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anxiety

what an odd note to start this blog off on. but let me explain before delving into this project.

my name is ******** ******. the reason why i have it starred out is because this blog isn’t for me to get recognition or to start a revolution – it’s for me to be healthy, for my thoughts to stop barraging the walls of my head. the superficial characteristics of my identity aren’t important. i am me, i am you, i am we.

in order to better understand my posts and thoughts, here are some basic facts. i am a college student who goes to school in texas. i am a minority – nonwhite, nonChristian, gay. i am lost in all of my labels.

it gives me anxiety to write this post now, knowing it’ll soon be in the clutches of society and the technological mindfuck that is the internet. but it gives me a sense of levitation, as it makes me feel as if i am floating outside of my body, looking down at the processes of my life.

i also can’t be bothered by punctuation and grammar. this is my space, bitch. but if you’re reading this, you’re a good bitch – thank you for reading on and being at least a little interested in what i have to say. i’m not necessarily here to push an agenda – but i do want people to know that there are other people in the world. people who are different from them but are still people who deserve love, respect, and friendship despite how different they may be.

my heart is racing. i think i’m done writing for the night. welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the musings from the underground.

relationships.

relationships are confusing enough as they are. mix in the possibility of it being romantic and of the same sex, you might as well just start crying out of frustration. being in college has made me hyperconscious of the thought of finding the one and how that can happen at any moment. here in my college, the chances for me are little to none because of a) the lack of men i am attracted to, b) the incredibly homophobic culture that is embedded in campus, and c) the fact that i am a gay man of color.

even if i didn’t go to the college i go to, i imagine that finding a boyfriend would be difficult for me just based on the fact that i am a gay man of color and that i am not fit. gay males are incredibly judgmental based on race, weight, skin type, fashion choice, attitude, etc. don’t even get me started on the “masc” bullshit, where every gay guy wants an almost straight man to just hop out of their wet dreams and into their lives. personally, i do like more masculine men, but i’m not attacking the preference – i’m attacking the implications of the preference, especially in the way that gay men use it to put down other gays, making more feminine gays (myself included) an undesirable group, although i’d argue more gays belong in this group than in the masc group.

as someone who isn’t even 21, i can’t go to clubs to find men – i have to resort to apps like tinder, bumble, and even grindr to do so, but people are really choosy and caustic behind a phone screen. the basis of dating/hookup apps is pretty weird – based off a very limited amount of information (usually a couple of random photos and a poorly written bio), you’re expected to hit it off well enough with someone to meet them in person.

these apps, especially hookup apps (but i mean what app isn’t a hookup app), are psychologically devastating. i am coming into knowing who i am and getting to know all of these facets of myself, but being on these apps push me to define myself with flashy tags such as “twink” “jock” “bear” “masc” “fem” etc. as much as i cringe at the saying “i don’t like labels”, i am urged to lean towards it because labels assume that i know myself so well that i can assuredly define who i am when in reality, i don’t know what the fuck i’m ever doing.

my friends (myself included) joke that i am a gay homophobe and honestly, they’re not too far off. don’t get me wrong – i love being gay (being straight is so 500 B.C.) and i love the support and bonds of the LGBTQ+ community, but gay people, specifically gay white cis-males, irritate the fuck out of me. gay white cis-males are so enraptured by their homosexuality and the fact that this makes them a 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝔂 that they forget that they can still be shitty people. this can be seen in the whitewashed preferences in the gay community. gays of color are seen as an exotic treat for white gays to indulge in – but only the best of the best. this encourages gays of color to fight one another, through vicious gossip and acerbic tones, for the white man’s attention in the worst broadway rendition of british imperialism. even if a gay of color manages to snag a white gay, it’s not for long, sis! he’s only interested in fucking you before he goes off and 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 & *•.¸♡ 𝐦ＡⓇᖇι𝑒Ⓢ ♡¸.•* his white lookalike (i don’t understand why white gays do this, but that’s another discussion).

now, i am not saying we should all collectively ban white gay males from our love lives and leave them to die off and to find some other culture to appropriate, but i am saying that we should be cognizant of this gross occurrence in the LGBTQ+ community so that we can actively stop it. look at people on a level deeper than their race and ethnicity; appreciate what their race and ethnicity is, but don’t let it be the defining factor in your attraction. we can all do better than that.

i can obviously on and on and ON about this topic of relationships, but i am going to stop right here. it makes me feel really vulnerable to admit this, but i do want a boyfriend. like i think about it more than i should, but i can’t help thinking if i had another guy on a close level with me who understood and connected with me on a level other then just friendship or even sisterhood. i know that i am a bad bitch and NO bad bitch needs a man, but uh – this bad bitch would like a man.

beauty.

