Big or Small, Lies are Lies

When I was a child I was told a lie.  No one meant for it to be a lie, but in the end it was.  You can be whatever you want.  Now, my limited number of readers thus far, I agree with this lie, but what makes it a lie is the second part of this equation is always omitted: One must strive against adversity--our closest will always try to talk us out of our dreams and goals.  Always.  Our parents, siblings, family, friends, wives, husbands and more shall always give us the "sane perspective" wrapped in good intentions, laced with jealousy of their own dreams tucked neatly away in a box, never to be acted upon again.  They do not mean to project, but they do and it is not right, it is not the correct thing to do to their loved ones.  "I'm only trying to protect you," comes into play.  Protect us from what?  Protect us from a situation in which they found themselves in when they were not talented or did not have the drive to continue?  Or protect from their ignorant fears of what it is we wish to accomplish?  Let them live in their dejection and let it not affect your life.  Now, this being said, make sure your dreams, if related to talent, can cater to your true talent.  No one wants to see or hear another William Hung.

Rule #62

Such a simple thing really, and we all make it so friggin hard.

My blogs in the past have been angry and hateful. My conscience has changed as I have changed. No one really reads my blogs, which is a blessing; for who truly wants to spread hatred and anger? I spread it because I was living in sickness. For those of my kindred fellows out there that understand without words, bless you; for the others, google rule #62 and realize that the change I experience on a daily basis can be anyone's...for we are all sick somehow and can benefit from contrary action.

Love to all,

A.

Hospitalized

Intellectually speaking, we all know that we are not immortal. We all know that we will grow old, get sick sometimes, shouldn't eat certain foods, smoke, etc, but until something happens to us to snap us out of our daily routines we live on, continuously doing more harm to ourselves. And when that happens, and it will, I hope that you will have more people come to your bedside wanting to lift you up and support you than you know what to do with.
I had a scary hospital stay that lasted five days. Two people came. Two. I had one friend, an RN, which continuously sent texts asking what was happening, where the infection was…not how I was doing. This experience has left me wondering who my friends are, who I call friend, how do I choose my friends? I did not walk away from this situation thanking God for the abundance of friends that helped me through this time in my life; I walked away wondering what the hell just happened. In an age where status changes happen in the blink of an eye due to social networking, I didn’t even have a comment from my family members about the ordeal. I don’t have any kind of delusions that acquaintances are friends; I merely thought I had more friends.
Yes, this is somewhat of a pity party for poor little old me. Sue me.

Adam Lambert

Dear Mr. Lambert.

We all know you are gay.
You really didn't even have to tell us (but at least you didn't deny it for years like Mr. Aiken did).
Yes, yes, you were trying to make a point that one night on that awards show when you had that bj simulation thing happening. But...kissing is way hotter than outright sex and makes more of a point than just boning someone.
And...even though I hate to even say this, you do have a fantastic voice, which is overshadowed by your incessant need to try and shock everyone around you.
And now you are reported attacking a paparazzo. Imagine my surprise when I read it was a slap fest. Then you twitter an apology for wearing that ridiculous hat while you were slapping the paparazzo. Then you also twitter that the paparazzo egged you on. I don't doubt that, but everyone knows about the paparazzo. It comes with fame. Period. So stop being such a baby and either punch them or play nice with them.

As a gay man...this is yet another reason to be embarrassed that Mr. Lambert is gay.

Old News..but I just read about it

Paris Hilton does not have to do jail time.

I assume the last time that bitch did jail time it was waaaay too traumatic for her. And God forbid she follow the rules like the rest of us poor people. If time travel were possible, I'd hire someone to go back and donkey kick her mother so the world would be spared of her offspring. Seriously...is it Paris' fault for being the way she is, or did her parent's fail? Hmm. Reminds me of The Breakfast Club (paraphrasing): "You don't matter in this school. If you vanished no one would care." I mean she got famous for having sex, filming it, and then *oopsie* leaking it to the world. Now she remains famous because she gets caught with drugs. Real stars have a drug lackey to carry their stuff so when they do get pulled over they don't get caught. Is Daddy leaving her the keys to the kingdom? I sure hope not. If her personal life is remotely close to how she'd run the business...let's just say she'd sleep with everyone on the board, film it, and then on the way to drop it to a news station get pulled over with cocaine stains on her nose and tell the police: "Oh, no, officer...that cocaine on my nostril is not mine...it's a friend's."

And I'm betting she still wouldn't serve a sentence.

To Whom it may Concern...

Funny how this particular salutation line never gets to the correct "whom it may concern". It happens with resumes, it happens with cover letters, it happens when clients fax information (normally it is the client's fault in that situation), but whatever the reason, it happens. In this case, it is happening because that is what I want.

A few months ago, something traumatic happened to me. A trust was broken, a bond was destroyed by someone who really just doesn't give a shit. Now, I don't know if this person's "not giving a shit" mentality bleeds over into all aspects of his personal life, to other people, his wife, or his children (and "frankly my dear, I don't give a damn") but what I do know is that he directed it at me and I took it personally. So personally that it disrupted my entire life, which is unfair (to say the very least) but the crappiest part? It didn't affect him. I don't know if he's emotionally retarded, or just plain stupid, but he didn't put two and two together until I got another party involved. Needless to say, he still didn't give a shit. Oh, the words were there, the polite smile-lips quivering with the words "why the eff are you still here?" tempting and daring me to fly across the table and fatten them.

Now, I know what you're saying, thinking, or screaming at your computer screen and I don't blame you. Without all the details this entry sounds like a "woe is me" spaghetti noodle lashing. What I will say is my reaction, my giving the situation the name Trauma, is not something I do lightly. Read my other entries...I can be mouthy, opinionated, abrupt...even bitchy, but none of my entries remotely paints a picture that I am a delicate flower or a fragile crystal shard that gets his feelings hurt at the word "Boo!". Realizing I was that distraught (I am not even kidding) was a shock to myself.

Now, how does one person's behavior create this kind of trauma? I dunno. First hand, I will say that it can. And if it does, first it will blindside you, and then debilitate you, until you force yourself to find out what the problem is.

So.

To Whom it may Concern,

ES&D

Sincerely,

Me.

Gay Marriage

I support it.

If heterosexuals can get married and then divorced and take half, then homosexuals should have the same right.

And if America actually lets this happen, I will go back to school and get my degree in marital law and make a ton of money.

I doubt that will happen in my lifetime. Earth is more likely to be struck by an errant asteroid or meteorite or fall victim to Paris Hilton becoming a mother...God forbid.