Monthly Archives: July 2013

An Interesting Question — NSFW

All of my interesting things are coming from other places lately. My additional question, which will make more sense once one reads the snippet below, is, is something I read on a post somewhere else. Is it because there are so many allies involved in the movement, that, for better or worse, we’re possibly taken for granted? The post I read said there were more straight people involved at some event than gay people–that is one person’s opinion, and he may or may not have been correct in his assumption. I don’t know what event it was.

That is just as this man’s words below are his opinion, although he has examples to back him up. I just found it interesting. I don’t know how many gay men pay attention to that end of politics, the idiotic politicians who think that women’s bodies are “designed to shut down during rape” so women don’t become pregnant because of a rape, therefore abortion isn’t an issue in that case. That’s the one I remember most clearly, because it was the most insane, but it was said, on national TV, along with a plethora of other things proving that these men knew nothing about female anatomy or how it worked. Yet they were going to make decisions that effected our lives and bodies? I don’t think so. But they are. I read an interesting story about a 14 year old girl whose parents support her involvement in politcs, and go over what’s happening and how it could effect her. They’ve taken her to see how the political process works on the local and state level (she’s from Texas).  Her picture, with her dad, in front of the capital pretty much sums the religious aspect of it up for me, even though I’m not religious.

Reblogged from Queer Tips:

“LGBT history overflows with stories of women who have come to the aide of gay men: the concerned mother who founded PFLAG, the doctor who proved that homosexuality was not a pathological illness, the popular 1960s communist who wrote that gays and lesbians were born that way and should be true to themselves in order to find happiness, and the countless number of lesbians who, after years of feeling excluded from the gay liberation movement by their gay brothers, put aside their frustrations to care for them at the height of the AIDS epidemic when hospitals wouldn’t.These are just a handful of the famous examples. It leaves out the sisters who defended us against bullies, the best girlfriends we came out to and took to the prom, and the mothers who handled our fathers who didn’t always know the right way to say they love us.This history begs a question that nobody seems to be asking: If women have stood and fought alongside gay men in some of our darkest, toughest, hardest won battles, why are most gay men paying so little attention to the vicious war currently being waged against women: the attack on their constitutional right to a safe and legal abortion?

Let’s Be Strong Men Who Stand Up For Women (Patrick Hinds for The Advocate)

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Billy and Tuesday Cain outside the Texas Capitol (Credit: Billy Cain)

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The Landfill Harmonic

I joined this site to follow, The Upworthiest, and they have some of the coolest things. I don’t watch TV and generally tend to miss some of the more interesting things on the news (well, truthfully, some of the more interesting things tend to not make the news).

This is one of their most recent stories, a project started on Kickstarter to make a documentary in Paraguay:

http://www.landfillharmonicmovie.com/

The Recycled Orchestra

The Recycled Orchestra

The Recycled Orchestra--Violin Detail

The Recycled Orchestra–Violin Detail

The Recycled Orchestra--Sax Detail

The Recycled Orchestra–Sax Detail

Unsettlements at the Saturday Market

While at the Saturday Market yesterday, I saw something I’ve never seen before, and it disturbed me. Eugene is a liberal city, for the most part, two hours from Portland. We get all sorts of things here, and most go completely unremarked on because everyone just says, “It’s Eugene,” as if that explains everything. In most cases, strangely, it often does.

On a popular corner, a family stood looking as if they’d been dropped straight out of the Depression. Better dressed, but of the era. They had probably four or five kids–I truly was trying not to pay too much attention for fear I might say something (but I trusted myself not to–public confrontation isn’t my thing unless there’s actually physical violence taking place, and involvement in that would just be to try to stop it.) They were standing there very quietly, as if there was a bubble around them. They didn’t speak to anyone, no one spoke to them. A young man in his early to mid twenties played spoons under a tree across the sidewalk and a few more feet away from them, and he wasn’t paying them any attention either, and was actually quite cheerful. He was definitely your typical Eugenian–non African-American but with dreadlocks, tie-died everything, and extremely friendly.

The truly creepy thing about the silent family on the couple was that the youngest child, a boy of about seven who looked far more serious than any seven year old should ever look, was holding a cardboard sign reading “Sex before marriage and drunkenness lead you off the path to Heaven.” There were three of us. My friend was looking at something else, but her friend whom I didn’t know very well and I looked at each other and I could tell we were thinking the same things. She said, quietly, “Does he even know what those two things are?” I thought he might, growing up in a family like that. I said I wished I had some sort of “It Gets Better” literature to give him. That would have caused a stir. We were both convincing ourselves we could walk by without saying anything when all of a sudden we heard the man playing the spoons talking to someone in a little louder than normal tone.

