Math

I hate math.

Problem:
Girl Drama
- the girlfriend part
* the moving away in one week part
+ the flirting constantly but not wanting anything out of this part
______________________________________________

= Complicated life. Girls suck.

Answer
+ all kinds of RL drama
+ amazing family drama
+ Finals and papers and tests, etc etc
_____________________________

= I HATE THIS SCHOOL... and my life.

Answer
* being SSA but trying to date
__________________________

= HELL

Answer
/ (divided by) my love of God and Christ
_____________________________

= Somehow I guess I'll be okay


That's all.

fear

I'm teaching in Elder's Quorum tomorrow... I'm absolutely frightened out of my mind. Guys are so incredibly intimidating to me. I passed on the calling to be the Elder's Quorum chorister for that very reason... now I'm going to teach them all gospel?

I just have to remember that after my testimony the outpouring of love was huge. Dz told me yesterday that it was the most memorable testimony and people are still talking about it and grateful for it.

I just hope I'm not awkward, or embarrassing. The focus is on Christ, not me... I want people to be like, "Who is this kid? Where did he get that testimony?" From trials baby. Trials that bring us closer to God. Hey, that's the topic of my lesson...

...I'm still scared out of my fricking mind.

Funk...

I haven't had any drugs for almost a week... That has made life really shitty. I'm doing good, I really am. Phenomenal, even. But shitty.

When your attention span is 3 seconds, enduring an hour and a half of a subject that you're not even remotely interested in is more torturous than having your eyeball scraped with a straight pin. (ow...) So I didn't go to class on friday and didn't give a damn about my papers and didn't do any homework... just went out with a girl. (Two actually... one for lunch and one that night).

Oh, and I should prolly set the record straight here. Apparently people think I have a steady girlfriend. That's kind of a lie. There is/was a girl I found myself completely falling for... and wanted to date. But she's taken. I debated making a move, but wasn't sure how. This whole being in love with a girl thing is still really weird to me. So basically I got really shy and tripped on my words and felt awkward around her and her damn boyfriend continually made me hate him and feel uncomfortable around her, until I just stopped being her friend. I completely cut her out of my life. 1000% I'm such an asshole... I just can't be near her... My other friend who is great friends with her made clear what was up, so she didn't freak out that she'd done something to upset me. But now I don't know how to even just be friends with her. Agh. All I can do is get on my knees and pray for her and her boyfriend every night before I go to bed.

But I'm dating. I went out three times last weekend. And had 4 lunch dates during the week. There is a girl that I have my eye set on right now and am actively pursuing. I took her out last weekend to Thanksgiving Point and we ate in a hella bougie restaurant where I had pecan-crusted swordfish and dropped ridiculous amounts of money...because I can...and I felt like it. Then we went to the barn nearby and saw a huge display of all kinds of gingerbread houses. It was pretty cool and there were some that took up entire tables. Then we walked through the gardens. We went with my good friend (whom we will call Lisa) and her bf, and it was pretty fun. I dunno though. I'm into her, and want to date her, but she's kinda shy and I don't know how I feel about that. We are going out again tomorrow night. We'll see if that goes any better and helps me settle on an opinion.

I'm going out friday again with another girl. There are seriously too many of them. So many to date, and so few I actually want to. But people don't say no to me (usually). Have you seen me? I mean, damn. lol I dunno, this girl's pretty cool, though. Maybe I could like her. My good friend says she can so see me with this girl than the one I'm pursuing at present.

So yeah. I ain't given a damn about school for a bit now, and even better, I don't even know what to do or say anymore as far as blogging goes...

I read my scriptures for like an hour yesterday and it felt really good to spend time in the word of God. But then I read the blogs. So many have been defensive. So many have been outraged. So many have felt attacked.

And so what am I? The resident insensitive asshole? When did I get here? I'm trying to be spiritual... and that doesn't coincide with choices I see others making... but how do I say that without being branded? I think by far the best response was by Remus. But then what does that say about me? Have I become an unaccepting bigot because I have found a place to ground myself and build spiritually? I still love you all the same... I just hurt for the choices you make... or desire/think about making that I know only frustrate happiness. I KNOW THAT. Been there, and done that. And I'm not proud of it. And I want to help other people from being where I have been. How does that work without getting crucified by your fellow brethren who are still struggling and still questioning? I have no problem with questioning. Or thinking. I do them too. But I do have a problem becoming casual in my beliefs about Jesus Christ, losing my focus on what I REALLY want, and how much my commitment to the faith I've been with all my life has wavered.

I was reading in James last night. Chapter one. The verse about prayer that inspired Joseph. But there's so much more there! First off he says count it as joy when you are tempted. We should revel in our struggles and trials and enjoy how identifying the way we do, or being "gay" --whatever the hell the word people use anymore is-- and that trials should help teach us patience. Then verse 5 we all know. If you aren't sure about your trial and it's purpose --if you lack wisdom-- get on your knees and pray about it! Ask God! But you can't just ask. This is key guys, K E Y. Something has to be understood here. In the next verse it says "nothing wavering." Nothing is a pretty inclusive word. You can't waver. You can't hesitate. You can't vacillate. Do you understand what that means? Well verse 8 is another testament to the importance of those two words: "A double minded man is unstable in all his ways" (James 1.8) Does this resonate with anyone? When you are unsure of yourself and your sexuality and your faith... well it just explodes until you aren't sure about ANYTHING. Doubt can destroy your testimony!

I'm not trying to overshadow or question or minimize the experience of questioning and struggling, because reconciliation does take time. But just realize that while it's happening, life will be hell (as it was for me). Also realize that as good as being open-minded and accepting moral grays and ambiguities is... you still have to put your foundation somewhere. (parable of sand vs. stone anyone?) Back to verse 6: "For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed" (James 1.6). The sea is constantly changing and shifting... doing that gets us nowhere!

Why do people not see what these verses are screaming? I almost want to take my bible and just physically beat everyone with it... that's how impassioned I am about this! But then I get called heartless, a bigot, and unaccepting.

So what can I do? How do I say it? These scriptures are teaching us that being a member of Christ's church --and being CONVERTED-- requires a complete, whole, unwavering commitment. This is ALL or NOTHING people! There IS no room for rationalization, justification, hoping against hope to get what you want. The gospel is one of sacrifice, people. The gospel requires you to get out of the damn boat (see previous post) and WALK. Not doubt. Remember that's what Peter did? He sunk.

[Expletive]...This is SO HARD FOR ME. But I know it's RIGHT! And that's why it's worth it to me! W O R T H I T!!! I'm going to fight for what I believe in, and I'm going to keep walking the open path. I have the courage. I have the faith. I have the strength.

The ridiculous part is SO DO ALL OF YOU!!! Are you not returned missionaries? (Or strongly wanting to go?) Are you not members of the Mormon faith? Well, where the hell is the evidence? Where is your conviction, your surety, your knowledge? That burning?!! If you're anything like me, when I "came out," I LOST IT. Well, start fighting to get it back! Because you can! You just have to shift your focus, take a new direction, and continue to strive with faith and sacrifice!

