She Says

Nagging2

She says she needs me
I say “Oh really”

She says “Give me a hug”
I say “Look, a bug!”

She says I don’t care
I say “I’m free as the air”

She says I hurt her
I say “Whatever…”

She says I’m wasting my life
I say “You’re not my wife”

She says I’m her husband
I say “You mean ex-husband”

She says I’m a father
I say “I don’t own my daughter”

She says I’m irresponsible
I say “I’m unstoppable”

She says I should conform
I say “I’d rather drink chloroform”

She says I’m suicidal
I say “Cause we’re a sick couple”

She says I’m a pervert
I say “I’m an extrovert”

She says I’m gay
I say “Hooray!”

She says I’m effeminate
I say “Why do you hate?”

She says she wants a divorce
I say “Go back to the source”

She says “I love you”
I say “Screw you”

 

Closed-Minded Family

closed-minded5

So I decided to test my coming out with one member of my family, the one I am closest to.

I told this person that I was bisexual and that I had found someone online that I was interested in.  I said that I had made plans to meet that person face to face within the next week.

The reaction was worse than I expected.  She had a panic attack, didn’t sleep that night and called in sick the next day.  Finally I was able to reassure her a bit and this is what she said to me:

“You can do what you want with your life, but I don’t want to hear about it.  Anything that has to do with your bisexuality, I don’t want to hear about it because I will never understand it.  You can talk to me about anything you want, but not about that.  It makes me panic and it makes me sick.  I love you and I cannot stand it when you say you want to meet new people, possibly for sex.  Nothing could hurt me more.  I am here for you, and you can do what you want with your friends but don’t tell me about it.  I don’t want to know because it hurts too much.”

I was surprised to hear that this person does not want to know anything about my sexuality and my private life.  I actually thought she was interested in me, but it is clear that she is not interested in this part of me.  And maybe it’s a good thing.  I feel free now.  Free not to come out to my closed-minded family.

It also makes me question the maturity of Christian heterosexuals.  The fluidity of their own sexuality scares the hell out of them.  Just like it used to scare the hell out of me.

If they wish to act as if sexuality does not exist, fine.  I can do that.  So if they ask me what I’m up to, I shall say this:  “I’m meeting new people.  Nothing sexual can happen because sexuality does not exist.  It only exists between a man and woman who are married.  Anything outside of this is sickening, perverted pornography.  Keep your blindfolds, I don’t care, but I’m walking out because I had enough of this shit.”

They won’t know what the hell I’m talking about.  But I will smile.

The Mark of Infamy

infamy1

My father said he would kill me if I ever turned homo.  I was 14 years old.  I wonder how much this has affected my sexual development.

That evening I swallowed half a bottle of aspirin.  I knew they were painkillers.  I was not in pain.  I think I was foreseeing the pain that was to come.

I didn’t know much at age 14.  I knew practically nothing of personal identity and even less about sexual orientation.  I was simply me.  But I learned something important that day:  A homo doesn’t deserve to live.

I didn’t think I was a homo.  I hardly knew what the word meant.  In my teenage mind, the word homo meant “like a girl.”  I was a boy.  So to be “like a girl” was abominable.

I could have been a thief, a liar, or even a murderer, and my father would have forgiven me.  But if I was gay, I deserved to die — to be killed by my own father.

To be bisexual was even worse.  That was the ultimate disgrace, the most perverted thing on the face of this earth.

I was bisexual.

The mark of infamy was on me.  I didn’t deserve to live and I didn’t deserve to be happy.   And if I was to ever succumb to my sexual desires, it would be the end of me.

I don’t think I ever got over it.  Even now, decades later.  My father is dead.  I am free but I am not.  He left something in me.  The mark of infamy.  I wish I could pluck it out.

How can I be bisexual and proud?

I AM proud of myself.  But I am not proud of myself in regards to THEM — my family.  Bisexuality is not something to be proud of according to Christianity.

Sad and Happy

happy and sad

Sad is single
Happy is double

Sad is lonely
Happy accompany

Sad is bad
Happy is glad

Sad is worry
Happy is easy

Sad can’t sleep
Happy rests deep

Sad has pill
Happy has will

Sad is stranded
Happy emancipated

Sad looks down
Happy looks around

Sad is short-sighted
Happy is excited

Sad is flabby
Happy is horny

Sad is gray
Happy is gay

Ready, Willing & Able

Rebel1

I felt safe inside my bubble
Until I turned into a rebel

Now I accept the unacceptable
And don’t respect the respectable

My new flag is colorful
And my briefs are edible

My dreams are probable
And my fantasies plausible

My shoulders are huggable
And my lips are kissable

My thighs are touchable
And my excitement is visible

My ideas are unconventional
And my secrets discoverable

My hunger is insatiable
And my thirst unquenchable

If I find you irresistible
Oh man, you’re in trouble

Man Crush

HD2

This morning I had a strange dream.

I was walking alone in the desert, thinking about my girlfriend, the problems we have and how to solve them.

Then this guy riding a bike came along.  He stopped beside me and removed his helmet.  I recognized him from a previous dream.  His name was Harley Davidson.  He smiled and said:

I know you like me
I know you do
That’s why whenever I come around
She’s all over you

I know you want me
It’s easy to see
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be on with me

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me
Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was raw like me
Don’t you wish your girlfriend was fun like me
Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Fight the feeling
Leave it alone
Because if it ain’t love
It just ain’t enough to leave a happy home

Let’s keep it friendly
You have to play fair
See I don’t care
But I know she ain’t one to share

I know she loves you
I understand
I’d probably be just as crazy about you
If you were my own man

Maybe next lifetime
Possibly
Until then, old friend
Your secret is safe with me

– – – – – – – – – –
Lyrics by The Pussycat Dolls – Don’t Cha ft. Busta Rhymes
Picture from Shania Twain – That Don’t Impress Me Much