty.

Nothing Much

Balian Buschbaum

This man is my idol. He is a former pole vaulter, he has a wonderfully taken care of appearance and body, and he was assigned female at birth. Look at him now, he's gotten so far from where he started and he inspires people like me to chase after what I want, and to never give up on it. He gave up his sporting career to do what he wanted and undergo gender reassignment surgery and I really respect him for that, since he already made it so far in the olympic sport. He had a future there. But now he's back on track as a coach, with an identity he can fully identify himself with. I hope I can be like this in the future.

I feel terribly lonely tonight and this time, there's no one around. I feel that my friendship with certain people are failing because I'm stupid enough to believe what they say when they say there's gonna be time, they're gonna be there after this, so on. I seem to never learn my lesson that there is no such thing. Even if there's extra time, it doesn't mean that the time is meant for you. Sure, maybe they said there will be time for you, but when the time comes, other things just takes precedence over your existence.  Its like how the rain falls because the sky cries for the withering plants, they're only there to take on the role of sympathetic eyes and words when you fall down to the dust. You're like a beggar or a sad busker, the kind that sits by the curb quietly awaiting some company, maybe a friendly person to come by, maybe, maybe, and the longer you wait the more you realize that nobody's gonna come for you, no one is going to take the step to start a conversation or offer a smile. You're tempted to run in front of a moving car, but you don't want to seem to be demanding attention, but the feeling creeps up again whispering in your ear tales of your forgotten existence, but you hold back, maybe there's still a chance, but the need for comfort is almost as crippling as the snow by your feet, but maybe this stranger, no he walks by, maybe the nex- but you give in.

The ambulance comes.

Someone must have noticed you exist.

Its a surprise how they flock when the soul has been sworn to leave.

What I Know About You

I know that you would rather lie in bed through the mornings than get up.

I know that cold rainy days are always nicer than sunny ones, except when there's something to be done.

I know that brands matter to you, but you're alright with normal things too.

I know that the reason you don't like eating prawns is because you don't know how to peel them.

I know that there is more satisfaction in writing a line that speaks your mind entirely than completing a song.

I know you never fully remember the lyrics to the songs you wrote anyway.

I know you've always wanted braces but they're too expensive, even though I prefer your smile this way.

I know purple was the colour of the contacts you wore when I first met you, next to grey.

I know you used to walk while dragging your shoes all the time except when you're wearing heels.

I know that you happen to look very nice in a maroon Garfield shirt.

I know that you probably enjoy swings more than little kids do...and probably more terrified of the swinging than they are as well.

I know that you watch the lights of the runway get smaller until they diminish as an airplane takes off.

I know that you believe perfection is spoken in poetry.

I know that you look at details when it comes to flowers. You prefer white roses to red and you especially appreciate it when each flower is wrapped separately by itself. You look at the number of roses. You never throw them away.

I know that you happen to have a soft toy cat (that you find creepy) AND a soft toy duckling which is coincidental to what I call you.

I know that the letter L is missing from your keyboard.

I know that your house phone can make calls to other numbers, but other phones cannot make calls to your house phone.

I know that you used to wear light blue socks to school even though we were supposed to only wear white.

I know that you prefer necklaces to bracelets and earrings to necklaces. And I'm willing to bet, shoes to earrings.

I know that you've fallen in love with the art of expression, a form which you can control and tweak to your own style and liking.

I know that you've always had a strong taste in expression, a purpose in words stencilled in ink on your skin, a splash of colour to the tips of your hair.

I know that your eyes were never equal, I never grasped the different names for your eyelids, but one makes your eyes prettier while the other makes your eye more catlike.

I know that strong brewed coffee and dark chocolate will make you sneeze.

I know that the unspoken words in this passage are probably the things I know that means the most to you.

Weighted

It's so difficult to do this with no one by your side. Some transguys out there are so lucky to have their family by their side. When your parents are head on against this, you can't bring a girl home to introduce to them, you can't get the proper medication you need, you can't work out without them questioning and telling you to stop, that you cannot work out so much because you are..a girl. And sometimes when they tell you this it all gets too much, and you just kind of lose motivation, lose hope in yourself that you're ever gonna get better. It's like you're stuck in this whirlwind and you keep swimming, you just keep swimming because you don't want to drown into that dark abyss beneath you but you're just gonna end up swimming at the same place because you can't go anywhere. It's like all I'm doing is for nothing. I can't even grow because I don't have enough to eat, my parents will buy me things I don't even need for school, but when it comes to food, I can't even get proper nutrition, even enough. They're fine with any food outside, but they know I have to maintain my diet, but do they care? No. They just want me to be the same as anybody else, I don't see why I can't do better. This is all going nowhere. How do I fight a battalion with no armor and no weapons? I may as well just slip into neverending psychosis of stillness now. I'm tired of this.