My commitment to God is that IMPORTANT!!! And I want yours to be also...but it seems when I open my mouth and try and scream (or write) these things I am blasted left and right for my hatred and lack of understanding.

Am I doing this in the wrong spirit? The wrong attitude? Am I being too forceful? Then why do I feel the spirit when I think and say these things? What's so wrong with me and my devotion that I lose all of you? I have no [curse word] idea what to do or how to proceed...

But I'm sticking to my testimony, first and foremost. Because I recognize that this is a COMMITMENT. And one that I can't go back on, or rethink, or doubt about. All or nothing.

There is no lukewarm. Just like there is no "try."

W A R

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

~William Yeats, The Second Coming

I have much to say, but don't really know how to vocalize the pit and ache in my knotted stomach. I'm doing so good. My commitment to God is stronger than it has been in so long. That's not the problem. It's the polarizing and dividing among the ranks of the Moho world.

Once again lines are being drawn. People are reaching for weapons. Except this time I'm not crying in the middle for peace. I've picked a side. I don't regret it. I don't think it's a mistake. But does it have to be like this? O, dear God!!! Why is this happening?

I've already mentioned these qualms in previous posts. This gospel is a gospel of work. Of sacrifice. Of faith. Many Mohos say they want families. I KNOW I DO. But then I feel like all they do is sit around and have pity parties with each other about how hard this is and how bad it sucks. Yes, this is difficult! Yes, it can be painful! But it doesn't have to cripple your spirituality!!! God doesn't hand out spouses to heterosexual people, much less to people who aren't overtly attracted to them. But if I stick to my guns - I WANT A FAMILY - then I can frame myself with the mindset that God will provide the way. I will have the faith that he will guide me to success. That's difficult for some people to wrap their heads around. But seriously. If you want a family, then you NEED to be actively working toward that. You need to be out there, meeting people, dating girls, and strengthening yourself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually for the rough road ahead. Just look at the example of the Older MoHos. Their blogs are rife with struggle, pain, turmoil, and growth. NO ONE EVER SAID GETTING WHAT YOU WANT MOST WOULD BE EASY. I'm not saying that either.

I 1000% recognize and understand who and how I am. I am attracted to men. I desire intense physical intimacy with them. But I have CHOSEN to adopt the same mindset many Mormon men face with the addiction of pornography. I can WANT to look at porn, and CHOOSE not to. So I stand. I can WANT to be with a man -and recognizing that- move to what REALLY matters to me -that's my eternal progression and having a family. I can CHOOSE to pursue heterosexual relationships while not ignoring my homosexual tendencies.

People ask me how this is possible, and I've had my own qualms too with regard to the future. How would such a relationship work? What about the past? The secrets? A friend of mine almost lost his girlfriend when it came out that he had had problems with pornography. I sat there and balked. If Mormon women won't stay with someone who has looked at porn, where in God's name does that leave me with the kind and amount of egregious errors I've made? Dwelling on that would suffocate me. I would drown. I would die. I would beginning looking for a gun again. YOU CAN'T DO THAT.

If you insist on focusing on the "ifs" the "hows" and the logistics of the future you fail--utterly fail--to understand your today. It's all about letting go of the rope you would use to hang yourself. Just let go. Screw it. I don't care. I'll deal with that when it's in my face and there's no more getting around it. Until then? I'm going to actively date and have FUN getting to know girls. That's all there is to it. I'm just going to jump in with both feet. Peter didn't walk on water by putting one foot in a little bit to test the water, sit there and think about it, mull over the consequences, the fears, etc etc. If you want to do something to CHANGE who you are, and to STRENGTHEN your testimony, GET OUT OF THE DAMN BOAT.

People are also becoming offended because Therapevo Ydata and I have begun spiritually putting our feet down. We are destroying doubt with the word. "For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharped than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit..." (Heb 4.12). The word of God and our testimonies are coming to bear against people. The problem is not specific actions people are doing, or specific instances of sin. It's the overall decaying of TRUTH. People are eschewing "right" and "wrong" for gray and ambiguity. While that's great, you still have to come to a decision eventually. You have to decide WHAT you are going to believe in. That took me a long time to figure out. But no matter what I did, what I hope for, what I tried, I always ended up back in the same place. The gospel of Jesus Christ. People continue to question, to doubt, to rationalize, and to justify, and they want to have it both ways. My dad told me a very long time ago, when we spent our first time alone and had our first real conversation in maybe my whole life about who I am, that that wasn't possible. I didn't believe him then. I vowed to be the first. I will bridge the gap I told myself. But you can't. It's just not possible. The prophets say one thing, and those living active gay lifestyles say another. And we are stuck in the middle bombarded with hate, prejudice, and misunderstanding. God loves us. He understands us. People are holding out for a revolution in the church, for doctrinal changes. As much as I wish to stand up with you and hold a sign of hope, it's NOT going to happen. Are you reading your bible? This isn't a matter of prejudice with blacks and the priesthood where the brethren have to come out and say, 'oh we made a mistake.' It's scripture recorded in the Bible. The Church's stance can continue to soften as it has with things like "God loveth his Children," but it will not change. This is problematic to people who feel ZERO attraction to women. I am not God, or a prophet, and I do not have an answer for you. But I will love you, and stand with you, and hold you in pain and suffering as you grow to be more our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Now to my second issue. I am deeply, deeply, bothered that this seems to be turning us against ourselves. I'm not okay with that. That's where the sick and twisted knot of stomach is emanating from. Mohos talk of themselves as "part of the family" and yet now our family seems to be falling apart because some of us wish to eschew evil in all forms --including casual ones.

My only plea would be to say, please don't let this to amount to war. More than I ever have before, I am 1000% against war. It's horrific. I've been studying WWI and poets like Isaac Rosenburg, Rupert Brooke, Siegfried Sassoon, and Wilfred Owen. It's awful. Nietzsche is not far off in his claim that "God is dead." We have killed him! We have taken technology, learned, improved, and then KILLED with it. We have become our own Gods. I'm very much not okay with that. When England was set for war, the "boys" were sent out with pomp and circumstance and they were celebrated and glorified. Then the realities of war became all too starkly clear.

"Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud..."

~Wilfred Owen, Dulce Et Decorum Est

War is disgusting. There is NOTHING to celebrate. England stood at the beginning of WWI as the imperial superpower. The one to be reckoned with. Then London got the hell bombed out of it. Well I look at the now. At the here. At 2007. I see the USA getting pissed at China for creating a missile capable of destroying a satellite from the ground and not telling them about it. I see the UN making a resolution to have space be neutral and peaceful to avoid another arms race, and the USA being the ONLY country on the entire damn planet voting against such peaceful resolutions. I have a PROBLEM with that. When I look at Britain going into WWI, all I see is the United States of America in 5 years. We are a generation unfamiliar with war. But can't you see it's coming? Time is winding down and we are going to be called upon to rise and fight for our country. I'm not okay with that.

Just as I am NOT okay with the impending war I seem brewing in MoHodom. WHAT THE HELL EVER HAPPENED TO PEACE? Doesn't anybody try and live by Jesus' teachings anymore? God, I'm scared...

