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.

Utterly Duped

Duped1

I never printed my book.

I completed it over 10 years ago but never printed it.  I don’t even want to reread it.

I cannot believe how much time I wasted writing that book.

Here’s a brief explanation:

After I gave my life to Jesus and became a born-again Christian, I started writing a daily spiritual journal.  I was convinced that God was in my life and that he loved me.  I was extremely motivated.

I wanted to write about how wonderful God was, and how he was blessing me.  But to my surprise, my life as a Christian unfolded as a perpetual series of curses.  It seemed that nothing was going right.  Every time I tried to love someone it would turn against me and every time I tried to do God’s will, it would backfire.

The words written in the bible always turned out to be deceiving and false.  There was either something wrong with my life or there was something wrong with the book.  At first I thought it was me, of course, because I was not allowed to question “God’s Word.”

It was impossible to deny my own life, so the only thing left to question was my religion.

I was keeping a spiritual journal, hoping that one day this journal would be the proof of how God blesses one person’s life.  But my journal turned out to be some kind of horror story about a guy who is in a relationship with a god who does not keep his word!

My diary was supposed to be a proof of God’s love, but after 18 years of reporting all the ups and downs of our relationship, this journal turned out to be documented evidence that the god I was serving was a genuine asshole.

I was not pleased.

Brave Submissive

I intend to report you.  Yes, this is what I’m going to do.  Since this is the only freedom I have left, I am going to take advantage of it fully.  Which reminds me, by the way, that you once said I was a reporter.  So this is what reporters do.  They report.  Then here is my first report.

I’m not angry.  Do I sound angry?  Maybe I am a little.  I don’t even know how I feel.  I’m shaky, I know that.  I feel like something is going to be released, finally.  My insides are trembling.  Nervous, that’s the word.  I feel nervous and I don’t even know why.

There is so much I want to say, I don’t even know where to start and I don’t even know who to address.  Who am I addressing?  You, the one I intend to report or the reader?  Both, because I’m making it public and I know you are reading it too.  You read everything I write.

Two reasons to be anxious:  you and the reader.  But first you.  The fact that you are letting me report you.  How bizarre.  Why does it feel so unsettling?  Because I’ve never spoken of you so overtly before.  You have been my secret for such a long time and I’ve only spoken of you enigmatically.

Now I’m about to speak of you very bluntly for the first time.  No more mystery.  No more poems.  No more parables.  Just the plain truth, as raw as it gets, even if I’m afraid of how it might come out.  I want to do it.

I need to do this.  The time has come.  No matter how hard it is and how much I shake and fear.  I’m tired of keeping it bottled up inside, it’s driving me insane.  Although I know I’m going to sound crazy to some.  I don’t care.  I’m not doing it for anyone else.  I’m doing it for my sake and probably yours too…  beloved goddess.

The Blind Man

Blind

This is what she wrote to me last week:

“After everything we went through, I still love you, and I still have admiration for you in all sorts of ways.  Too bad that you can’t see it and that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you.”

It is true that I can’t see it.  How can a man see what is in the heart of a woman?  Love and admiration cannot be seen.  I am blind when it comes to these kinds of things.  And how can I be sure that what she says is true?  She has lied to me so many times before.

I read her words but I don’t believe them.  If she really has love and admiration for me, it would show, wouldn’t it?  But then, not necessarily.  A woman can love and admire a man without showing it.

Should I be able to see it in her eyes?  I have looked into her eyes a thousand times, and I’m afraid to say that I can’t see anything.  But I have noticed something interesting though.  My feelings are based on my beliefs, not on anything visual.

As long as I believed that she loved and admired me, I felt it.  As soon as I stopped believing it, I stopped feeling it.

Belief is so powerful!

The Door

door

Fortunately, I found this door.  And I opened it.  There was a whole world on the other side of that door!  Who would have thought?

Immediately, I saw him.  Noticing that I had opened the door, he turned around and radiated somehow as he prepared to greet me.  But he didn’t even move, his smile just sucked me right in, and the door shut closed behind me.

So there I was, standing and facing him.  Actually I was sitting, as if dreaming, moving as thoughts move, freely.  He was sitting in the armchair a few feet across from me.

“Who are you?” I asked.  I think this was the first thing I said.

His reply surprised me:  “I am an outsider.”

