The Naked Now

So, I got the title for this post from an episode of 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' which I started watching last night after I came home from my sister's house a bit drunk. I just thought it was appropriate for what I wanted to talk about. 

First of all, God. How weird is it for me to be on this site after nearly two whole years of leaving it in the dust. In a way, I'm happy to have returned to 'blogging it out' as Jenna Hamilton of MTV's "Awkward." would say. And well, I'm here to say that not much has changed. Or maybe I'm not seeing the forest for the trees. But...then again, a lot has changed. Confusing I know. 

It turned out that a few days after I wrote my last post, Travis texted me and said that he really couldn't give the time to pursue a relationship, and this was after I elected not to have sex with him, so something told me that he was really only in it for the sex. Even if that hadn't been the case...I'm sure I would've found some reason to make things not work. You see...since writing that last post, I really realized that I have some terrible intimacy issues. I really am like Meredith Grey circa Season 3. Afraid of any kind of commitment, real or otherwise. 

 I do that sometimes. People will want to meet up with me, and my mind fills with how much effort it would be and how I don't know what it will be like, or if I'll have a good time, so I stick to staying at home. That's what I do a lot of the time, especially during the semesters when I go to school. I stick to staying in my apartment, at my computer, doing homework or being on tumblr, and that's all. Oh, well, I guess that's where all of my time goes now. Tumblr-- which would explain why I haven't been on this website. Even though I don't use tumblr to blog. I actually use Tumblr to roleplay. Which like, okay, if you don't know what that is (and it's not the bedroom kind) then go ahead and look it up on wikipedia or something. For roleplaying there's a 'by platform' section that includes tumblr or blogging sites and it'll explain it.

And anyway, I bring this up because because I'm just discovering a lot of things about myself recently that I didn't know before. I'm discovering some things that I'm into (sexually) and personally that I didn't really think about before. I'm discovering...parts of myself and..well I think that's worthwhile. All of this discovering. How else do we get anywhere in life if we don't know more about ourselves? So yeah. I met Mark 2.0 (who has the same name as the guy I was in love with and who was my high school sweetheart, but who is a different guy named Mark. So here we'll call him Mick, just so we don't get confused, 'kay?) online, and we talked and things were fine. I actually met him the summer I was dismissed from the U of K like...three years ago. Anyway. He moved close to my area for a summer internship and so we had the opportunity to date. So we did go on two dates. The first one went well. I was a little awkward because I don't think I'm all that interesting, but we found things to talk about, and I tried my hardest not to clam up. I just pretended like he was a good friend and we'd known each other a long time. That seems to be a good tactic for me. 

The second time we met up was a disaster. I was silent. We watched a few episodes of Teen Wolf and then he said he needed to get some things done and that he'd call me. I had clammed up. So after that we didn't talk for about two weeks. I knew I had messed up and yet I couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. I...I didn't find him too terribly attractive and that's important to me. I think I need to find someone attractive if I'm going to date them, and possibly get physical with them. Still...it didn't mean I was going to completely write him off. I began to draft an email wherein...I detailed my personal revelation that I have intimacy issues. That I subconsciously pick guys I know are going to have very slim chance at giving me any genuine care, love, attention and affection, and that's who I go after. That's who I'm attracted to. As I wrote down each of my previous romantic experiences in that email to prove the point I was making, I realized just how deep and varied the experiences go. They all had one thing in common. In retrospect I should've seen each and every time that these were not guys that I could have any really viable emotional connection with. They were emotionally unavailable, it was clear and obvious then and now, and it was becoming clear to me with that email I was writing to Mick that that was kind of alright with me back then. 

Here is where Meredith Grey and I differ. Her issues had a cause. Her issues had some on-screen source that was visible within her story: her relationship with the mother that never wanted her, abandoned her at every turn, and was emotionally unavailable to her. Me? I have no clue what could've caused my issues. I have... a strained and rocky relationship with my father, and we've always had trouble connecting. But he was never unavailable, per se. He was never unloving. Nothing like Meredith's mother was for her. 

It irks me. Meredith worked out the source of her issues and was able to move on from them, and work on them. I don't want therapy. I don't...I wouldn't even begin to know how therapy could help. What's so traumatic about my life? What do I have to complain or talk about? Sure I have my issues and feelings, but nothing I think I'd need professional help for. Maybe I'm wrong about that. But...I'm not really in a financial position to afford therapy either. So, that leaves me to deal with and work through my issues all on my own. 

