Busy Bisexual

So, I told my straight female crush that I liked her and got rejected by her, and later on in that day my other female friend told me she's been in love with me for like three years but I only like her as a friend. And when I tell her that, she still asks me out on a date and to prom - I don't want to reject three times! It was like she was trying to force me into a relationship through guilt. (She is a forceful person anyway). And now I'm waiting like a puppy dog to hear back from this girl I've been messaging online because she knows about my depression and even shared with me her mental problems and I really like talking to her, and she lives in my city of all places.

It's a busy week to be bisexual. Maybe I should focus on my celebrity guy crushes again - less hassle since I don't have to actually talk to them.

Depressive thoughts have no business being in your head

Depressive thoughts have no business being in your head.You know that gun that exists in the back of your mind, taunting you? Making you feel like everything's gonna be better if you use it? Use it to shoot the thoughts instead. Imagine the phrase "I hate myself" being blown to bits by that gun. Take out every thought that brings you pain with that gun, and then get rid of the gun too, because it's still a bad reminder. And if your head feels empty now because your thoughts of worry have been there so long, you need to realize that now is your chance to fill that private space with whatever makes you happy - whatever will keep the sad thoughts away. Your brain is powerful, but it needs you to tell it what to focus on.

Non/Disney-Raise Your Glass

This video just made everything in life better for me.

Men Don't Lead Women Out of Closets

This is something that just spouted out of my mouth in a conversation about relationships, and I realize how true (and hilarious) this really is.

I must be the strangest bisexual female out there, because while I am interested in females, I am terrified of actually getting to know them romantically or... physically. And between high school drama and the media telling me men are cheating scum who make it so you can never love again but you still want to try because you have some innate desire to continue our dysfunctional species, I'm not so thrilled about trying to find a guy either. So, what exactly am I looking for?

I haven't figured that out yet, but then again, I'm only 17. This could be a phase for all I know. But, if I do stick with the way my sexuality is heading, I'll be leaning towards girls for a while.

But back to my statement: "Men don't lead women out of closets." It just doesn't happen. See, if you are a straight female, or any female really, the chances of a man getting you to leave your heavenly closet is about as easy as wrestling chocolate from our mouths. I wouldn't depart from my clothes unless a guy held a spanking new credit card in his hands for me to use to my heart's content. I'm not a gold digger, I just appreciate a good pair of shoes... and multiple pairs of jeans... and perhaps another sweater...

Now, if you are a lesbian or bisexual female, you're going to have some ignorant men telling you that you just need the right guy to set you straight. That is more insulting than someone calling me a faggot right to my face. Because not only does that statement tell me that I'm wrong in loving a woman, but it also makes me feel like a man is belittling me, and as history proves, women don't like it when a man tries to "put them in their place." It wasn't my decision to have these feelings, but it was my decision to accept them and pursue them, and I will not be insulted or ashamed of doing what I want to do to make myself happy. If I let that happen, then I'd have another thing to add to my depression, and pardon my French, but FUCK THAT.

If I want to sit in my closet surrounded by beautiful clothes while I kiss my girlfriend under a rack of shirts, then I will. And I will not let a man try to pull me away from that paradise.

Repeating Disaster (A song I wrote)

I turn my tears into stones so they can hurt you too.
Might not break your bones, but the message'll get through.
Take a good hard look at what we've become.
The monsters are coming out, so you better run.

No future's set in stone...
any place could be your home...
wish the past was unknown...
so we won't know -

we're repeating disaster...
we're repeating disaster...
we're repeating disaster (disaster)...
no, we're repeating disaster...

Harsh lines set into your face.
Tell the time that the pain took place.
Hide all you want but you can't disguise your eyes... they're like an inkwell brimming over...
the story's told every night you sleep.
The poor souls just sit and weep and you... well you're a human too.

No future's set in stone...
any place could be your home...
wish the past was unknown...
so we won't know -

we're repeating disaster....
we're repeating disaster...
we're repeating disaster (disaster)...
oh no, we're repeating disaster...