I froze.  No, I stopped.  Time stopped!

I looked around and realized I was not in my usual element.  I was at home, I recognized the house, the living room, the furniture.  I was definitely in my home, sitting on the sofa but something was strange.

I was in the presence of this “outsider” and suddenly I realized that I was outside of myself.  Outside of myself?  How could I be outside of myself?  And time had stopped!  What the hell was going on?

The medication, I thought.  I took my pills this morning, as usual.  Same dose I have been taking for months.  Maybe it’s the pills?  Maybe I’m hallucinating.

“Daemon, look at me!” the outsider said.

Holy crap, I’m hearing voices too.  What’s happening to me?  Maybe I’m schizophrenic!

“Daemon, relax.  There’s nothing wrong with you.  You are seeing and hearing clearly.”  He said.

I remembered the door.  Where was it?  The door had disappeared.  I had stepped out of reality.  Where was I?  Who was he?  A thousand questions ran through my mind.  I looked at the man and he looked back at me, straight at me, directly into me, he could see through me!

I don’t know how he did it but he touched me deeply.  He put his attention on my core, and I felt peace, warmth and security.  God, it felt good!

Then I understood.  The situation became so evident and simple, yet mindboggling.  I was he and he was me!  The real me, next to me, loving me, eternally.

I had finally found it, the truth!  My treasure, my fortune, my destiny!  I was so happy!

Then he came closer and something very weird happened at that moment.  I’m not sure how to describe it but, the outsider became an insider.  As if his body was fluid or misty, he slithered inside of me, merging his chakras with mine and it was…

Pure, wholesome, energizing ecstasy!

My Secret

secret

I have a secret.  I’m not going to tell you what it is because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably have figured it out already.

I’m in love.  But I’m not going to tell you who the person is because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably know already.

I’m ashamed.  But I’m not going to tell you why because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably have an idea.

I’m not suggesting that you should read my blog.  I don’t want anyone to read my blog because…  it’s private.  But if you have been reading it, no damage was done.

No reader really knows who I am.  I have not given anyone I know access to my blog.  I could be your neighbor.  I could be a family member.  I could be your spouse.

I have a few secrets.  This blog is one of them.  It’s my private world, where I come to play with my thoughts, my emotions and my desires.  I play with people and I play with gods.  I play with mortals and I play with immortals.  I play with you.

I’m in love.  But I’m not going to tell you who he is because…  you don’t know her.  Unless you know yourself.  Then you know already.

I’m ashamed, because of my…  exposure.

I don’t know if I shall ever be willing to give up this fear within.  This fear of what would happen if they’d ever find out my secret.

Are secrets meant to remain hidden?  Apparently not.  Is this fear a friend, or is it an enemy?  Does fear come to haunt me or is it there to protect me?  I can’t tell you because I don’t know.

Meanwhile I will probably keep on writing, to relieve myself of this burden I carry.  A secret burden which is, paradoxically, light.  A load that opens up freedom within me.

Back to Blogging

After many months of non-blogging, I decided to start blogging again today. Is it because I have something useful to tell the world? No.

The few people who will actually take the time to read this will probably get nothing out of it. Then why make it public?

Because I don’t go out much and I have a need to get myself “out there.” I have a need for exposure. Blogging makes me feel that I am an active member of society. Ha! ha!

Why am I laughing?

The phrase “I am an active member of society” makes me laugh. Active. As if.

Does society want to witness my act? I know it wants my submission. It also wants my money. And yes, it probably wants me to act appropriately. But is this what I want to give out to society? No.

What I want to give to society is a piece of my mind. I don’t think society wants to hear it. Thus the reason why blogging exists. Whether or not anyone reads it, the act of blogging is a public act. The perfect medium for an introvert.

I’m not interested in acting. I just want to BE. And it seems that in this world, the only way to be accepted is to act well. How about being real?

If being true has become offensive, then today I declare myself an offensive person. Does that make me a terrorist? Probably.

They can come and kill me if they want. I don’t care. I care not to suffer but I don’t mind dying. I think I’ve seen pretty much all that this world has to offer anyway. So let us all gladly surrender and move on to something better.

A blank page offers the opportunity to start fresh. There are no limits to how many posts I can publish in one day (is there?). So let’s end this one right here and start again from scratch. Writing is unlimited. Today I shall blog.