For everyone...

"God rocks even more than my Mom does" ~From my Journal

I bore my testimony in church today. I was shaking the entire time and I bawled. People were really moved by my sincerity. Tons of people thanked me afterwards and gave me hugs.

I was really, really nervous and for good reason. I started out saying that and then added, "I'm nervous because it's been almost two years since I've been at a pulpit. That's because I haven't really had anything to say. But I do now..."

I talked about the blessing my uncle gave which I realized mid-week last week set off this entire spiral back into faith and God and the gospel. It really was him. He came down for Conference and then came to visit me at work and he asked if he could give me a blessing, and then when he put his hands on my head he blessed me to know. To find the answers I've been searching for. I don't remember one single other thing he said, though the blessing was at least like 2 or 3 minutes.

Anyway, today was really good for that reason. And then I heard this song today and loved it:

Have you been here before?
Do you know the road I'm walking?
Have you been out here
When that cold north wind blows?
Can you promise me I'm gonna get to where I'm going?
I'll trust you now like I've trusted You before

But if I lose my way will You come find me?
If I forget who I am will You remind me?
It's a long, long road
And I'm not gonna make it on my own

Every time I try to make it through without You
If I lose my way, I stumble and I fall
Will You be my strength through the valley and the shadow?
Will You be there to answer when I call?

But if I lose my way will You come find me?
If I forget who I am will You remind me?
It's a long, long road
And I'm not gonna make it on my own

I've known dark nights
But there were stars
I've seen stormy days
But the sun was never far away
I've known loneliness and pain
But I've felt the peace of heaven
And the love of Your embrace

And if I lose my way
You will come find me
If I forget who I am
You will remind me
It's a long, long road
And I don't have to make it on my own.
And if we lose our way
He will come find us
If we forget who we are
He will remind us
It's a long, long road
And we don't have to make it on our own

But if I lose my way will You come find me?
If I forget who I am will You remind me?
It's a long, long road
And I'm not gonna make it on my own

~"If I lose my way" by Jericho Road.

I really love God and I love my church and I love who I am.

But more than anything, I think I love actually being happy. That's still really new for me, but so far, I love it. A whole whole lot.

QOTD

K, seriously? I laughed for five minutes.
I almost died because I couldn't breathe.


"If homosexuality is a disease, I'm totally calling in gay to work tomorrow."

-icefirephantom (my fave person on the internet right now)

I suffer you

In the dictionary the word suffer has a number of different meanings, including: feeling pain or distress; to undergo or endure; to tolerate, bear, or allow. Another meaning is as a plea, like when you suffer someone to do something. Almost everyone associates dealing with being attracted to men and being mormon as something inextricably linked to suffering. Pain, hurt, struggle, growth. Suffering.

Today I learned a new way to use the word suffer, rendered all the more striking when juxtaposed with the original meanings presented:

"Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind: for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin" (1 Peter 4.1)

Fascinating. He that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin. I'm not a math person by any means, I'm a writer. But math can be used here (surprisingly) to gain additional insight into the use of the word suffering in this scripture.

has suffered in the flesh
has ceased from sin

Has appears in both and is construable as "like terms"; therefore they can be replaced with an equal sign. With a little regrouping, we attain: suffered in the flesh = ceased from sin. The equation can be simplified even further to say:

SUFFER = CEASE SIN

The double entendre here is riveting and aporetic. Are you a sufferer?

I have a new favorite scripture.

New Testamentimony

Gasp of all gasping, my New Testament class didn't make me want to stab my eyeballs with a sharp pencil for being so boring today. There really is a first time for everything. It was actually very interesting, but that's cuz we were talking about what I already blogged about. So for those who stomached the first dose and still want more, here comes more Romans, and lots of scrumptious questions:

"Know ye not that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness?" (Romans 6.16, emphasis added)

That word right there...yield. It's important. Verses 12-14 address not letting lust overpower your mortal body and using your members for the right reasons. Paul is talking about the hard stuff here. The stuff your kids are gonna want/need to know about, and you're going to have to tell them. Do you have the spiritual guts to be so blunt?

To review verse 16, whenever you YIELD you become servant to that side. Where else do we see yield in the scriptures? Mosiah.

"For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father" (Mosiah 3.19, emphasis added)

Again the yieldage. What means it? We have to yield to get God in our lives, we have to choose that path. That last half says become like a kid, and lists attributes. Start from humility and move forward. Are these arbitrary attributes slapped together? If you think so, time to reread my last post. There's a formula here; a list (Romans 5.3-5). And when we yield, what does that mean?

It means you STOP FIGHTING. You surrender. You give yourself to God. And what does that do? How about "builds humility" for $1 million. Where's the most well-known humility scripture? Ether.

"And if men come unto to me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them" (Ether 12.27)

Ah yes, the ol' weakness to be humbled scripture. Well what does the Lord require? 1. Humility. 2. FAITH. Oh look, that thing I've been talking about in depth. Amazing.

But seriously. Yielding. Surrendering. It takes effort. IF YOU THINK YOU CAN DO IT ALONE THEN YOUR TRANSITION ISN'T DONE YET. THE NATURAL MAN DOESN'T LIKE THE IDEA OF SURRENDERING. But it needs to be done. You have to YIELD and give yourself to God in order for him to work in you.

And may I now venture into a realm where I would (were my blog public) very openly and quickly receive criticism. Could not one's level of attraction be considered a "weakness" spoken of in verse 27? Does God not then promise to make such a "weakness" strong? I realize this will be seen by some as borderline blasphemous. My only retort: Do you have the spiritual guts to have ENOUGH FAITH to surrender yourself to God and his mighty plan with enough humility to have him make your weaknesses strengths? I don't yet, but this isn't all or nothing.

It's life. And life is a process. Not a verdict.

Some Milk

I was reading my scriptures today at work and came across this:

"...but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." (Rom 5.3-5)

I think the formula there is pretty amazing. From trial to hope and reveling in the love of God. That's pretty much truth right there.

Another one:

"For when ye were the servants of sin, ye were free from righteousness." (Rom 5.20)

This is what I was talking about yesterday with being scared to have faith, and being scared to stop doubting. When you continue to dwell in ambiguity, and moral grays, and question what you know to be true, then you are free. Free from the responsibility and commitment the gospel brings with it. But then two verses later we are reminded "that the wages of sin is death" (Rom 5.23) You can be free from righteousness or you can be freed from sin by the truth. There is one path, one redeemer, and one gospel. Do you have the guts to follow Him? The FAITH?

One last scripture that stood out:

"For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it" (Rom 8.24-25)

This goes back to what I said yesterday too. People are struggling and moving in a direction they have rationalized as "right" because they can't see how things could possibly work. How can I be with a woman? How can I be at one with my feelings and the church? They don't see it, and then they give up. But that which is seen is NOT hope, that's just it. Hope IS that which is not seen. That's why it's hope. That's why it's hard.

The weighty, important things that really matter? They take work, dedication, suffering, sacrifice, hope, and FAITH. They aren't supposed to be easy. Then we wouldn't grow and how would that help us be more like God?

