Life
Warning: This is filled with really random, angsty/depressing rants. Which will be divided up into different cuts. So yeah.
You've been warned.
I'm gonna start with GSA-related things. I read a fanfic over break that triggered a lot of thoughts. I'm writing this really long paper so I can pass junior year, and I decided to write it on the Gay Rights Movement. I knew it affects me greatly, but thinking it over, I realized something.
I'm lucky. I'm so damn lucky to be here, now, in this time. Only a few decades back, I wouldn't be legally allowed to kiss my girlfriend in public. I wouldn't be allowed to tell her I love her unless we were safely locked away in our own home. I wouldn't legally allowed to be me, unless I was hidden away from the public's view.
And to know that I'm here now, and until recently, never truly appreciated it, is startling and makes me feel a bit guilty. There are couples everywhere who watch us teenagers, so drunk with love, giggling and kissing each other at the mall, sitting on each other's laps and snuggling close in the park, walking hand in hand down the street. Couples who couldn't do the same when they were our age, when they were joyously in love, when they were sweet, affectionate teenagers.
Granted, I have to hide who I am from my parents, but other than that, I walk hand in hand with my girlfriend, unashamed, uncaring of what other people think. I don't get warned by cops, who tell me I'm making people uncomfortable.
I don't have to hide from the world. I don't have to be locked away because of who I love.
And I'm lucky to be able to do that.
But there's still a fight to win, because we aren't there yet. So I thank the people who got us to where we are today, and I promise them that I am here to fight with them, to achieve the right to marriage.
Life. It's a precious thing really, and people don't seem to think about it, at all.
Sometimes, I forget. I forget that with every breath I take, I'm alive, I'm whole. That what I have is precious, priceless, irreplaceable.
But every time I'm reminded, it's a brutal slap in the face. A sort of agony I don't expect, a step backwards, knees knocking, legs failing. Because suddenly I'm tiny and vulnerable and at any second, that next breath won't be there. And I won't know when that is. I just know that it could come any day.
I'm sick of death. I'm sick of having to sit through those moments of agony when the words hit my ears and I cannot cry. Because I have too much of a handle on my emotions when I'm with others. That sting, the sudden emptiness in my chest, the building tightness in my throat, wiped away with a few blinks and a couple of breaths. Then as soon as I sink into the shadows, it's everywhere and it doesn't stop until someone passes by.
I'm sick of this list. Last year was bad enough, writing links and running out of paper, having to go up before the entire class and ask for more. Their faces kinda twisted. It's so hard not to cry. This year it'll be longer, it'll be more links. I don't want pity.
I want life. I want people to see that life is precious, that life is fragile, that life is flighty. Because you could be on the brink of death and suddenly life would catch you and throw you back. Or you could be perfect, healthiest person on earth, and life bolts and suddenly you're left crumpled and empty and gone.
How come so little people see this? I don't mean it to be morbid, but if you waste your time... Where will be we?
My whole life, people always ask me what I want for my birthday, for Christmas. I always have to think and the list is often short. But in reality? All I want is people to live, to breathe, to be alive and embrace that fact.
You've been warned.
I'm gonna start with GSA-related things. I read a fanfic over break that triggered a lot of thoughts. I'm writing this really long paper so I can pass junior year, and I decided to write it on the Gay Rights Movement. I knew it affects me greatly, but thinking it over, I realized something.
I'm lucky. I'm so damn lucky to be here, now, in this time. Only a few decades back, I wouldn't be legally allowed to kiss my girlfriend in public. I wouldn't be allowed to tell her I love her unless we were safely locked away in our own home. I wouldn't legally allowed to be me, unless I was hidden away from the public's view.
And to know that I'm here now, and until recently, never truly appreciated it, is startling and makes me feel a bit guilty. There are couples everywhere who watch us teenagers, so drunk with love, giggling and kissing each other at the mall, sitting on each other's laps and snuggling close in the park, walking hand in hand down the street. Couples who couldn't do the same when they were our age, when they were joyously in love, when they were sweet, affectionate teenagers.
Granted, I have to hide who I am from my parents, but other than that, I walk hand in hand with my girlfriend, unashamed, uncaring of what other people think. I don't get warned by cops, who tell me I'm making people uncomfortable.
I don't have to hide from the world. I don't have to be locked away because of who I love.
And I'm lucky to be able to do that.
But there's still a fight to win, because we aren't there yet. So I thank the people who got us to where we are today, and I promise them that I am here to fight with them, to achieve the right to marriage.
Life. It's a precious thing really, and people don't seem to think about it, at all.
Sometimes, I forget. I forget that with every breath I take, I'm alive, I'm whole. That what I have is precious, priceless, irreplaceable.
But every time I'm reminded, it's a brutal slap in the face. A sort of agony I don't expect, a step backwards, knees knocking, legs failing. Because suddenly I'm tiny and vulnerable and at any second, that next breath won't be there. And I won't know when that is. I just know that it could come any day.
I'm sick of death. I'm sick of having to sit through those moments of agony when the words hit my ears and I cannot cry. Because I have too much of a handle on my emotions when I'm with others. That sting, the sudden emptiness in my chest, the building tightness in my throat, wiped away with a few blinks and a couple of breaths. Then as soon as I sink into the shadows, it's everywhere and it doesn't stop until someone passes by.
I'm sick of this list. Last year was bad enough, writing links and running out of paper, having to go up before the entire class and ask for more. Their faces kinda twisted. It's so hard not to cry. This year it'll be longer, it'll be more links. I don't want pity.
I want life. I want people to see that life is precious, that life is fragile, that life is flighty. Because you could be on the brink of death and suddenly life would catch you and throw you back. Or you could be perfect, healthiest person on earth, and life bolts and suddenly you're left crumpled and empty and gone.
How come so little people see this? I don't mean it to be morbid, but if you waste your time... Where will be we?
My whole life, people always ask me what I want for my birthday, for Christmas. I always have to think and the list is often short. But in reality? All I want is people to live, to breathe, to be alive and embrace that fact.