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What Do You Have To Say? - I'm Just Wild About... [Dec. 30th, 2007|01:11 pm]
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[Current Mood |accomplished]
[Current Music |even in death by evanescence]

Passion is such a strong word; i think it has to be used very carefully and thoughtfully to describe something.  My true passions are Music and Writing; although i guess they could be intertwined into one. Music, for me, is an escape, so to speak, for life;as is writing , in a way. When i listen to music, depending on what it is, it takes me away from my own thoughts and problems, if only for the duration of the song. On the other hand, some music helps me relate my problems and thoughts to someone else, usually the person singing or writing the song, so i don't feel quite so alone in life. Also, playing music is a big part of it. When i pick up that guitar, i feel like i can do anything, or say anything, through the notes i play. It's easiest for me to express myself that way, without using words. Writing kind of does the same thing, for me.  If I'm writing a poem, i can put my feelings on paper, so as to not have them bottled up inside me any longer, and to hopefully let someone else read and possibly relate to them. If im writing a story, or any other piece, the purpose is to expand my creativity in the hopes of entertaining and possibly teaching others. Those are my true passions
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What Do You Have To Say? - A Holiday Memory [Dec. 26th, 2007|02:04 am]
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Share a holiday memory.
holidays are evil....but thanksgiving last yr was kinda interesting
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lonely [Dec. 26th, 2007|02:02 am]
gah, this sucks. i hate being alone
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This is something that's very important to me [Dec. 23rd, 2007|01:25 pm]
[Current Mood |nauseatednauseated]



I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the Realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn't have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

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