K, I'm done preaching now. Ps, happy birthday to my mom. I heart my mom. We talked for the first time today since our fight in... June.

F A I T H

How long have I
Been in this storm?
So overwhelmed by
The ocean's shapeless form
Water's getting harder to tread
With these waves crashing over my head.

If I could just see you
Everything would be alright
If I'd see you
This darkness would turn to light.

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
I know everything will be alright
I know everything is alright.

I know you didn't
Bring me out here to drown
So why am I
Ten feet under and upside down?
Barely surviving has
Become my purpose.
Cuz I'm so used to living
Underneath the surface.

If I could just see you
Everything would be alright
If I'd see you
This darkness would turn to light.

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
I know everything will be alright

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
I know everything will be alright

I know everything is alright.

Everything's alright...yeah...everything's alright.

~Lifehouse, Storm

Changes Good

I know, it's been a while. I know, I never said everything I wanted to say. I know, I know, I know. But there are other things I know. And I think I need to write about them so you know too.

General Conference was pretty much amazing. I went to 4 of the 5 sessions in SLC, and watched the other one at my house. This was the first time since coming home from my mission that I didn't completely hate myself and the church after it was done. It was...kinda hopeful actually.

And then it started. My paradigm shift. I'm still confused, and still wary, but I'm going for it. Gimple has been a strong influence and I'm so so grateful for his example.

I just really felt after conference and having discussions with close straight friends that I needed to move in a new direction. And that direction isn't as "new" as it seems. It's back toward the church. Not that I've been moving away from it, but I haven't really been doing much to be a Mormon.

I'm okay with my shift. And my friends remarked immediately that I seemed different. God forbid... but I seemed... happier. And I like that. I feel like I've always known this was the path. Drex has been a close unwavering example of that for a long time but I was too much of a dumbass to see that. I know what's right. The scary thing is that I may always have known what's right. But acknowledging that you know is difficult. It brings with it explicit responsibility. And so I balk, and say, but it's almost easier to doubt and say you don't know... because then you don't have to do anything. It's all about faith. And having the COURAGE TO HAVE THAT FAITH.

Gimple is prolly gonna post on this too, (sorry if I steal any thunder) but the MoHo community is becoming way too casual. Way too casual. I felt really uncomfortable at the last "get-together" Salad and Drex hosted. It was just way too cuddly for me. I'm not really looking for that anymore. So I've pulled away from most of those people, and I'm okay with that. I really like where Gimple is going and I want to follow him. He is amazing, and an example, and an inspiration. Many mohos out there are struggling right now. Really struggling. And that's because they are afraid. Afraid to have the faith that God is still with them and will help them. What are they doing? Just hanging out with other Mohos. Cuddling. Hooking up. That doesn't spell "gospel" to me. This may sound slightly hypocritical because I used to be there, being that casual, but I've learned...and I'm growing again...away from those situations.

I'm starting to unbury my testimony. The gospel is right, and I KNOW THAT. AND SO DO YOU. Now... I just wish that knowing hadn't come at such high a price. It hurts inside, you know? But it's good. It's all good hurt.

I started praying again. I hadn't prayed in months. I'm reading my scriptures. I'm actually feeling the spirit again. And I'm CHOOSING to believe that not only is God good, but that he will fulfill his promises. He will lead me, he will guide me, and that there IS A WAY to make it.

And that way is through FAITH.

I realized that my mission was so so so amazing because God knew what was coming next. He knew that it was going to destroy me and make me question more than I ever have before, and so he gave me a special mission with tons of success and witnesses of truth. I just wish I had seen that sooner. He did it so that it could be an anchor to me in these hard times. I also figured out why some of my straight friends are in my life... and that's for their testimonies. They are pillars of gospel strength. I need people like that right now.

In a recent convo, my friend said, "Hidden, wow. This... you realize this could be one of the most important decisions you ever make?" I do. That's intimidating. But it's true. This could be one of those crux points that changes everything else I do and am.

I'm still okay with that. And changing. FAITH.

I'm starting to see a girl... and I think I like her. So I'm kind of redefining my sexuality all over again right now. It's been pretty interesting, but I'm in a good place.

And I like that.

Broken

The broken clock is a comfort
It helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time

And I am here still waiting
Though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best
Like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you

The broken locks were a warning
You got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded
I'm an open book instead
And I still see your reflection
Inside of my eyes
That are looking for purpose
They're still looking for life

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
Is the healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you

I'm hanging on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will...be okay

Broken lights on the freeway
Left me here alone
I may have lost my way now
Haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you

I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you

~Lifehouse

I Know The Feeling

I... I'm doing okay. I guess.

Here's my new favorite song...

I know it cuts you inside every time that you try
To take a pathway in life that leaves you so unobliged
Every promise is lies, every smile makes you cry
Leaves you so unalive, so unalive
I wish I could take the fall
Maybe by that I could solve
The problems we're all having
It's been a while since you've felt like you've been home
Your life's just flesh and bone

Your heart is worth more than you know
The one thing that hurts more than your life
Is to wake up one more time alone
It's to wake up one more time alive

So take us in, we'll stop you dead
We'll show you something you won't ever forget
This life's a road, no place is home
My heart's a hole
That needs to constantly be filled with love

This time it's all that I've got
Words hit the page like gunshots
My stomach's left in a knot
My pride is left here to rot
It's been a while since I've felt this restless
By definition it's depressing but I'm alright
It kills to wake up one more time alone
It kills to wake up one more time alive

So take us in, we'll stop you dead
We'll show you something you won't ever forget
This life's a road, no place is home
My heart's a hole
That needs to constantly be filled with love

I know the feeling of being all alone
So let's drink to fact that we're not
I know the feeling of being all alone
So let's drink to fact that we're not

So take us in, we'll stop you dead
We'll show you something you won't ever forget
This life's a road, no place is home
My heart's a hole
That needs to constantly be filled with love


~The Classic Crime

Alone

Drex and Salad are married and busy with each other.

Gimple moved and went on vacation.

Gwen told me she's not coming back. Neither is Stephen.

Julia was keeping me from company, but gave up on work and went back to Cali.

Allie moved far to the east, so I never see her.

Trev and Tiger got married and moved to Virginia.

Everyone left me here to bleed alone.

I have 3 new roommates. They suck. They don't wash their dishes ever, they mooch my stuff, and they have continuous B.O.

No one in my ward gives a damn about me either. As noted, I'm on the fringe with church. Has the Elder's Quorum president come over? My home teacher? Anyone? HELL NO. They don't give a DAMN about people who don't really go to church. Chalk up another reason I hate this damn state. The church is so fake. No one really cares.

Am I worth any tears?

I haven't talked to my mom for almost 2 months now. I miss her... but don't know how to fix what's started anymore...

Why can't I have one person in my life who cares about me like I care about other people? Does anyone even think about me anymore? I just want to be worth it to someone once...

Damn being alone.

Mormons Suck Sometimes

I guess I'm in the mood to blog... *sigh*

I went to Church on Sunday. It was the first time in three weeks. I even went to all three hours, which was a first in months. I was quickly reminded why I go on the fringe only.