Online sources have sort of dried up my dating pool thus far, and I've established that I never go anywhere. Yet I know I can't expect my life to change if I don't change. Which is why...I've decided to try to do what I can to change my situation. Change aspects of my life. I'm always and forever in a perpetual cycle of wanting to change, trying to achieve that change, and not finding any change-- as evidenced by this blog and some previous posts in it. I'm 24 years old. I think it's time. I'll never stop trying to go after the things I want, and I'll never stop trying to figure myself out, or to achieve the change I want to see in my life. Real human connection. I want more for myself, better for myself. I know I need to get serious about my life. 

I don't have that book deal I mentioned I wanted in that last post I made. But I'm editing my book for the third time through and then I'm going to self publish. I haven't lost all the weight in the world but I'm sitting in a comfortable range for my height, and tonight I exercised for an hour before coming online to find my blog and revisit my past. Yesterday I worked out for forty minutes. I just need to know that I'm doing things in life to be authentic to myself. To be...who I truly am. And for that true self to be happy. I'm spiritual. I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before - though I think I have - and so tomorrow I plan to go to a gay friendly church in town in an effort to meet new people, expand my social circle, and maybe find a little peace. I haven't been to an organized church in quite some time. But I just know that I need something to be different for me. 

I am the only one who can make these changes for myself and in my life. So, I can write about it all day long, and I can talk about it to my friends, and I can be aware of my issues, but everything I want to change will take actual work. Wish me luck, internet. I am going to need it. I am going to...start being there for myself. I have to be a man of my word. Or else, how can I expect anyone else to take me seriously if I don't take myself seriously? If I don't honor myself, and do what's best for myself, first? 

Anyway. That's why I used the photo I did for this post. Notice how that's a guy in the picture? Notice what he's wearing. I mean, he's being bold, and putting himself out there in the naked now. I think that's brave. He's being true to parts of himself. And anyway. I'm trying to be that, too. 

With love,

J.

There's A Possibility...

  I've met someone. He isn't my boyfriend, but I've met a guy through an online dating site - the least (self)sanctioned of my options - but I was putting myself out there because these past few months I've really been thinking about having a guy in my life. 

I, like many relationship-newbie guys (and gals) I'm sure, have always imagined what it would be like to have someone to cuddle with and to hold...someone to talk about our days with and to share our favorite things with. I have always wondered what it would be like to have kiss chapped lips and just smile because I know I have someone that cares, in not just a friend way.

This guy, Travis as he will be called here, and I have been on three (make that four after tonight) dates. Things are going well, I'd say. When we first met I was oddly not uncomfortable and we both found things to say. An hour passed before I'd realized it and the lunch was over. We both made sure to say, "We should do this again." "Yeah, definitely." 

We've watched a movie at his place and mine, we've been to two restaurants. 

But here's the thing..

When he texts me I don't immediately smile. I hardly smile when I read his texts. We haven't delved too deep into things, into each other, or at least I haven't felt that way. When I hear his name, it is a noun to behold and it is attached to the string of times we've met. Travis is a really nice guy. He's sweet and I find him cute (adorable even). 

A lot of the times though, he doesn't make me genuinely laugh - I mean until tonight. Tonight was the first night where I genuinely laughed at a good portion of the things he's said. He isn't shy and so I know that isn't the problem you know? He is very sociable and outgoing; I've seen it. He's an actor, just like I was, in high school. We share some tastes and we are very agreeable. We've fooled around a bit, but nothing serious (my happy hooker days are over so I won't be having sex again until I'm the proverbial 'Sadie, Sadie, Married Lady) and I've been comfortable both times. I've enjoyed myself both times.

He apologizes a lot. Like tonight for instance when we had a silence, he said, "Sorry I'm not more interesting." 

And honestly sometimes it gets on my nerves. I don't like people apologizing a lot. Before you jump down my throat, I know, I know, no one is perfect. Not even I am. I realize this. I'm not expecting him to be perfect, which is why I've continued to see him.

But there's no spark. There's no 'zsa zsa zsu' as Carrie Bradshaw would say. Maybe that could grow, I'm not sure. But four dates, four long periods of spending time together, shouldn't there be some inkling of chemistry by then? I know of guys (Derrick, actually, with Alex) who have had hours long conversations, right from the off. Who spent the entire night on the phone talking to each other until the morning light came and they had to get off the phone because school was in an hour. Who spent so much time talking together in the car that the battery died, and the car had to be jumped. 

