Sunday, November 25, 2012

It was a beautiful dream

Hello darkness, my old friend;
I've come to talk with you again.
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its image while I was sleeping.
And the vision that was planted in my brain,
It still my closet.

 Hi everyone;
  Over the weekend, I've had time to consider my closet.   It's a theme I've thought about numerous times, so I hope you don't mind, but it's on my mind a lot.  But, perhaps that's just the thing:  As we think on something we come closer to the solution, and conversely, as we avoid something we hide from the very truth of it.  So, in order to be in control of my very life, I need to be in control of my closet - as it were - and that requires that I,at least, know the truth and can be comfortable with that truth. 
The Media and America
  The concept of a translucent closet is likely not new.  There have been some celebrities who came out only to have the world utter "duh".  And, there have been others who were dragged out kicking and screaming by a media and public intent upon knowing every iota of a celebrity's life - whether that tidbit of information is relevant to the world or not.  And, while some celebrities at least have the finances to leave their situation if need be, there are many who are not so blessed.  I read a story of a teenager who was quite forcibly removed from his closet by the betrayal of his brother, only to then be kicked out of his house at 15 to live on the streets where he was robbed, raped, beaten and starved before finding his way.  He still somehow is gay - even after all that negativity attached to the concept.  He must choose being gay over living at home, huh?
  So, who am I and what do I want from life?  I think I deserve to have a life the way I want, for the most part, don't you?  After all, I am a homeowner, ok - the mortgagor still owns a fair portion, I work more than a 40 hour week, I help my neighbors, I volunteer with community stray animal rescue, I pay my taxes, pay my bills and obligations, don't speed..... much....
But, somehow, I don't count as much to society as the guy who has children - even who has numerous children that he doesn't care for. ?
  America has lost its' mind.  Like a bunch of sheep, it has allowed hypocrites and control freaks to declare, dictate, legislate and politicize my very freedom.  Who are they?  Where are they when my feet are cold, when I ache from loneliness and just want to know that I'm loved?  Why do they get a vote on who shares my bed, my life, when they aren't willing to be in my bed or my life?  This is not the way I wanted this article to go, but dammit I'm angry that groups like NOM and others get to put in their two cents when, quite frankly, they don't care!
  Well, angry is not how I want to live my life.... let me tell you about this dream I had last night:  I lived a great portion of my childhood within biking distance of the beach.  And, during my 14th summer, that is where I spent the majority of my days.  I would ride there in the morning after my chores were done, spend the day with friends or even alone in the sun and the surf, turning brown in the sun, then come home before the parents to finish off any chores before dinner.  It was a good summer, and quite frankly, my last good summer.  So, perhaps that's why I still dream of it at times.   And, that's where I was last night.  No one cared that I was holding hands with another man, that we were in love, that we were "out in the open".  We were just us, among a bunch of other "us"es.  It was a beautiful dream.