I almost walked out of Elder's Quorum but instead just sat there and waited with AGONY for them to be done. The lesson was on Eternal Marriage and its importance. Can't we talk about anything else in this fucking church? PLEASE??

Blah, blah, blah, Marriage takes work, its hard, its important, you need to prepare, etc etc. I've heard all that shit before. Doesn't make it any easier for me. I know what I'm getting into. Except oh wait, I like men and so my job is 1000x harder than everyone else.

My bishop even helped out too. He was sitting right behind me. He saw me focusing intently on my Sudoku puzzle doing my best to ignore everything behind said outwardly while it cut me to the core inwardly. In a brilliant maneuver of tact (as he is renowned for) he raised his hand, and said, "Mr. Person teaching the lesson, can you talk about those for whom marriage may be difficult? Can you speak to those who may no longer have any hope of getting married?"

Bastard. Why didn't he just raise his hand and say, "Can you please speak to Hidden's inability to like women and attempt to make him feel better (even though he'll just end up wanting to stab his eyes out with a fork and throw them at you) knowing that somehow in the next life this will all supposedly just resolve itself?"

I love that when I actually do go to church it just makes me want to go even less. I think I'm starting to hate my church alot... and I already called my Bishop a bastard so it's clear where I stand on that one.

I want my testimony back. I want to believe again. Can I have hope and faith yet? Damn waiting until April. Nothing works in my life the way it should. I think its funny that people adamate that they are not broken... I AM. That's pretty much the only thing I DO know these days. I'm broken and I hate it.

The End

Breakdown...

I'm still reeling from my immense sense of disconnect. My profound sense of unplaceable disconcertion.

I'm not sure I can even tell who I am anymore.

I've become a ghost of a shell...everything else is dead and buried.

I've been doing so well... keeping myself busy.

Class and work and being involved have kept me driven. DRIVEN I tell you, so that I didn't have time to dwell, to think, to try.

To breathe. Or to be.

Now I find myself slave to the space between semesters. I have no routine. No schedule. Nothing to bury myself in to keep from living...

"What hurts more than just dying is living barely alive. After all it's easier than falling short every time." ~The Classic Crime, The Fight

I think I'm breaking down... and I don't know what to do. Other than push it away and keep trying to maintain my broken self.

A close friend I recently came out wrote me a letter about how she hurts for me because I won't face this... she doesn't know anything... I have faced this. Head-on for many months. And then the pain became too great and I started making rash decisions that I regret and I got so confused and messed up and unsure that I almost died. Really died.

So I started running. And I've never looked back. Sometimes you cope by avoiding because you're not able to handle what it is you're running from. And that's okay, right? You can run for a while until you get a better handle on things and then come back for a second try...

Only I don't understand what's happening to me now... during the in-between... running shouldn't hurt... so why do I hurt? And want to cry?

I hate blogging I think. But maybe I hate me and my life more?

That's all.

Song of Myself

A couple of [weeks] and I'm a silhouette,
My halo is broken now
And I'm all that's left.

I hate to disappoint
but it's the way things went,
I was blind to the things I did

And deaf to what was said...
Tie up these loose ends
cuz voices are calling...
...me out.

I've got the solution
You can feed me to something
That is leaving this town.

Whoa! I'm losing hope
There's a hole in my heart
That's been cut out of stone.

Whoa! Cold comes, cold goes
Could you fill this hole?
Cuz I can't do it alone...

A couple of tears
And I'm a broken mess
The sadness has taken me

Too deep in regret
So sing me a song
About something good

My heart's on the threshing floor
And I've done every single thing
I could

I used to believe in some kind of feeling
That could change everything
I thought I knew

But that door is closing
My heart feels like it's frozen
If you hear me

I can't feel you.

Whoa! I'm losing hope
There's a hole in my heart
That's been cut out of stone.

Whoa! Cold comes, cold goes
Could you fill this hole?
Cuz I can't do it alone...

The coldest heart
Can be brought to life
When it's thrown into the fire of goodbyes.

The coldest heart
Can be brought to life
When it's thrown into the fire of goodbyes.

The coldest heart
Can be brought to life
(can be brought to life)
When it's thrown into the fire of goodbyes.

Whoa! I'm losing hope
There's a hole in my heart
That's been cut out of stone.

Whoa! Cold comes, cold goes
Could you fill this hole?
Cuz I can't do it alone...

Whoa! I'm losing hope
There's a hole in my heart
That's been cut out of stone.

Whoa! Cold comes, cold goes
Could you fill this hole?
Cuz I can't do it alone...

I've got the coldest heart...
I've got the coldest heart...
I've got the coldest...

...heart.
~The Classic Crime

Gurgle...

I don't want to write this.

I feel like Atp. I want to blog, I want to... I just don't.

I know exactly what my next ten posts would be and say. It's all planned and drawn up, it just needs typed...

And then I choke. I balk.

I can't do it. I have a PRIVATE blog with only close INVITED readers... and yet I can't do this.

I can't hack blogging.

The risks outweigh the benefits for me, and I'm scared to reveal myself in such a way. It's just too real for me. Too personal.

I'm on disconnect.

I'm plodding along toward April. Is it here yet dammit?

I just want to graduate... that's ALL that matters to me.

I feel sick to my stomach and disjointed today. One of those days where you are so disconnected from yourself that it affects even your 'pretending to be okay' functionality.

I want to cry, but don't remember how and it never helps anyway. I don't want to be alone anymore. I have no direction, no hope. And when you don't have hope, life isn't a very fun experience.

I look at my future. I've been building it for ages. And yet, it scares the shit out of me.

I watched Pilot Candidate all the way through... and realized I'd never seen the final eppys. It was amazing. Zero races toward the future and his dream of becoming a pilot. In the last episode the story really opens up and becomes break-neck, edge-of-your-seat interesting...

...and then it ends. It just stops. There's no more.

I'm left wanting more. And there is none. Is that what's going to happen to my life?

The future is bright... since when did I become scared of the light? Is it because I am made of darkness? What the hell is real anymore? What the hell is right?

I'm just tired of feeling lost... and not knowing... anything.

I don't think I have anything else to say right now.

Regression... [under construction v3.0]

Blah. That's all. Blah. I am failed at being a blogger.

Reasons:
1. I am far too busy with my life to type out what happens.
2. I stopped journaling... I want to start that again before moving on... but I never get to that either.
3. I'm OCD about the entries being poignant, crisp, and amazing (perfect). I need to get over myself before I post more.
4-50. I'm scared. Scared to be real. I'm lost my faith... I've lost my ability to trust other people... I'm just not sure going forward is a good idea. I want to, I just need to get over my fear...

Fear is the opposite of faith. And it can be crippling. So where's my miracle of healing to help me learn how to walk again? Physical therapy doesn't always work. Am I too broken to be fixed?

So I don't know. We'll call this an impasse. A brick wall. Something I'm still trying to decide how to get past, weighing the costs and risks. And I haven't made a decision yet. So you'll just have to wait and see what happens next.