He was saying, quite enthusiastically, to a young man probably in 6th or 7th grade, who was slightly plump and had his head down, listening, blond wavy hair falling around his face–he gave off the air of someone who was picked on at school. Back to spoon man. He was telling this boy that he could do anything he wanted to. There was no one who could stop him. He had the boy sit down next to him and said, “These are just spoons, you can learn to play them too,” and started to teach him how. It was a moment of pure awesomeness in the midst of all that strangeness. And while he did it to help the boy there, I think he meant for the children across the sidewalk to hear it as well. You don’t always have to live that lifestyle. You will have choices when you are older.

I thought if it was frustrating for us just to see it and walk past, how frustrating it must be to sit there and see it for the allotted time the spoon playing man had to sit there and busk. It was one of those moments that you just sort of treasure. This young man was quick enough to recognize a situation and use it to help not only the boy right in front of him, who needed the attention, but send a message to those he couldn’t approach.

So for any of you who go to a market and just think, “Oh, those stupid street musicians,” think again. We also saw a fantastically funny accordionist (I did say accordionist) who was all about the geek and science and sang songs from the point of view of a mountain that talked about tectonic plates, and she was also just downright awesome. She stopped for her “Creature Feature”–this time the Star Nosed Mole. She was also very nice and approachable and I talked to her for a little while. (I tried to teach myself the accordion–it was unsuccessful. My excuse was any instrument you had to strap yourself into couldn’t be safe. It was a lie, it was just that I could usually play any instrument I picked up and the accordion baffled me. It was easier to say that rather than admit defeat–which I did to some. Mine was also broken, and some of the buttons were broken and had fallen inside, and you could hear them rattling around inside. It was the buttons that truly terrified me, and didn’t make any sense. If they’d been labeled or something, like on an autoharp, but no, miles and miles of buttons like a whole crop of them you should harvest…too scary. For all I know, there could have been a star nosed mole in there. Some of the the bellows were also cracked, so they let out a little sigh, which I interpreted as, “Why are you trying to do this to me?”) I finally sold my accordion on Craigslist. It was an antique, with lots of rhinestones and very pretty. This is true–I sold it to a movie prop company, so my accordion is probably now more famous than I am, even with an uncredited role. Okay, the time I am spending looking for a picture that resembled it has passed from research into a waste of time. It wasn’t a brand name that was popular. I’m not even entirely sure what country it was from. It was pretty. You’ll just have to trust me. I’m a sucker for rhinestones.

My parents have an accordion they keep trying to pawn off on me as they are downsizing (as if, knowing how much stuff we have, we have room for an accordion) and they remember the other accordion I had (that I got rid of (I think there’s a miscommunication of logic here). If I start acting indecisive, my boyfriend waves his arms and mouths the word “no.” He has an fairly intense dislike of most accordions. Unless they’re played by anyone in They Might Be Giants. Then they’re cool. They’re just not cool if I attempt one. lol He also doesn’t like bagpipes. Granted, these are both loud instruments, but I think he’s giving them both a bad rap. Did someone playing a bagpipe come and torture him as a child? The Barmy Bagpipe Boogeyman? He just says they’re better played in large spaces. Preferably far away from him. Maybe I have more British Isles blood in me than he does (in my mutt background), although I think he has a lot of Welsh. Well, as much as you can these days unless a recent relative came over. Most of mine speak with a distinctly Oklahoman twang, though. My boyfriend has even told me I have an accent, which I think is impossible other than my inability to make my “e’s” and “i’s” sound different, which is probably more of a speech/hearing impediment than anything else. We finally narrowed it down to the way I talk, and how I talk, not so much as to the way I pronounce things. If anything, when I pronounce anything, it’s usually the British pronunciation from watching too much British TV when I was growing up.

I mean, my ancestors came over in the 1600’s, and as far as I know, no one married anyone interesting that came over from anywhere. There was an intriguing group that settled somewhere–in the Carolinas?–that came from Germany and I think the little community still speaks mostly German. And Quakers.

How did I get from point A to point B in this post? Sort of a meandery post.

Addedum to the Jungle, via IGN

IGN, a ‘gaming site aimed at 18-34 year old men, attracts over 40 million unique visitors monthly to their site worldwide’, according to the “About Us” section of their website. 40 million unique visitors. That’s a lot.