Reappearing shadows with crooked aims,
haunting legends with peculiar names,
childhood memories based on broken games,
these same faces oh these same faces.
Invisible supporters hidden in the frames,
hateful people with ridiculous claims -
oh the damage they cause isn't it a shame,
these same faces, these dear old faces!

we're repeating disaster....
we're repeating disaster...
we're repeating disaster...
oh we're repeating repeating yes!
we're repeating disaster!
we're repeating disaster!
we should've run faster...
nooo, why are we repeating disaster..."

Proud To Be Out

I will not hide fancy in the fairer sex,
Nor place my feet upon these poor downtrodden necks.
I will not mumble profane words when I can shout displeasure,
Nor dance around my true feelings by talking 'bout the weather,
For if her beauty embraces my cold set eyes,
And her intellect easily rivals mine,
And her imagination inspires my soul,
Then shouldn't my love for her be what I show?

"When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time."

"When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time."

Teens commit suicide.

When you're a teen, you are supposed to be growing, trying to find yourself and who you are meant to be.

But when teens kill themselves before they even get a chance to see what they could have been... it just... ruins so much. Because they keep getting called out for trying to express themselves and find themselves, they push themselves so far away from everyone and everything else that... there's nothing left but their corpse... their body cold and empty.


I've been suicidal, and luckily it has not been because I've been bullied or because I'm gay... in fact being gay is one of the smaller reasons I don't like who I am. I'm mostly just afraid that the people I care about will be disappointed in me and drift away from me. People have distanced themselves from me because I needed to grow up or because I grew up to be someone they didn't like, and I really don't care much about the reasons why they stopped liking me - it just hurts that they did stop liking me. Best friends that I imagined having fun with for years to come stopped talking to me years ago, and it was never my decision to let that happen. It hurts when you can't control things.


I'm a little afraid that coming out to my family will be the final straw where they actually express their disappoint in my to my face. I know some of them don't agree with the things I've done or who I'm growing up to be, and in a way, I accept that because I don't plan on remaining very close to my family in the future. But still, the fact that someone you have grown so close to can just drop you from their heart like you were never meant to be there in the first place hurts so badly.


Right now, I really like this boy. And I know that as a teenager, I've had crushes come and go more often than I text, but he's different. I think he sort of ... initiated any flirting, and it's such a serious head game trying to figure out how he really feels about me. He's extremely weird, so I don't feel like the odd man out, he's a musician, he's an artist, and he's fun. Sometimes, I feel moments where a connection would be made if it were written that way in a story, but like I said, he's hard to figure out, so I can't figure out what he feels. And I like that - he keeps me guessing. As a girl who writes love stories, not knowing how my own is going to end up is a thrill. I can usually see how things might end up, and there's only been one instance where I was so naive and blinded by love that I couldn't see us heading for disaster. With this guy, I don't know what's going to happen, but even if it ends in heartbreak, I'd still be buzzing from the excitement of the few times we've spent together already.


But in liking him, I've realized something.


I haven't acted very much like myself around him, not because I felt like he would judge me, but because I've been too busy analyzing him, really. But if I am to be myself, how much of myself should I be? Not many people are accepting of gays, bisexuals, etc. Not many people are understanding of depressed people. I've been lucky to find some who are, but can I find any who would be willing to date a mess like me?


I didn't mean to make this personal, but if I kept writing about suicide, I was going to cry.


I'm still here. I like it here, being alive. I haven't known anyone who's committed suicide, and I hope I never do. It wouldn't make me stronger or weaker - it would make me scared that it could have been me giving up like that. I don't want to envision myself hanging from up high, or bleeding to death because I cut myself, or having my body mangled or torn apart by whatever gruesome end I thought would help. Because I know suicide doesn't solve anything. It doesn't solve any problems at all. It's like when I had a list of math problems to do, and no matter how hard I tried to work it out, no matter how many people I asked for help, I was still lost and confused, and I would leave the page blank. The problems were still there, and they still hurt me in the end, but the world would move on and those problems would be forgotten for me. My problems would just float around somewhere until they bothered someone else - they never go away for everyone.


Lately, I've been thinking about my brothers, and I've wanted to make some art piece with a message to them and anyone else who's misunderstood. My brothers express themselves, and even if they get into more dangerous and life-threatening situations than most people, I still think that they might outlive me soon. And I don't want that - I want to grow old with them. 


When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time.


I'm tired of slowly dying. I want to express myself, one art piece at a time.