Soul Exposed (Part 1): The Price of Worth

K, let's start from the beginning. Genesis chapter 1:1. Sike. I'm not about to recite the whole bible. So God made Adam and Eve, etc etc etc until my mom had me.

I was the second child. I have an older brother, and when we were kids we'd just fight all the time. My mom describes it thus: "He'd just be playing, minding his own business, and then you'd have to go and mess it up. The terrorizing tornado would come barreling into the room and just... be antagonistic." Yeah, basically I'd just start beating up on my older brother. He'd lay me out flat, and I'd need some time to nurse my wounds, but I'd always come back for more. I think this can be chalked up to a basic need for attention... anyone? anyone? *shakes head* I started young...

Erik Erikson studied human development and divided it into seven stages, each marked by a crisis (which he defined as a turning point, or moment of transition characterized by the ability to move forward or backward in development). The first stage involves the level of trust you have for the world. With needed warmth, cuddling, and attention, a child develops trust. When these conditions are not present, the child becomes suspicious about interacting with others, acquiring a general sense of mistrust toward human relationships. Now, as far as I know, my parents were very loving and caring and gave me the proper attention and warmth as an infant... but this distrust quickly developed in other areas of my life. That's one of the interesting things about Erikson. Once you enter a stage, it never goes away. You deal with it for the rest of your life. So trust continues even when autonomy is introduced, and that continues when initiative comes about, etc etc. Mistrust started early and affected me deeply, as you are about to read...

The first day of kindergarten was such an exuberant day for me, filled with incomprehensible opportunity. Finally I'd get away from the drudgery of my home and do exciting things. I was presented with my teacher, Mrs. J, and 30 new potential friends. So I put myself out there, no inhibition, no judgment, I wanted to be friends with EVERYONE!!

Oh, the cruel, harsh reality of rejection. It breaks and destroys souls. I know it did mine... One of the hardest questions for a parent to endure: "Mom, why doesn't anyone want to play with me? Am I bad? Is something wrong with me?"

I've always always been scrawny, and my attempts at trusting... this need for attention... the drive to feel wanted... left me the perfect target for bullying. I was picked on, made fun of, and even beat up. All the while I did my best... I shared my crayons, helped on the swings, and went out of my way to be the best friend anyone could ever want...

A tiny child with carefree dreams and hopes can only take so much before reaching his breaking point. The bullying became too much, too far... too long. I snapped. I was being chased, called names, and I just stopped. I turned around and laid the nearest kid flat. And then went to the Principal's office.

This was the beginning of my withdrawal from the world. It was cold, harsh, and cruel and not somewhere that fostered the sense of trust Erikson describes. So I would be the same way to the world. My walls began to form, brick by brick. My behavior deteriorated and my parents set up a system with my teacher where everyday when I got home I'd bring either a smiley or frowny face. I had to save the smiles, and when I got ten, I could get a reward. If I got a frown, I was grounded and/or punished. That never stopped me.

I became a tyrant. I became the bully. I became a socially dysfunctional nightmare. I would color on other people's pictures, knock down their block towers, and wreck the games they were playing. I even killed the class goldfish. It the world would not love and want me, I would not love it back. Summer was a lonely time, and there were no neighborhood kids who liked me, so I taught myself how to read instead.

First Grade, Mrs. P. Still no friends. I was so mean to my teacher one day I actually made her cry. I had become a devil... crying for help. But no one heard me screaming. I would throw markers at people and even stab them with pencils. No one wanted to associate with me at all. Except the principal, when I was in his office...

During the summers it was always hardest, because I didn't even have homework to keep me occupied. Luckily, I was blessed with a very active, and vibrant, imagination. I would play outside for hours on end doing make-believe, and having grand adventures. I had a sandbox where I could build entire cities to drive matchbox cars around, have kidnappings, crashes, and all kinds of kid fun. G.I. Joes were by far my favorite toy, and when my younger brother was old enough, we could pass an entire day just playing with them outside, in our basement, or inside the living room couch (which folded out to be a bed).

Second Grade, Mrs. B. Still no friends. The same harassment and hatred flowed from me as I became even less impressed with the world and how much it hated me for reasons beyond my understanding. Stabbing, yelling, pushing, throwing things. One day we were sitting down to read for story-time, and a girl took my seat. I bit her on the arm. Principal's office.

Third Grade, Mrs. W. We moved to a new house. So I got to go to a new school. Another shot at having friends. I could change, take down the walls I was building, and connect. My mom was good friends with the lady across the street, and she had girls my age. So I tried to be friends with them. K.T. was nice enough at home. She'd play in the sandbox and swing and even sometimes play Nintendo. But as soon as we got to school, she became another person entirely. She had her "girls" and to be cool for them, she'd call me "stanko" to my face. Some friend. The walls, the rejection, and the embitterment to this damned world continued. Since no one would play with me on recess, I'd just chase girls and terrorize them by trying to kiss them (so why am I not straight? Dammit!). My teacher tried hard to help me, and encouraged me in my studies... even when I always had the desk in the corner... exiled for my bad behavior. Once, instead of my homework, I wanted to use her computer to play Math Games, and she said no. I got pissed, and the next time I had a turn I erased the system and ripped some of the floppy disks in half. Principal's office.

Fourth Grade, Mrs. L. Probably the teacher I hated the most. My prowess for academics got me out of the classroom when I got accepted into the Challenge (not challenged!) Program for advanced students. I got to go to 6th grade for half a day at the middle school. When we got back, the class would be at recess. I'd walk around the room and steal pencils out of desks. After recess, Mrs. L would read to us. When I wasn't off by myself, I'd "accidentally" drop my pencil, then bend down and tie my neighbor's shoes to their desk. Hilarious. One day I took a bottle of glue and dumped it on the new shoes of the girl next to me. Her foot got stuck! Also hilarious. Another favorite game of mine was pulling people's chairs out when they were about to sit down, so they'd crash to the floor.

I remember one day in particular, I was extremely pissed at my teacher (I'd just gotten in trouble for some antic). In my corner, I was vigorously scribbling on my desktop. Mrs. L called to me, "Hidden, I want to see you up here...NOW!" I stood up angrily, put my hands under my desk, and flung it as hard as I could. It flipped upside down and slid across the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. Can we say Principal's office?

Fifth Grade, Mrs. F. I still didn't really have any friends. One girl kinda reached out to me, but I only saw her on recess. She was a "reject" too, she had a speech impediment. At least I wasn't brutally alone anymore. I still got picked on, and the bullying never ended, even though I'd be as much of a terror as I could. There were just boys bigger and stronger than me, and they made it clear. Even if I hadn't been dysfunctional socially, I don't think I would've gotten anywhere. I knew I was different for hating football and not wanting to play tether ball or basketball. I just didn't like that kind of competition. I already got beat up enough, I didn't need anymore help. One day in particular I remember, a girl named C.M. said something really snide to me. Minutes later, she came over to borrow my scissors. We were making mobiles using hangers and string. I took my hanger and cut her right across her throat. Do I even need to say it?