My mother had that kind of connection with Della. They were infinitely comfortable around one another. They felt electricity between them. I myself have experienced butterflies. When I kissed Mark for the first time I felt those butterflies. I felt as though our souls were kissing. Maybe that was all an illusion, but what wasn't an illusion was our ability to have fun together. Was our ability to hold a conversation. 

Tonight, I will admit, that there was something different after we had...messed around...like I said, I laughed genuinely and I had a good time. But this was the first time that I had laughed genuinely. And even then, when I was lying there with him, I didn't think about how nice it was to be lying in his warm arms. I thought about how nice it was to be in a man's warm arms. 

I went back and looked at my posts, all of them, from 2009 to 2010. Remember Dirk? I think I used the exact same language to describe him and my experience with him. That he was a great guy BUT there was no spark. No 'zsa zsa zsu'. I don't want to feel like I'm sabotaging myself and so I've decided on a course of action.

I am going to meet up with him again and have a conversation in a public place. I'm going to let him know that until I figure out my feelings for him, I need us not to mess around. This will save me confusion and him hurt (depending on how far his feelings extend...how deep they go). I think this is the responsible thing to do. And after two more dates, if I'm not convinced, I'm going to ask to just be friends. It isn't an exact deadline and I'm going to make sure that I give him a chance -- that I continue to give him a chance.

Oh and I say the whole 'how deep they go' thing above about Travis' feelings because he seems awfully interested in messing around. I mean not to the point of distraction but, tonight as we were getting into it he said, 'man I want you so bad.' I tell you what, if I find out that he's the screw-em-and-leave-em type I...well I may be relieved. I may be relieved that I didn't let it get that far and that I stuck to my guns on my own comfort level and most importantly, that I communicated with him the way that I would want to be communicated with.

I can't tell you how amazing I feel about my life right now. (*knock wood*) I feel so different than I have ever felt before. I feel so motivated. So ready. So here. I proved myself this summer semester at The U of K. I proved my work ethic to myself, my drive, my desire to succeed, and the results came to me in proportion to all of that. I'm not done yet. I want to have a book deal before the year is out, or at least have an agent that is in talks with a few publishing houses. I want to live by my pen, continue to pursue my life's passions, to live honestly, mindfully, and lovingly. 

Remember how I made all those connections to myself and Meredith Grey from Grey's Anatomy back in the day (the post 'Anatomy of Me')? Well, I'm renting season 7 from my local Hastings, and although I know that eventually there's a major tragedy at the end of this most current season, right now in this season, Grey is married and she's happy, and she's a rockstar at being a surgeon. That's where I feel I am at.

I feel like a Rock Star.

I'm doing me.

I'm keeping all of you in my thoughts, with love and light, and hoping you'll do the same for me.

-J-

*Note: in the future, I may sign off differently. I'm trying out something new when it comes to my name.

Ask and you Shall receive...

I can haz this car:

And I can haz this computer:

And I can haz this apartment (or a town house would do):

And I can haz trips to Hawaii, Florida and Provincetown:

And I can haz lots of new fabulous clothes:

And I can still haz a bunch of this after all is said and done:

And earn even more of that off my book series because I'm a great writer and will have an amazing career:

 (like Nicholas Sparks but with diversity)

Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, please?


Kthx.

What's in...

 What is in time? What's in a year? 

My last post was about the desperation and the anxiety...the fear...I had once felt. An alarmist because I thought the gay community was coming under new and undue persecution. But I no longer feel that way. I have since learned that there have always been such attacks, such measures taken to ensure we, as a community, are thought of as subhuman or inherently less than. We have always had to fight and we've always had to endure. I know that now.


So much was going through my mind at the time and I did feel like I was going a little crazy. Maybe I was. But since taking time from KU, I've learned a few things and I've come to new perspectives. My initial goal was to raise money to go back to KU. When I did not know - I'm still not entirely certain. But by December I should have about $1800 in the bank to use at my disposal, maybe more if I can get a job that I'm angling for. By December is when I'll feel ready to come back, but the question remains for me: will I?


