“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like the fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…” – Jack Kerouac
I don’t just write for the simple joy of it, though, I do simply enjoy it. My hope is to encourage people to embrace themselves and their sexuality. My hope is that through some of my writing, some of you can find the freedom of acceptance, both of self and from those who you consider yourself intimate with. I will not say the things that sound pretty; rather, I give the advice that most people shy away from giving. I won’t say you are a “bad” person for doing a particular thing, unless that thing harms the unwilling. Specifically, I will never condone the direct victimization (physically or emotionally) of an unwilling individual or an individual whom cannot make an informed choice. That being said, people who subscribe to the misconceptions of society and perceived guarantees of religion and subsequently feel victimized by those who fail to subscribe to the same standards – take that somewhere else. Admittedly, the best decision I ever made to was to have an affair, plain and simple. I loathe judgment; more so, I particularly loath judgment from the pious populace, as they are often the worst of all.
I just want to be clear about something: You will not enjoy my blog if you enjoy the sweet, delicate and soft. You will find me abrasive, offensive, and downright salty. I will not provide you with a soft place to fall, a mothering touch to your bruises. I do not find a benefit in dismissing pain, especially emotional pain. I enjoy prodding at my own bruises, discovering why they hurt, what hurts them worse, and how I got the “bruise” in the first place.
We are taught from a young age to quickly disperse of pain, both emotionally and physically. We are taught to ignore it, accept it, and hope that someone can kiss it all away. I we stood next to the pain for a minute, glanced over and observed it, we would see more about ourselves than we see in bliss. While lost and looking through the fog, we would learn more of our capabilities than with a clear road ahead. We can survive gloom of a temporary depression by living within it, thriving within the sadness, enjoying the darkness for the clarity it brings.
I love the dark. A mental vampire, I desire the inner workings of the mind. I look past the clock face; I am obsessed with the gears that turn and the rust that erodes.
I encourage you to please comment on my posts if you feel so inclined. I understand it takes time, and I certainly understand that high demand for time in this life. I am simply saying to allow yourselves a freedom of expression here, if you so desire it. Thank you so much for reading. I hope that you find a sort of transparency about me. I am quite a dichotomy; I am a self proclaimed narcissistic artist with a great deal of compassion for human kind. What you see here is all me, aside from a few pictures in my articles here and there. I try to keep things as genuine and relevant to “me” as possible.
On caveat: Don’t bring your religion here. I respect religion and what it provides for people. I don’t respect what it has done to humanity. Quite simply, I refuse to worship; make a fundamental part of my life, a collage of myths responsible for the massacre of so many individuals. I cannot press my hands together knowing the blood spilled between them. I cannot bathe in the grace that is judgment, hypocrisy, control and hallucinogenic lunacy. I’d feel as if I’d bathed in the dirty fields of countless holy wars and toweled off with the condemning cardboard signs of Pro-life protestors. I’d feel as if I’d dressed in the robes of predatory priests, and donned footwear appropriate for booting dirt in the faces of homosexuals. I’d wear enough make-up to conceal my vanity, have lunch with the woman whose husband I maintain an affair and curse the waitress for her idiocy at forgetting to split the tab. This is religion to me. Religion is ugly. Religion is deadly.