11/21/18. 2:58am.

i lie in my childhood bed, basking in the darkness of my room, a darkness that is disturbed by the radiant moonlight percolating through the openings of my blind. something in me called to mark the beauty of the night – i don’t find beauty in the darkness, but rather in the whispers of moonlight filtering through my room. the world is silent and for a moment, all of my struggles and problems are too – i am left in a transitory state that feels surreal and i am now at most open state. for some reason, this moonlight is captivating my mind – i keep shifting myself so that my face is in direct contact with it, a connection that reminds me of the nights i spent as a kid staying up and admiring the same moonlight.

there’s a reason why i love the nighttime, especially when it’s lit up by the moon or by city lights – a beautiful energy courses through the world, an energy that is untouched by the binds of la vida cotidiana. the moon and the stars know the most about me and i am in tune with the bright allure of them. i hope that years from now, even a couple days from now, i will be able to look back on this post/date and experience a fraction of the feelings i am experiencing now – the simplicity, the relaxing, the introspective, and the love for this moonlight.

as the moonlight bathes my face with charm, ease, and love, my mind lulls to sleep with ariana grande’s soft masterpiece moonlight.

clarity.

previously in this blog, i talked about moments in your life that remind you of who you are and bring you down to reality. now, i want to talk about these moments in the sense that they instead bring you up to reality. these moments of clarification make you feel grateful for realizing what you realized before getting too ahead of yourself.

recently, i had a moment like this with a friend who i consider as one of my best friends. i had put so much into the friendship that i expected so much out of her, fully knowing that she was not as invested as i was. she would say things to me that are inexplicably rude, which i laughed off of in a good-hearted manner, but after a while, cutting jokes simply are insults and laughing along with them is a degradation of your sense of self. she was giving me an endured silent treatment as i had apparently done something she abhorred and i tried to talk to her today, but she turned the other way, prompting me to run after her. while i was running, i had a reality check. who the fuck was i? was this really me, with no shame in the world, RUNNING after people who could give less of a fuck about me? what had i done to myself? how little did i begin to value myself to even be in a situation like this? at that moment, i decided i could not let this go on anymore; i stopped chasing her and left her alone, not talking to her for the rest of the day – i told our mutual best friend/her roommate that i wasn’t really looking to talk to her as a heads up. it may sound like i have something against her, but i truly, sincerely do not. she is still one of my best friends. she didn’t go against me or do anything herself – she was just being herself. i, on the other hand, should’ve known better about myself. i know i am the type of person to go all out for other people, for events, for parties, for work assignments that i am passionate about – to the point that my self-worth diminishes astronomically. i end up fucking things up for myself because i believe in others too much, i love others too much, & i invest in everything except myself.

my mom always used to tell me that i shouldn’t let people jest with me and that i should be offended easily in public but not so with my immediate family; to this, i rolled my eyes and pinned it on my mom’s archaic, conservative views from immigrating to the US. but my mom was right – in allowing people to joke with me and about me, i have made who i am a joke when i know for fucking sure, that the things i’ve been through and the hardships i’ve endured don’t make me a fucking joke. not for a fucking second.

identity & reality.

there are some moments that are so startling that they bring you to a bleak reality. i have moments like these in regards to my identity & my past – these moments have been happening to me quite frequently in the recent past. i see them as kind of “reality shocks” rather than “reality checks” because they do in fact shock my entire core to a point that i am absolutely fried from my inner being.

recently, i have witnessed a brewing conflict that is quickly escalating between 2 groups of people that i am caught in the middle of. it’s honestly freaking me out to type this right now, with bile rising up my throat and my stomach feeling as if it is being flipped around 100 times, but here i am, taking a deep breath and continuing. although i am not directly involved in the conflict (i really have not done anything to incite the conflict or even continue it), my identity as a non-white, gay, feminine male from a painstakingly middle class standing has become more glaring as ever on this campus, especially to me. i feel as if i am becoming the scapegoat for something that is not even my problem, but that i could end up paying for.

when moments like this come, and they usually are moments where i feel as if i have gone too far (in terms of socializing with people and all of that), i think about my home. i think about what would happen if all was exposed to my family. i think about how my mom strongly discouraged me from becoming close friends with anyone and how my dad constantly reminded me that the only people i could trust was my family. i think about what my sister has done to incite a “reality shock” within my parents and how her choices has tainted my collegiate experience, making me realize that the things that i do on campus could, dare i say it, kill my parents if they were to find out.

who i am is a last option, i feel. i feel as if all of the bets are placed on me and if i don’t do what is expected of me, then all has failed. my parents have one last faith in me to not fuck up like my sister. even though my parents tell me to not think that i have to repent for my sister’s sins against our family’s dreams, they certainly feel this – you can change the words that come out of your mouth, but you can rarely redirect the focus of your heart and of your inner voice.

moments like this incite something dark in me. not in the sense that i will be violent, but in the sense that i feel like am drowning. that i have always been drowning, never having the chance to even be afloat. i close myself off when moments like this occur because i can’t breathe in public – i am reminded that what i do is so fucking more than what my other friends do. it’s nothing against them and it’s not that i am saying that people are not in similar situations as myself or in even worse situations – i acknowledge this. but it does not make my experience any better.

i feel as if i am losing. i am losing it all before i even had the chance to win. this hometown beauty queen is stumbling, stumbling, stumbling into a never-ending spiral of despair and nothingness.