Family Acceptance

Family Acceptance Project

Family acceptance is the one thing that would change my life and would be all I need. Its all I'm asking for. If I pray quietly every night for the courage to let my parents know, or the patience when they judge and hurl insults and me, or the strength to stand up for myself when they tell me all I am is a lie, what are the chances of my prayers being heard? I saw a photo set once on Tumblr of an interviewer asking a gay man "What do you hope God will say to you at Heaven's gate?", and he simply replied "Don't listen to them, you get to come in too." And I admit I have been a bad person, I lie to take the easy way out and don't spend enough quality time with my family. I want to be a good person, I really do. But its so hard if, in order to be a good person, I have to lie to myself about who I am. 

If I could just wake up next to someone and kiss them on the forehead good morning, give them foot massages without them asking for it, make little knick-knacks by hand to give them as little gifts without having a reason, run over like a superhero with a cape during a storm but actually the cape was a blanket that I'd share with the her, make the person a child at heart where she could enjoy all the little things in life again, and do all these things with a blindfold on her, then maybe she wouldn't realise that this person who loves her is condemned to a living sin. Then maybe she won't be afraid to love me back. But I am a tornado. I hurt what I touch with gentle hands, and pull them into the same twisted fate that I am trapped in. I throw broken glass on the path on which a person walks, while the rose petals that were meant for that are crushed in my spine. 

I'm sorry for being a disappointment to my parents. And as the man in the video says, I just want to be normal.

Killer Workout

Frank Medrano and Antoinette Pacheco

This is beast, seriously. Major motivation right here.

Edit.
Nothing can bring me down tonight, not even the person I care for happily strolling home at midnight and having to message her first and her saying she didn't forget which, I mean, if you didn't forget then you'd message right? No? ah doesn't matter right now I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY. After over 10 hours straight on the computer today binding renderings, rushing autocad details I haven't done, adjusting plans and grids and all that bullshit, I AM FINALLY DONE. And it's not just any done, I'm done with a tiring, draining semester long project! All the time spent starting with choosing our client, filtering out concepts (I hate this because my teacher is bloody dumb), sorting out structural stability, making mock-up after mock-up, sorting freaking drainage and sewer systems and site analysis and how all these tie back to your main concept, it is finally OVER. Well technically there's still critiques and other side projects but this main block over my head is done. And now all that's left is this feeling of major accomplishment that I've actually designed a livable and workable house! My first house(: and it's funny that I can't even tell this to my parents let alone anyone else because everyone thinks designing a house is easy and no one's gonna be proud of my very first little step to being an architect but right now, I don't really care, because if anyone knows all the bullshit that goes behind building a decent shelter, I do! And so does everyone else in my cohort who's probably rushing out their work right now too and I seriously feel like going around to give everyone a pat on the back for our one big little step. It's been almost a year now and I must say, I've gained a much larger outlook on how things are, they're that way for a reason and we shouldn't just take everything for granted because things will be way different if it weren't for them. Every building that I step into now isn't just a shelter from the sun or a rest provider, every building has purpose. It's almost like they're alive and trying to live their best as buildings. One down and more to go!

To Run Through The Hurdles

To run through the hurdles will be the most painful way forward and will leave you last in place. But while others will look back to see obstacles non resolved, you'll see a new road of everything you've conquered.

One down, many more to go. With the final model submission and RWP oral presentation over, I am down to a few more submissions, namely 4 x A1 presentation boards in softcopy and hardcopy, RWP final report, General Education argumentative, HTA journals, and MAT sketches. All of which are down for this Friday. But my computer has been lagging today and keeps shutting down my photoshop, and can't even open my word document, so I'm left lying here to type this before I start on something. Needless to say, I need a short break before going full steam ahead once more. I've noticed that there's been someone who's been reading my blog these past few days and I can't really put a finger down on who. Nobody knows about this blog except one person, and that one person has been dead busy past couple of days so I don't see why she would be here. So yes, mystery reader is on the loose. Speaking of which, the only person who knows about this blog has her phone spoiled a couple of days back cutting off all contact between us. She said she'd talk through facebook (can you do that if you're not facebook friends with the person?) but after a while of thinking it through, she does have a phone to use, just that it doesn't have whatsapp, which is the main mode of communication between us. If she wanted to let me know something, she could just let a mutual friend know to pass on the message, and besides, we're both on instant messaging now but she's not saying a word, so I assume its not the telephone's problem. Surprisingly enough, after I told this to a friend, the friend replied with "i don't think she'll tell you when her phone is fixed." I was going to rebut with a quick 'no way' but I thought the better of it and kept quiet. 'no way' is just what I want to believe, its the obvious answer that would make anyone in my position just that much more confident. After thinking about it, the above situation suddenly seems quite likely. I've been left in the dark enough the past few months to know that not everything is quite what it seems. I no longer trust that any flicker in this light would mean its going to brighten the room. You just have to realise that if the light isn't going to live up to its name, your eyes will soon adjust to the dark and it'll be time to take the light down from above you. I recognise that I am a changed person. And its true, pain changes people. Between the bolts of excruciating pain ripping my soul, the lonely nights spent shivering in blankets, and the shadow cast behind these eyes to numb all the fleeting images, I admit that I have changed.

