Transcend Dualism

• Fri, 17:05: I have secret undreamt dreams.

I want to start a movement. A revolution. This is my time to change the world. I don’t want to sit and complain anymore. We need to start demanding an interest in our cause. I need to start making a difference. I am tired of never speaking up - swallowing my pride is starting to choke me. Why are others allowed to hate me, prosecute and deny me - yet I have to feel grateful for not fearing for my life like those in the countless countries who could be executed and refused burial. How come I’m not allowed to love? What is perverse about my love? I’m not seeking to hurt anybody or control them. I don’t desire attention. I just want to feel free to be me, you to be you - us to be we.

I am well aware that I talk about myself a lot. All about my feelings, and in the same sentence I include you, which you may or may not appreciate. It’s necessary for me to believe that I’m not the only one out here that feels this way. I don’t wish to be alone and obsolete. Being part of my community is important both to my spiritual and physical health. Being accepted is a strong support system to my life. It’s one of the foundations of my life. Despite trying to say that I’m aloof to others opinions, I am in reality coldly turned away from my very being. So in effect, I feel it’s very powerful to put down in ink and paper, that This is how I feel, and though I might feel differently in even a couple of hours, this proof of my evolving changing self exists. And maybe somebody else will have once felt the same way, and be able to reach out for me, and we’ll have a cosmic embrace of souls.

I love my city, my country and my world. But forgive me for a second while I scream. Give me a moment to rage and cry. To let out my soul and give freedom to my fears. Because they are refusing to be contained. Give me freedom to express - my… life.

While our people are being called names, while we are being snubbed, ignored and quietly wished away, we are dying one by one. Our deaths are being mobbed over, screamed and chanted about while we - - - watch. Like the movies that ‘just aren’t real’ our lives and pride are being stripped away by they masses. It’s ‘gay’ to be gay. Painful and never ending. My moments of happiness are rooted in misery and doubt. I don’t want my soil anything other than loving and nutritious. There has to be something I can do? I can listen to people scream, I can monitor the flowing blood. Can I stop it? Can we? Do we have the courage, the strength. . . the right to demand our lives to be free and full?

I’ll be the first to admit that my self esteem is lacking. I can sit here and notice my crappy handwriting, my thighs, my arms, fingers and body posture. I know I rub my eyes too much and they become smeared and tired looking. My hair doesn’t stay in that controlled inoffensive style it was in this morning. These are things that bug me, and I hate to pass them off as unimportant. I’m not hurting anybody and shouldn’t I care more about That than the way I look? I don’t want to hurt anybody so I can’t help thinking about all the people in this world who violently oppose my life. Am I hurting them? What do they suffer, and what is important to them and how does that apply to me? Everybody is important and have a right to be held accountable for what they believe. I don’t know if anybody who acts extremely can be ignorant. Surely you know that if you hit somebody, that the pain, fear and anger that results is in direct compliance with your assault. Yet the proof exists that some don’t understand why they feel the right to violence, and experience life changes after having been taught a different outlook on life. And surely there are people who can be hit, and cruelly subjugated without experiencing any direct fear or hurt, or at least being able to separate themselves sufficiently enough to keep from recreating a pattern of dominance and submission.

By refusing to back down, a new conversation arises. I refuse to scream to demand cooperation. Yet how can I make my voice heard in a horde of crying souls? Do I have a voice? Where do I make my stand?

Just got done reading an article about a private religious school who has decided to start playing the national anthem before games for the first time in over one hundred years I think it said. In the comments were several posts either angry about people who aren't ‘patriotic’ and who don't love their country, and ‘if you don't like it then Mexico needs people’. Among that were others who felt it was pointless to even discuss or make a ‘fuss’ about.

For one thing, when people respond with 'love the USA or leave it' I can't help but think about how that reflects on us. If I am angry with my parents or my partner I don't all of a sudden stop loving them and just leave. No, I stay and work it out, things get better. We compromise and discuss the situation and make changes. Just because we love each other doesn't mean we can't make mistakes and hurt one another, but it's precisely for our love that we can make a life. The same applies for our country. I have the right to feel hurt and betrayed by my government because I can't marry the person I love, and I have the right to demand the same treatment as heterosexuals. Why are we constantly being criticized for arguing with 'the government'? Why can't protesting, discussing and actually caring about our country growing and changing with the world be culturally acceptable? If I have to pay higher taxes so that a fellow human being can get the medical treatment they need to survive, then so be it, because then I would know that I would be considered just as valuable as they if I ever needed assistance. If I was unpatriotic, I wouldn't give a damn. I would have given up a long time ago.

Just because I think war is wrong, and believe it's wrong to honor it does not mean that I hate soldiers or my country. It means, that just like in the home, problems are not solved by violence.