I want to, don't get me wrong, I do. I love KU. I love everything about Lawrence. This year, however, has given me some time to think about how the world would view me. How some in my social circle would view me. How some people's parents might view me. How can I be judged because I struggled a little more with school than others? 


There's a beautiful quote from Twilight: Eclipse during the graduation scene and it's Jessica speaking and she says, 

"When we were five, they asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. Our answers were things like astronaut, president, or in my case… princess. When we were ten, they asked again and we answered – rock star, cowboy, or in my case, gold medalist. But now that we’ve grown up, they want a serious answer. Well, how ’bout this: who the hell knows?!

"This isn’t the time to make hard and fast decisions, its the time to make mistakes. Take the wrong train and get stuck somewhere. Fall in love – a lot. Major in philosophy ’cause there’s no way to make a career out of that. Change your mind. Then change it again, because nothing is permanent. So make as many mistakes as you can. That way, someday, when they ask again what we want to be… we won’t have to guess. We’ll know.”

How's that for truth? Imagine this: This year where I haven't been in school (except of course online), and where I've had to raise my own money or forge my own way...be lost for a little while...to fail a little bit...I wouldn't trade it for the life of anyone else. I wouldn't trade it back so that I may be perceived as not being a slacker, or serious. I wouldn't trade it back for the expectations of the world around me. Because when I finally do finish school and when I look back later in life, I can say "Yeah, I know I am where I'm supposed to be." Because I struggled to get there. Because I let a little sweat drip from my brow. Because I made the mistakes I made and learned the lessons I learned.

I won't be afraid to take the opportunities that come my way, and deny the ones that aren't for me. I won't be putting on a show and I won't be pretending to be something I'm not for somebody else. I don't think I did that, but maybe just a little. I was going to live with Tess this August, should I have been able to stay in school, but her father had a rule that I had to be going to KU in order for this to happen. When I found out I couldn't possibly stay in Lawrence, this ended that plan. It saddens me because she was one of my best friends, the only person I could rely on for mature, sane, good clean fun. She gave me so much and I relied on her heavily...and now I'm afraid we've drifted apart. We're in separate places, doing different things, living different lives for the time being. She'll be graduating within the year. I'll just be starting my real education at KU. [More on this after the next paragraph.]

I'm worried for our friendship by that. Logic tells me we shouldn't have to live the same lives to be the same kind of friends we were. Reality tells me I might be wrong. I haven't seen or spoken to Tess in months. I have no idea what's going on in her life. Nor she with mine.

Which leads me back to KU. Here's the thing. I've written a book and I'm going to start on the sequel really soon. I've had it looked at by two people thus far and they're saying they love it. I've also gotten some great constructive criticism on it. I want to get it published. I submitted query letters to four agents and none have requested to see more of my work. My next step is to send it out to publishers but...I'm also considering self-publishing. Invariably this leads me back to December. If I have $1800 in my bank at my disposal, I wonder if I should take a risk and use it to put myself on a book tour after self-publishing my book. And THEN go back to school. This truly is the time for something like that. The time to make mistakes, the time to chase dreams (although I don't see myself ever stopping chasing my dreams) and go for the gold.

In an episode of Sex and the City, Carrie Bradshaw said, "I wanted to be a writer, so I made myself a writer. I want a pair of shoes, I find a way to buy them." That kind of grit is exactly what I'm talking about. I have it inside me; I just have to use it. In a writer's digest book they say, "One thing to know: Don't quit your day job." So yes, I can write and go to school at the same time. The question is all about the timing, the choices. Go to school for a semester and THEN go on a book tour, or go on a book tour and THEN go to school?

I guess this is what they mean when they say life throws you curve balls. I just wish I had a sign. A shoulder to lean on and a friend to give me the kind of advice I need. I know I'll be fine no matter what I choose, and if one decision doesn't work out I can just make another one to change it, but I can know that in my head and still feel that fear in my heart.

For now, I will continue to pursue passion and happiness and life with all my vigor.

And to you: Thank you for reading this.

That's all.

Sincerely,

J.D.

A Note of Aggravation

 I have a bone to pick, that I was trying to avoid picking. I don't like airing dirty laundry on the internet and let me be clear that this is not for that purpose. This is to express something I need to get off my chest. Something that has been plaguing me for days, maybe even a week or two now.

I, being a concerned member of the GLBT community in L-town, messaged the sponsor of the University Gay/Straight Alliance about arranging a voting initiative and having a forum to discuss the recent slew of suicides in the community. As a student with legitimate concerns, I voiced my opinions and waited for a response.