They have recently instituted some changes to their forums, which I thought was timely considering my last post. If they can attempt this at a site of their magnitude, there’s no reason it can’t be attempted at Goodreads, or even Amazon, given they have the people to do it, and do it fairly. I think it’s extremely interesting, and something to think about.

Here’s the link the the article at IGN:

http://www.ign.com/articles/2013/07/12/changing-the-comments-at-ign

Here’s the article, written by IGN’s Head Editor, Steve Butts:

Changing the Comments at IGN

IGN announces new moderation guidelines.

So there’s this problem with IGN. A lot of the comments lately have been terrible.

Horrifying is probably more like it.

While most IGN comments are respectful and productive, we’ve let the abusive comments get to a point where they dominate our discussions. When even just one hostile comment is enough to ruin an entire thread, we’ve got to take our job as curators of our site more seriously. The best way to create an appetite is to feed it and, by letting these abusive comments live on IGN, we’ve been encouraging more of the same. It’s long past time for that to stop.

Some of what we’re dealing with is an extension of the trash-talking that’s part of a competitive gaming culture. Some of it is just the bold lack of empathy that the facelessness of the internet allows. Some of it is just the natural tendency of some people to find happiness in making other people miserable. The excitement over next-gen consoles and the increasing popularity of games in general means that we’re seeing more new users on the site each and every day. When you add all those factors together, it’s clear we need to pay more attention to our interactions with each other.

With that in mind, we’ve revised our community moderation guidelines and brought on several new moderators. As Editor-in-Chief, I’ve also made it clear to the entire content team that moderating comments and positively confronting abuse is a critical part of our jobs. All of us — staff, moderators, and community included — have to lead by example. No longer can we simply throw our hands up and suggest that cleaning up IGN comments is someone else’s responsibility, or worse, pointless to even try.

We’ve written new guidelines for the IGN comment culture and moderation, which are going into effect immediately. They outline what we don’t allow. Take them seriously and hold us all, readers and staff alike, accountable for their enforcement. Positively confront and report abuse where you see it. I promise I’ll be doing the same.

Will that mean we won’t tolerate disagreement or fiery debates? Not at all. We’re an audience of advocates who come to IGN because we feel passionately about certain platforms, products, and philosophies. Being able to express and defend those tastes is part of why we’re here. Articulate disagreements about those tastes are a healthy and necessary part of those interactions. The comment guidelines aren’t meant to stop that.

The problem comes when a disagreement stops being about the merits of the argument and starts being about the people making it. It’s okay for us to disagree with each other, but we won’t tolerate abuse and threats disguised as disagreement. We also won’t tolerate ad hominem attacks, where you insult a person’s character or identity merely because you don’t like that they’re not the same person as you. None of us are perfect, and we all have bad days, of course, but we can’t let a difference of opinion devolve into being nasty to each other.

This change starts today. I’d like to say the change will be instant, but it won’t. It will take time as we discover and encourage new habits in each other. I’d like to say that the change will be absolute, but it won’t be that either. It will take constant attention and thoughtful reinterpretation. What I can say is that the change will be worth the effort.

If you have any questions about any of this or want to know how you can help, please sound off in the comments below, or reach out to me or our Community Manager, Sean Allen.

Steve Butts is IGN’s editor-in-chief. Keep up with him @SteveButts on Twitter or SteveButts on IGN. Do not follow him down the streets of San Francisco.

Welcome to the Jungle (gym)

I’ve been posting some about bullying at the elementary through high school levels. There’s another kind of bullying going on, right now, probably as I write this, that I have to admit I haven’t delved into with the depth and resourcefulness I normally would. Mostly because the topic makes me shake my head in disbelief that people could be so petty, so immature, and so completely amoral. And I’m not talking about children, I’m talking about adults, the people who are supposed to be examples to these children.

I didn’t do a lot of research because I didn’t really think it was needed. I’ve seen the writing spray painted all over the walls of both sides of this repugnant war that’s taking place.

Has anyone read The Pushcart War, a children’s book about a battle between street merchants fought with pea shooters? How about Comfort and Joy, a Bill Forsythe film about rival ice cream companies fighting over a recipe for ice cream that, in the end, end up being members of the same huge family? Those are delightful, because they poke fun at the ridiculousness of how far some people go to win.