All this time my parents were devout Mormons, and so every Sunday I went to church like a good little Mormon boy. The church has always been set up as a safe place... a haven for the weary and heavy-laden. This was supposed to be a place of solitude, acceptance, and love. Not even here did I find respite. A boy my age, B.P., from the neighboring town constantly harassed me, calling me "gay" and "queer." He turned all the other boys my age against me. I hated B.P. I could never say anything either, because he had two older brothers in High School, and they would pick on me too. I was scared to death of them... and so I suffered in silence when I was supposed to be growing closer to God. Interestingly enough, B.P. wasn't the first to use the words "gay" and "queer" with me. That was actually the nature of much of the picking on I received throughout childhood. Not to digress from the story, but I'm very very curious to know if this has anything to do with my orientation (subject of Part 2). I mean, if you hear something long enough... if everything thinks it but you... then you start to question... and hell begins. What if they're right? What if I am? Oh God... (I've been interested in doing psychological research in this vein for a while... it happens with parents and their kids... if your dad tells you you're stupid every day, eventually you believe him...). So back to the story: One week, this kid was gone on vacation. A new boy was in our ward that day. He'd just moved in! It was the prefect opportunity. I would win him over before the other kid got back to ruin everything. I immediately introduced myself, pulling down everything I'd built to separate me from the world. A.L. agreed to be my friend. I was elated! Finally the sun was shining a ray through the dark clouds surrounding my stormy life!

Sixth Grade, Team: Mrs. And, Mrs. P, Ms. Ag, and Mr. M. were my teachers. A.L. was on my team at school. I was happy at first. But it turned out he wasn't actually in any of my classes. We were on opposite schedules. I barely saw him at recess. I continued to excel in all my subjects, and get really good grades. But this was Middle School. All four elementary schools combined. Four times as many kids. Four times as much persecution. As the days dragged on, I began to get really, really depressed.

My parents finally figured me out. They had grown tired of the temper tantrums, and struggling to connect with me, so they had thrown me to the shrinks. I got diagnosed with ADHD. I was smart, my grades proved that, but I misbehaved and paying attention was a huge struggle for me. The fact that my mother still says to me sometimes that "for the first eleven years of my life they had no idea how to understand or relate to me" still hurts. Being a kid was so hard for me. Once I got on medication, I calmed down with my behavior, but that didn't help me get any more friends.

As far as sexuality goes, I'm not sure where I was at this point, much of my past is hazy for me. I know that I had at least two girlfriends during the school year, but beyond that... (Again, sexual development will be addressed in part 2). As I was saying, I was completely enveloped in depression. The world just didn't seem like a place where I could fit, where I could find love, where I could be understood. How could everyone hate me? My discouragement and perilous state was elucidated best in a sixth grade journal prompt during Language Arts. The prompt was: "If you could switch places with someone else for a day, who would it be and why?" Other kids wrote about switching with basketball stars, or pop stars, being president...you know kid dreams. My entry was starkly different. I was breaking inside, and tired of being alone. I wrote two pages about how I would never ever switch places with anyone because I didn't want anyone to ever live in my shoes for even five minutes, let alone a whole day. Why? Because I was clearly worthless, no one wanted me, and I didn't want anyone else to suffer the way I did every day. I turned it in just like that, in all it's bloody glory. I had opened my soul once again, and screamed for help. Suicide was heavy on my mind much of the time (And I wasn't even overtly struggling with being gay yet...).

My teacher read it, of course, and saw it for what it was. I was in trouble underneath the happy, go-lucky presentation I wore to class every day. She went to the Assistant Principal who, of course, called my parents. They were pretty jolted by the entry. I had to continue meeting with the Assistant Principal. I was outwardly pissed, but inwardly craving any attention I could get... positive or negative. I just wanted to be loved.

I guess the medicine helped. Or having my parents realize that they needed to do a better job with me... somehow. Ash and I hung out during the summer, and when I got to Seventh Grade, things weren't so bad. I was now in Junior High, and had Mr. A, Mr. B, Mr O, and Mrs. A. English became the love of my life, and Mrs. A. inspired me to write and read, and I thrived in the world that was not my reality. In Challenge, I met a girl named M.H. and we became friends. I behaved myself relatively well, and it showed. My mom came in for the first conference expecting the normal, "Your kid has behavior problems, and needs help staying on task." Instead she got, "Your kid has wonderful potential and is doing an amazing job at school." She seriously almost fainted. I laughed and smiled, for once. Throughout the year, I got pretty close to my Challenge teacher, Ms. Z. To avoid the drama of the cafeteria and social life where none of us really fit; Ash, Mel, and I ate lunch in her office everyday.

Eight Grade, Team Gumby: Mrs. G, Mr. S, Ms. Gill, Mr. K, and Mr. R. Awesomest teachers I've ever had. English remained by far my favorite class, and I just happened to have it with Mel. In Challenge, we got even closer. The rest of the class started a unit called "Mini-Society" where you create a country, government, money, etc. My brother had done that when he was in the Program, so I already knew about it, and I wasn't really interested. Neither was M.H. The internet was coming out at this time, and M.H. and I would mail back forth, writing a story about looking for each other in the forest. We asked Ms. Z if we could do an independent study writing project, and she agreed. We would write and write and write. During classes, out of class, weekends. The project was supposed to last three weeks. Well, we got so into it, we drug it out into a three-month project. Then we still had to rush to get the ending done, before the school year ended. When all was said and done, we had a book printed one-sided on computer paper, and it was 256 pages, 11 chapters. Rock. That summer we wrote a sequel, and got ready for High School.

My mom, as great as she is, and much as I love her now, at the time really perpetuated my despair and self-loathing increased. A journal entry from April 15, 1996 says:

"Okay so my mom went to this meeting at the High School for a Charter School I said I was interested in. My mom was asking questions like 'Duh, yeah, how many high school kids do you know that play with G.I. Joes harh harh?' As if it's my fault I have ADD. Then she went on about me not being self-motivated and sociable and not ready for that type of environment. I mean come on! Does she think I'm stupid or something? She just didn't want to hurt my feelings but I know exactly what she was saying, she thinks I'm a little immature baby. It makes me hurt inside to have her trying to shield the truth by playing dumb with me.

"And to make matters worse, she said that I had just gotten adjusted to my new meds and she didn't want to take me away from my 'new reputation.' New reputation indeed!

"Obviously, she has no idea how much I am made fun of, mocked, picked on, or any of the other things going on at school; if this is a new reputation and life, well then I'm just downright sick and tired of it. She sees me getting the grades, and having good relationships with my teachers so she thinks everything is just fine. Well, for crying out loud, it's not!

"After that I said I wanted to go because I wanted to be with friends. She said back that she thinks wanting to be with my friends is a pretty poor reason to go. If she says that, then she has no idea how much they mean to me or how little real friends I have. She must have no idea that they look out for me, support me, help me, and motivate me. I look up to my friends and respect them for who they are inside, not outside; and for the way their personality really is, not for the way I think it should be or how I want it to be, or how someone thinks they should be in order to do a certain thing. I respect the qualities in them. I have a question I don't understand and I ask my parents and they don't tell me the answer or how to get the answer. I do get that from my friends."