Four days later I had to message Tasha A. (whose name I have changed to protect her privacy) to even get a response from her. All the message responding to me contained were a couple of lines, basically saying she was busy and would talk with the president of the group as soon as possible (that week, she said.)

But hearing nothing further from her, I have gathered that I am not important. My voice isn't important. My opinions and thoughts are not valued.

It may seem extreme to draw that conclusion from such a simple exchange, yet that is how she made me feel. Without a voice, without a sphere of influence, without power. I thought we were supposed to stick together, I thought we were supposed to feel welcome, that we matter.

I don't feel any of that at the moment. And it is because of her blatant indolence. Maybe she was feeling a level of torpor from her rigorous schedule - I understand that I am not the only busy one. But when I go to a University Official and voice an opinion and a suggestion and a possible course of action, I expect a different response than utter uncaring.

So Tasha, if you are reading this, I hope that this was a one-time thing. I hope that you meet others with concerns and you champion them. Because I looked up to you and I looked to you for guidance. It's okay, my constitution is stronger than previously thought, and I can stand on my own in the face of this shattering of my faith in you - but I am disappointed. I expected more from you.

And maybe I expected too much.

But I don't think I was asking too much.

That's all.

Signed,

A Fabulous Gay Man,

Queen Trixie J.D. the First.



(Photo From:  http://www.cpoy.org/past/57/cat_10/10-01/cat10_01-01.html)

Going...Crazy?

I'm going crazy or something. I don't know what it is. I feel restless and like something is bubbling over. Something...

I feel as though I am on the cusp of something big and ominous. Maybe I am having some sort of emotional inner turmoil related to some issues in the past, like the three bedroom with Carissa and Erica.  But if that is all that's bothering me, why do I feel like at any moment I'm going to have to take up arms and fight for my life?

If you've been keeping up with this blog you'll know that I've had the feelings of being an alarmist for quite some time now. It's died down, ebbed and flowed out of my life like a soft tide, but every so often it comes back again. As if I should be on alert or something.

Everywhere I look there are headlines about another gay suicide or LGBT harrasment. I see emails and news stories about the right-wing conservative groups "National Orginization for Marriage," and the "Family Research Council," and I see them spew their hate or anti-LGBT propaganda. It makes me sick. They can hate us in the streets, they can hate us in their churches, they can hate us on television and they get away with it.

How do I protect myself from this hate? I know that I must love as they hate, as strongly and in fact more strongly than they ever could, because that's something in my power. But what else? I can vote. I can picket. I can get involved.

Getting involved also scares me. I don't know why. I know that the haters are out there, even in so liberal a town as L, and I can't help but feel like the on-going mass of chaos surrounding issues like "Don't ask, Don't Tell," and the continued bullying and suicides of LGBT teens everywhere are attracting attention and violence like a lightning rod.

The giants on both sides are facing off. Godzilla and Mothra are battling - without a second thought to Tokyo. I feel as if I am in Tokyo and there is no place to hide; no where is safe.

It is not because of my sexuality that I feel this way or any other kind of excuse that the 'Family Research Council' would love to tout in their speeches...it is because of those like them. Those who would rather see me dead than homosexual. Those who would - and one day might - use their very hands to stuff me into an oven because I am gay.

When a gay person feels that they have no other options or that their lives will never be joyful because of the fear and harrasment that permeate their every thought and waking moment then something isn't right. We already know something isn't right. These suicides are a call from above for action and solution. No one deserves to feel like they are somehow wrong or inferior.

Yet with each conservative speech and each religious leader's damning remarks, that is how each and every gay person is made to feel. Like second class citizens, like dirt, the scum of the world.

And what are they damning homosexuals for? Love.

We as gay people only want the freedom to love those who we have found a bond with, without fear of harm, harrasment, death, hatred, censure or reprisal. We want to enter into a union that all heterosexuals can enter into on a whim. A heterosexual can go to vegas with a stranger and get plastered before getting hitched. And yet, tax paying, law abiding citizens who are homosexual and already have committed and loving relationships, can NOT.

There are lots of things that I would like to see happen. DADT repealed, A crack down on hate crimes, equal marriage rights for homosexual citizens, and for it to not feel like Nazi Germany everytime I turn on the tv to watch CNN or FOX. For it not to feel like Nazi Germany everytime something like Proposition 8 passes, or when I read headlines on the internet about some new radical idea to 'cure gays.'