So what, then, am I talking about? I had heard and read about this on Goodreads in some of the forums, and was shocked. When Amazon bought Goodreads, I remember there was concern that some of the pathetic, infantile behavior of reviewers on Amazon would make its way over to Goodreads. I had no idea it wasn’t restricted simply to the reviewers, but some of the authors as well. I was on Amazon yesterday, looking at a very long thread of discussion about this, about how dissenting views on books mysteriously disappeared, as did those who didn’t particularly like the book or recommend it. Someone would write a post, recommend it to a friend, and by the time the friend got there to check it out, that short of an amount of time, the post would be gone. They would repost it. That one would disappear as well. What’s going on, Amazon? And Goodreads, I thought it was just sockpuppets and reviewers going through on their mad slap a one star rating on everything in the m/m romance section or against particular authors in that section, or any other author you happened to dislike. I didn’t realize they were pre-planned strategic assaults. And authors. Authors should know better. They should know not to engageIt’s not worth it. Breathe. Count to fifty before even thinking of reaching for that keyboard. When you engage with someone who wants to get involved in nothing but an insult war, you’re sinking to that level. Walk away. Be a duck and let their words just roll off of you. Easier said than done, but be a professional, be the person other authors will respect.

Because right now, anyone who has engaged in this behavior is right back in elementary school, it’s recess, and I have all the clothespins. What the heck? Clothespins? Yeah, that took me a while, too. See, I worked in a classroom that wasn’t fully involved with the rest of the school, and the school had assistants who worked as recess monitors. Kids would come up to me all the time, because I was a grown up, and ask if they could go to the bathroom, George was picking on them, Charlie hit Elizabeth, Arthur called Sandy a bad word, and I had no idea what to do with them. I worked with children who were nonverbal, and this barrage of requests was a shock to me. I finally asked one of the other assistants what they did. “Just tell them you don’t have any clothespins,” he said, “and they’ll go find someone who does.”

So, the ineffable power of the clothespins, and, as I said, I have them, just for this moment.

See, these behaviors, reviewers going after authors,

authors going after reviewers,

reviewers giving books that are a “threat” to “their” authors one star,

reviewers giving books that go against their belief system one star, say, because of sexual orientation,

reviews disappearing because they are unflattering, flagged as abuse by who knows how many of the author’s “allies,” or the authors themselves–I have no idea on this one,

reviewers not actually reading books and giving one star reviews simply for the hell of it, or saying, this really isn’t my type of book, and giving it one star,

writing reviews that are nothing but insults to the author and have nothing to do with the book,

and anything else I may have inadvertently left out, on behalf of either the reviewer or the author.

Look at these things. “Oh, they’re not that bad, they’re just reviewers being reviewers.” That’s what they always say, isn’t it? Excuse me? Did I give you a clothespin? No, you may not leave.

Now look at these things and ask yourself this question: Are these things I would do or say if the person were standing right in front of me?

I don’t want to hear the answers. You have to answer to yourselves. To your own moral codes. Because think about that question and then think about the following issue, that is also being committed by reviewers and some authors online.

In some cases, reviewers and some authors have searched and found data on all their intended “Targets,” including where they live, children’s names, where they work, phone numbers, etcetera. A frightening amount of information, in some cases. Excuse me, NSA? There might be some candidates for jobs for you over here. Because let me tell you something, those of you who have done this? You have gone TOO far. That is stalkerish, restraining order time far. Would you want people to have all that personal information on you? People who don’t like you and who know what they might be planning? Think on that. You are nothing but a terrorist literary group, which is nothing I ever thought I would say. Over what? Ratings on a book. Or a book written by someone whose beliefs you don’t like, which I believes pushes it into the land of a hate crime. If nothing else, this knowledge is intended to be used as a threat. No? Why did you look it up, then? Sending them Harry & David’s at Thanksgiving?

This is nothing more than bullying. Pick any search engine and look up “bullying” and “suicide.” Think about the example adults need to provide. Is this it? The anonymity of the computer that you use as your shield when making these attacks, you think those kids don’t know how to use that technology far more efficiently than you do? How much better is what you’re doing than what they’re doing? Driving children and teens to suicide?

What is wrong that there is such hatred getting thrown around on these book sites? I think part of it must be that people aren’t actually reading, because otherwise they wouldn’t have the time to waste acting in such a manner. So, all it really takes for people to lose their humanity is to stick them behind a computer so no one knows who they are. Boy, then they’re tough. It’s easy to be obscene when you’re unseen.