For one, I now have a greater value for time. Where my mind has previously been a jumble of blurry lines I now segregate my time such that none of my time in a day is wasted. Time with my family, time to exercise, time to work, time to rest, time to record my journey so I can look back at it someday. It might be a good cause to distract myself from thinking, but hopefully it will become a good habit. Secondly, my tower blocks of character have collapsed. I can be quiet and sunken one minute, and become high over some strange things the next. Take today for example, one of the lowest times I felt for some time, some time later, I started finding the word 'soup' hilarious, and started repeating 'dinosaur' and 'butterfly' over and over again. Other times when I'm supposed to be happy, I'm quieter and much more toned down. After reflecting for a while, I now recognise that I was content at that point, not unhappy whatsoever, but it seems more like a body mechanism to place a lid so that I won't get too happy, just so I won't crash down again. Its my body's way of saying look, this is what you've done to me, this is the empty shell you left after pouring my  livelihood into a bottle and putting it up on the shelf. Thirdly, I don't trust anyone. I simply cannot open up my heart to anyone knowing that they're just going to shove me aside once something better is on the road. Simply put, when you strip a man of all his love, hope, and desire, you're left with fully functional gears, an efficient, mechanical robot.

Lion Dance Prac

Today, a few friends and I decided to go back to our old school to visit our juniors during their lion dance practice. It's been ages since we last went back anyway and boy have there been a lot of changes. The toilets, which we have been complaining about for ages, have finally been renovated so now they're pretty much like small shopping centre washrooms. But then again, give it a few years and we'll see. The canteen and their stalls have been changed too...now it looks like a primary school canteen. Anyway, even before entering the school, I already had this heavy nagging feeling that the security was gonna cause trouble for me again. And I was right. First she asked me what I was there for, so I answered truthfully, I was visiting my juniors. Then just as I showed my ID and was gonna open my mouth to ask if I had to exchange it for a pass, she snapped like a freaking crocodile with "you can't just show it to me, YOU HAVE TO GIVE IT TO ME!" Now look lady. Firstly, I'm an alumni of the school. I've been passing through these gates for four years of my life, what makes you think I'm gonna bomb the school down now? And now you're probably highly doubting that I was even from the school. So I'm an outsider. Guest, to be exact, that's what they call people entering the school right? Second point. Since I am a 'guest', you shouldn't expect me to know what to do or how to get a pass. You shouldn't snap at me like you're trying to get me out. Cause you know what that is? Rude. And no lady, you're not supposed to be rude to your guests. Asshole.

The whole lion dance visit was not bad I suppose, we played around a lot and relived old memories with the furry lion head and cymbals. Coach was there too, with his wife and both of them still recognised us and knew us by name, pretty impressive. So we hung out with them for a while and took photos, and turns out, they used one of our photos back then for their wedding montage aww how sweet. And they're really the best couple I've ever met. Anything but clingy, both easy to get along with, always either joking around with each other or being annoyed at the other, honestly, if you didn't know them you wouldn't think they're a couple, you'd think they're best friends or something. Now THAT's cute. Junior's performance were pretty low standard considering it's their last week to show. A lot of smoothing out to do even though their idea was pretty good. And doesn't help that they're ALL the same size too, so you can't do much stunts with that.

On the bus ride home, I kind of just sat there and thought to myself that I shouldn't get attached to anyone. It's not just an 'I don't think I can treat you as well as you deserve' thing, but also that I don't want them to be burdened by my sin, my identity. It's not their fault for loving me, but they'd have to carry that sin on their back anyway, I don't think it's right. It's my fault being born this way and I should bear the responsibility myself. My thoughts are turning a little bad though. As we were cruising down the highway, the bus swayed a little too much to the edge near the railing and I could just picture it tipping, tipping and rolling off the edge, the railing being there but there's nothing it can do to support the weight of the bus, and in those instances that I'm in freefall awaiting the impact, all the thoughts would run through my mind, things I wish I could've said, people I'd love to see before I go, everything that I'm gonna miss. And crash.