WAKE UP AMERICA.

Or you may wake up to find that one day, your liberties are at risk too.

Thank God for your rights and recognition under the law - thank God that you will never have to fight as we have to fight, just for an inch of liberty in a country with a very harmful brand of hate, which threatens to culminate and erupt at any moment.

Wake up.


(Photo from: http://technabob.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/fire1.jpg)

Some Kind of Meaning

I don't really have a point or a message for this post. I just sort of felt like writing I think.

I was getting off of the bus from campus to my apartment complex and this butterfly followed me in through the gates and landed on my hand as I was walking to my building.

Now I have a thing about butterflies. I love them and they're sort of my signature thing. I pick a lot of myspace layouts (haha, laugh at that, I know) because they feature beautiful butterflies, and I believe in a symbolistic nature behind them - once I even picked a birthday card for my sister over another option because it had butterflies on it. I liked the cards the same, but the deciding factor was the butterfly. I just think they are a magical creature.

My 'coming-of-age' experience is one that I prefer to liken with that of a butterfly growing from the cocoon. I don't know why but I've always had this reverence for them and their beauty. Anyway, back to today's story. I let it sit for a moment and as I was approaching my building I shook it off. I didn't really mean to do it that hard and don't worry nothing happened to the butterfly itself, it just flew away. But I sort of wish I hadn't done that. I know I wouldn't have carried it on my hand all the way into my apartment but still...I can't help but be a little regretful.

This is the second time in the last few months that a butterfly has landed on me. Nothing of great significance seems to happen afterwards and maybe it really means nothing; a realist might certainly agree with that last statement. But I'm a believer in the mystical. There are a lot of things that the human mind can't explain or random occurences that can't be called 'average' or 'normal'. Besides, what fun would life be without a little intrigue and mystery? You can't have it all figured out or what's the point?

On the bus ride home I was thinking about society and how we're all programmed to behave a certain way and think a certain way - and if you don't believe that, then you've already succumbed to the limits that society has imposed on you and your life. That may be fine for some people, but I'd like to think that life from an individual viewpoint must be figured out. You must decide for yourself what you accept as truth and what you don't, especially about the world you live in. But it is a process to do so and whatever the end result, is how you make it from one day to the next, and on until the end of your life.

This line of thinking happens to me often when I come fresh out of a 'Sociology of the Family' class session. So much of what we do and how we are today as a generation of the world are results of how people used to think and how we've had to decide as a people what was acceptable and what isn't.  This is an ever-changing process. New children are born, and the children of previous generations are now parents. Parents who decide what they teach their children and what morals, values and skills they instill in them as well. It is then up to the children to go out into the institutions of socialization and share what their parents have taught them. They find a group of children and they attach themselves to one another based on the similar ideas or maybe even the completely different ideas that they are exposed to. This new generation of children grow up and go out into the world and rock, shape and challenge the mold set by their predecessors.

I am a self-described optimist. I'd like to believe that one day, we'll see the end of world hunger, the start of world peace, the curing of Cancer and AIDS, the decline and extinction of things like rape and murder. I know these are lofty ideas - and they seem that way because we live in a world rife with all of this chaos - but one thing I can still hold onto is that it may not be plausible, but it is entirely possible. That one standing fact is all I need. I can get from one day to the next with that knowledge.

Every person wants to believe their life will mean something. As Bobby Singer says in the television show 'Supernatural': "Most people go their entire lives without moving so much as the dirt it takes to bury them."  That really strikes a chord with me. I want my life to mean something. I want someone in the future...maybe a politician, or an environmentalist, or maybe the president, to look at my life and be inspired in theirs to do more, to be more. Now even if that doesn't happen, I still know that I've done something that can have an impact on those around me. I've chosen my optimism, and my principles and my ideals and I try to live for them. If someone can turn their day around because of something I've said, or if they can pass on a good deed because I did one for them, then I'm happy with that. I've made some small difference for someone, somewhere.

That's all I really want. That's all I can really hope for.

All we can really do is love one another.

Signed,

A Fabulous Gay Man,

Queen Trixie J.D. the First

(Photo from: http://wvs.topleftpixel.com/photos/2007/08/butterfly_yellow-flowers_01.jpg)