This won’t cause a drop of difference in the whole debacle. But I’ve had my clothespins for a few minutes. Now each of you take one and report to the Principal’s office.

Kiss That Frog–I Dare You. No, I Double-Dare You! Review: Oil & Water by Goesta Struve-Dencher

Oil & Water

by Goesta Struve-Dencher
ebook, 74 pages, FREE
Published June 18th 2013 by M/M Romance Group @ goodreads

Oil and Water Cover

******************
This is the tale of a nerdy young man, Enzo, and a man who would make the Gods proud, Jericho. Enzo lusts after Jericho, who is a straight and mermaid conquering man as any other…straight and mermaid conquering man. They both have special powers which make them extremely special men. There is a description of the story on Goodreads which explains the situation much more succinctly than I can, given my tendency to go on and on and digress.

Commencement of Review-ish Observations and Comments

While I was confused in a few places as to whose mind I was in, I realized that in some ways it didn’t really matter–Enzo and Jericho were experiencing a sense of twinning of identities so they were literally melded together. Those are the places where it’s important to know that it’s Jericho’s mind that is the dominant mind.

The amusing part is that Enzo is presented as the “puppy dog”– a clumsy, get-in-your-way, adorable, ball of wriggling fur (without the fur–no shifters here) with melty chocolate eyes–innocent and adolescent in his fawning over Jericho. His lust for Jericho is obvious. Jericho is, after all, Neptune risen from the sea, strong, bold, and a conqueror of women. It’s that last bit that causes the problem for Enzo.

Just what does define sexuality? Preference of the sex of the object of your desire? Whom one is invariably attracted to? Women, men, both, neither, trans*? That’s vague, but just use however you define your own sexuality in reading that.

Jericho, while exuding masculinity, is a gentle soul with the power to heal through his touch (darn it, Platters, return from whence you came). He is indubitably (uh-oh, watch out, I used an adverb) straight, and finds it difficult to give Enzo his treatments knowing Enzo is very up for them and finds them quite relieving. Jericho is extremely patient with this.

I’m just giving a summary, this isn’t a review. Okay, to get the ball rolling again, Enzo is not quite the innocent he looks to be. Behind those puppy-dog melty browns are the calculating eyes of a Jack Russell Terror (okay, maybe terriers are known more for their tenaciousness than for their intelligence–that works too). Tenacious is actually more apt. In a blissed out moment, Enzo kisses Jericho, and sparks fly. Literally.

Jericho discovers he’s not quite as straight as he thought. At least, in this story, not with Enzo. In seeing Enzo’s true essence, his “Enzo-ness,” Jericho sees himself as well, his sexual identity, and realizes he loves Enzo as well; Jericho’s true essence that Jericho has been unable to see in himself despite his ability to see it in others.

The reference to the frog prince is very clever, reversed to suit the sexuality of the story–taking an old, familiar tale and turning it on its head. Ribbet, indeed.

A kiss still has power, the power to transform, the power to bring to the surface what is hidden. After all, how many fairy tales involve kissing? So go ahead. Next time you see one, kiss that frog.

Frog PrinceImage from: http://fairytalesbytempleton.blogspot.com

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Words on Bullying Not From Me

Reblogged Below

Bullies Are Stupid & I Love The Way You Walk

Tashmica Torok

When I enter a conversation about bullying and I am asked if I think children should be left alone to work through it themselves, I always say the same thing.

If children were meant to fend for themselves, we would leave them on the beach like sea turtles.

Our natures, our instincts tell us something different.  As mothers, we relate more to the  lioness.  We are more like bears than salmon.  We defend.  We teach.  We support.  We nurture.  That is our existence as parents.  That is our role, our pleasure and our great responsibility.

We try not to shelter.  We try to walk the fine line between the hover and the safe distance.

My niece Lilly, has been the victim of bullying.  A few of the students at Holt High School’s 9th grade campus think that my niece walks funny.  When she ambles by, they tell her so. …

View original post 2,658 more words

A Few Odds and Ends

I have posted a new link on the side for the “It Gets Better” project. They have a good blog on tumblr and on the web. I’m reblogging this from their web site (June 10th, 2013):

trans children

They support, as their pledge says: Everyone deserves to be respected for who they are. I pledge to spread this message to my friends, family and neighbors. I’ll speak up against hate and intolerance whenever I see it, at school and at work. I’ll provide hope for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and other bullied teens by letting them know that it gets better.

Dan Savage and Terry Miller have a video up on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7IcVyvg2Qlo

It’s very cool.