M.H. and I both joined the Marching Band (I played Clarinet since 5th grade) and that served as a type of niche for me where people didn't completely reject me (although there were still plenty in band who hated on me). High School went by soooo fast. M.H. got me interested in acting, and we joined the drama program. I continued to have phenomenal grades and was in all the classes with the uber-smart, uber-popular kids. None of them really wanted to be friends with me. My younger brother, as young as 7th grade, was running with the popular crowd and secretly I was jealous. I never had that kind of acceptance and love (disclaimer: popularity in school does not actually qualify as being loved, but I thought it did then). My Junior and Senior years I was part of the Eastland Performing Arts Program, which was a satellite program hosted by our school for 16 schools in the area. So I had my core classes in the morning, and then in the afternoon I took acting and technical theater classes. They also had musical theater, but I was scared to perpetuate the thoughts many people still entertained that I was gay.

As people came into my life that didn't reject me, they wanted to get close to me; but they found the more they dug, the more they were faced with impassable walls. They couldn't get to know ME. There was a girl A.Z., who was trying to date me, but we struggled constantly to make our relationship work.

April 10th, 2001: "I started thinking about feelings and what A.Z. said to me. She WORDED it different, but in essence she called me a cold-hearted bastard to my face. That hurts. Feelings. 'How can you not feel anything?' She asked. Oh trust me. I DO. I just don't show it. I can't. I DON'T KNOW HOW. I CAN'T! I CAN'T! If I could, I would. She just doesn't understand! All my life I've taken shit from people. ALL MY LIFE! At first I was wrecked, then I started fighting back. As if that could do anything. No. I couldn't cope. I couldn't handle it. I almost fucking killed myself. That sucks. No one should EVER be pushed to that point. It sucks and it's wrong!

"I started putting up walls. It was my only defense. The only solution. I started shutting people out, and keeping myself in. Now those walls are in place. I've spent over 10 years cementing and securing those walls in place to keep out people so they can't fucking hurt me anymore. But maybe I built the walls too high, too thick. Maybe i've cut myself off too much. Cuz I've started keeping out my friends. Best friends. What have I done? I built walls to keep out my enemies. NOT the people I LOVE. It wasn't supposed to be this way. What the hell have I done? Oh my God! I've never known any other way to cope other than separating myself. Staying apart. Ignoring my hurt. The pain. The sorrow.

"I've built walls. These walls are strong. They protect me from my enemies. I hide behind these walls because I know of no other way to endure the pain and suffering. This is my home. My essence. My being. Cold, hard, and unfeeling on the outside, because what's on the inside is too important, sacred, cherished by me, and it's already abused, and it can no longer happen, so I keep it safe behind my walls. Once in a while, when no one is looking, I peek over my walls to see what's going on. Then if it's safe, I let my walls down, and emerge from my artificial shell...like now. But as someone as someone comes along, or anything happens, I retreat and return to my sanctuary, because I know nothing else, I know no other way. I don't mean to separate and isolate myself, but I have no choice. I tried to express myself. let everything run free, and all I got was to be the butt of the joke. The loser. So I made my own world, my own stronghold, where I can no longer be abused. It's a secret and not many have ever set foot inside. A few have, but none have seen it all, and no one ever will. No matter how close we get. Some parts were absued until they died, and now they are buried six feet under. I'm not cold, I'm not heartless. Just wounded. And still healing. But if you'd like, I'll try and start opening my door more often, and allowing you inside to see what's going on in here. It will be very hard for me, and will take some time to act out, but I'll try my damndest."

After A.Z. called me out, I started working at undoing the last 10 years of work to let my friends back in. I'm STILL working on it. It's way harder to destroy than to build. All I ever wanted was to be loved... and the world seemed to not be able to give that to me. My disconnection and confusion on relating were only compounded by my sexual development, the subject of part 2...

The Title of the titling title with(in) the title's title of titling a title... @_@

Might as well start this out cliché-like. "What's in a name?" *gag* Well, someone out there surely doesn't get the name of my blog, so allow me to satiate you with brilliant and pithy elucidative delineation... *gag x2*

Aporia is a term used in critical literary theory, mainly by deconstuctionists. Such as Jacques Derrida. Ever tried to read him? Egads batman... it makes your brain jelly. However, not all literary theory is bunk and should be tossed aside with the morning's garbage.

Aporia is worthy to be entertained, and thus I will. Aporia, according to the Wiki (this isn't a credible source! Why the hell does everyone use it?), is: "A philosophical puzzle or a seemingly insoluble impasse in an inquiry, often arising as a result of equally plausible yet inconsistent premises." Derrida prefers the term "undecideables", while Emmanuel Levinas calls them "non-synthesizeables." Whatever the term, they are all aporetic and so that will be my effective blanket term.

Aporia results when something is simultaneously one thing and its opposite. It makes us skeptical and inspires faith; it is nothing more than an imaginative romp, and it is a serious challenge to our way of thinking about reality.

Aporia refers to that which "can no longer be included within philosophical (binary) oppositions, but which, however, inhabit philosophical opposition, resisting and disorganizing it, constituting a third term, without ever leaving room for a solution" (Derrida, Positions, 1981, p. 43).

These undecidable, non-synthesizables provoke us to question the categories and pigeonholes we use for taming and making sense of experience. Usually, therefore, we ignore them. If we don't, they have the ability to undermine and shake up our systems of thought. In other words, aporia simultaneously reveals and questions the ordering codes of a system; showing how it works, and showing that it doesn't.

Aporia will inject infinity into a closed system and split it wide open. By breaking open our previous ways of thinking, by adding something new and irreducible, such concepts offer true teaching. In Plato's Meno (84), Socrates describes the purgative effect of reducing someone to aporia: it shows someone who merely thought he knew something that he does not in fact know it and instills in him a desire to investigate it.

You see where I'm going with this. You pair two things that are both contradictory and true. The evidence stands both for and against it. Zombies are an easily graspable aporia: they are dead...but they are alive. Unfortunately, society dictates that ambiguity must be resolved. I'd vote maybe that's not entirely the best answer.

By becoming enmeshed in the predicament of either/or morphing into both/and, we blow the system apart; enabling us to move forward with that not yet experienced, not knowing where it will lead.

The point of this whole discourse... Pairing Mormonism with Homosexuality. At first look, they are inherently incompatible. That's how I felt when I first admitted to myself that both were true of me. But how? I was in direct conflict with myself and I was unsure how to proceed. Could they really co-exist? I was determined to find out. Aporetically, it seems they can. The logistic details of this aporia are another matter entirely, and hence, the journey to be undertaken as we explore the far reaches of this struggle. My struggle.

I want to document my experience, my turmoil, and my anguish in trying to figure this out. Done in literature, it just makes your brain hurt sometimes. But when it's your life? Everything hurts; you bleed, and cry, and try, but mostly just want to die sometimes. That's what I want to capture. The reality of the struggle. I feel that the real nature remains unsaid in its truest, most poignant form. I hope to remedy that.

Aporia is a crazy, beautiful thing. And so am I.

~Hidden