On another completely different note, I am delving into the Regency era. I ordered a lot of 23 Georgette Heyer books (the woman who in essence started the Regency novel as we know it today). No pun intended, but that’s a lot of books. I also ordered a book by a woman who studied Georgette Heyer for her Ph.D. Her Ph.D, folks. That’s fairly serious business. But, she wrote it up, all of her research and notes on the Regency period (roughly 1811-1820)–it all makes perfect sense once I figured it out–the period between poor mad King George III, when he was no longer able to rule starting in 1811, with the Regency Act, until his son came of age in 1820 and became King. Seeing that, according to wiki, King George III had fifteen children, it’s a wonder both he and the queen consort didn’t go mad.

I found a page that looks to have a lot of potential but haven’t completely scoped it out yet:

http://www.writersandeditors.com/for_editors_57430.htm

There’s not a lot out there on being an editor. There’s a lot on self-editing. There are books on technical editing and scientific editing, but not so much on editing fiction. I’m guessing there are so many books on self-editing now because of the rise in self-publishing and the fact most people can’t afford to hire editors to go over their books.

Taking Steps Ahead, or Moving Away from the Past

cropped-kuksi_imminent_utopia.jpg

This is somewhat of a follow-up post to some of the posts starting with When Groups go Wrong. I have been having issues with that whole event, one of them being letting go.

Letting go of things is difficult, for many reasons. It can be something we’re used to and we don’t like change. Check. It can hurt. Check. (But it already hurts, so then, what difference does moving away make?) The voice of reason–not mine–interjects–disengage. See, luckily I have some voices of reason, because I haven’t been reasonable at all times. In fact, I’ve been downright obstinate in my refusal to be reasonable. Why? I trust the people giving me advice. “Just stop dealing with the people who are making me miserable.” “Stop going back.” That is the absolute best advice anyone can give someone in a situation like mine. I wasn’t in the place to listen to the words. I could hear them, but I wasn’t listening.

One of the people involved in the whole debacle I considered my friend, and I cared about him. Whatever the situation is at Headquarters in terms of identities, people, numbers, reality, I considered him my friend and I was determined I could make him see reason and we could be friends again. I did crazy things things I normally wouldn’t do. I asked a friend on the board to contact him, and he was horrible to her. That should have been a clue right there. I felt terrible about that–she didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and he owes her an apology. I tried to send couched messages through my blog. I thought, he read it once, maybe he still does. “Not very likely,” my stalwart friend told me. He’s realistic. I’m better at deluding myself than I thought.

The thing that really hurt, the reason really keeping me back, was that my supposed friend hasn’t made any contact with me whatsoever. He had, on the “sage advice” of the “moderator,” blocked me as soon as things started to happen. Anyone who reads this or knows me knows communication is incredibly important to me. This silence from him, my complete inability to contact him, made me appreciate a little more what it must be like for some of the students I worked with who were nonverbal but had so much to say. I still went back and read the posts, and after a sadly long time I realized something, and I confirmed it with my friend, who agreed, so I knew I wasn’t going crazy.

My friend was changing. He is using phrases he never used to use, acting in ways he never used to act, saying things he never would have said. I have never divulged his secrets to anyone. If anyone has, its on his side. But they’re his secrets, he can tell the world if he wants. Now, sadly, it seems he won’t have to. On the very slight chance you are reading this, are you happier now? More fully realized as…an individual? Is this what you wanted? Because you’ve succeeded, and it’s a tragedy. Which is better: having more people like you on a superficial level, or fewer people like you for who you really are?

Sometimes we hold on to things so tight, we want things so badly, and then the truth hits so hard and so suddenly at first the realization is a relief. What I held on to was my old friend, the person I wanted to talk to was my old friend, not this new person using his name. I don’t like him. I want nothing to do with him. If I met him in real life, I’d think he was a jerk.

So there it ends. First I was grieving for the loss of a friend. Now I’m grieving for the death of a friend, at least that persona, that identity. But there’s a finality to that. That ends.

Please get help. There are links on the right side. Use them. 

And this, hopefully, will be the last of this series of posts. It is time to move forward. Enough is enough. My brain has been re-aligned, and will stop moving in circles but drive forward, except for the occasional times when it wants to do wheelies for fun. I am very grateful to have good friends who are patient enough to deal with my temporary insanity and give me good advice as well. I don’t know how I got so lucky. It was just a good connection at the right time.

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