What a distraction. A bubble. A waste of time. A source of social neglect. I spent way too much time on Facebook over the last two years. I made some friends that I never met and ruined a friendship or two with people I actually knew. It was good to follow the news. It was good until I read the comments of bozos and I foolishly engaged them in circular arguments. I spent hours playing a game with dragons? Why in the cuss did I ever get into that? I should have been talking to people in my area and creating real friendships. I should have been working out and cooking healthy food. I should have read a hundred books. I should have written on this blog and written my congressman. I should have hiked a thousand miles. I should have found a woman to be with. A woman who wasn’t obsessed with Facebook and handsome guys. I know I’m not supposed to regret and everything happens for a reason. All the bad things build character and help us grow stronger. Facebook made me weak and forgetful and unappreciative of what I have and who I am. I flirted with girls I’d never meet. I trolled racists whose minds I couldn’t change. I fed my anger and envy and depression as I scrolled and scrolled through pages of statuses I had nothing to do with. I laughed at some and learned a few things but mostly I judged. I in no way became a better stronger person or made the world a better place through Facebook. The only people I touched in a positive way already shared my views. Now I know. I can start back again and build my brain into a healthy muscle. I’m going to read more books and go on more hikes and go out and meet more people. I want to listen to people’s voices while we have drinks. I want to meet women and look into their eyes. No more Facebook for me!
Until a few years ago I had no idea what transgender was or that it was even a thing. Growing up I just never heard the word, but once I did and knew what it meant I was completely okay with it. I was okay with it because it in no way hurts me or anyone else if a person was unfortunate enough to be born in a body they don’t identify with. If you can, try to imagine the confusion and conflict a person must feel growing up feeling like a woman in a man’s body or vice versa. Life is hard enough when everyone thinks of you as normal. To have this identity crisis as a kid and live amongst a culture that looks down on it and even hates it must be terrifying. People need to get over themselves and just try be nice to anyone having struggles they themselves don’t understand.
The only thing I don’t like about any of the LGBT or cis dialogue is that we have to have labels at all. I don’t want a label. There isn’t any one word that you can put on me to even start explaining who I am. Who I want to have sex with in no way defines me. My body in no way defines me. My actions and thoughts are always evolving and growing with my newly acquired knowledge. My past has made me who I am today but it doesn’t define me and shouldn’t have any label put on it. I’m just a human being trying to navigate through all the crap everyone else seems to be making up to complicate and divide us.
I would quite honestly just like to disappear into some endless forest to never be seen again. I was born into a century I don’t identify with though and therefore I feel like I must try to get along with people. I do like people but as a species we make these insane choices to hate and fear and oppress others that are different. It is a choice me make every time we meet somebody unlike us. I’m just a poor broken down socialist living in my grandmas old room and with all my problems why would I choose to hate somebody for being transgender? Why? What purpose would it serve to hate some dude for finding me attractive? I don’t choose to be offended or flattered or anything because it doesn’t matter to me and he can’t help it. I like a wide variety of women. My tastes vary quite a lot. That has offended people knowing that. They felt hurt that they weren’t my type. They weren’t happy that I was just into them no matter what and that to me is just a silly thing. I’m just wired in a way that makes me more comfortable with a person’s personality and not their hair color or eye color.
People need to be this way with everyone up until the point of who you decide you’re going to have consensual sex with. Outside of the bedroom or wherever you have sex, who we have sex with in no way defines us. I’ve been judged by so called friends and even family for shit they really knew nothing about and was none of their business anyway. I’m a straight single male on the “normal” side of things and I get judged. I can’t imagine what a young gay man must go through. It’s a very brave thing coming out of the closet to a world full of mean spirited assholes.
All we should be doing for people is doing everything we can to make life easier for them. Build unisex bathrooms and educate people and be kind and listen. Is it really that crazy to just be nice and make the choice to be cool about things you can’t relate to? Think it over a bit.
I started writing again two years ago today on the advice of a Facebook friend I found on Craigslist and never met in person. It’s funny how often people come and go out of our lives and what a huge influence they can make and how easily their names are forgotten. Any stranger on any day can set us on a path we never expected. That lady also got me back into photography and in doing so introduced me to many new friends and adventures. I hope her name comes back to me someday so I can thank her.
I recommend everybody slow down their lives by discovering a way to express themselves. You can write or draw or paint or photograph or sculpt it doesn’t matter. In finding your expressive medium you slow things down and find yourself in introspection. I believe I’ve found the hope and empathy I had as a youth in writing and photography. For a long time I quit caring and said fuck it dude. I saw and heard nothing but negativity from the news and coworkers and as an introvert I kept quiet and just gave up on people because I didn’t have a voice. On my class ring there’s a picture of the planet and the inscription “Ours to save”. I lost sight of that over years of frustration in not having a voice for my views or ideas and the inability to share what I love with my friends. Thanks to a kind strangers advice I got that back and I can forward on the advice to whoever reads this. You can live your life through memes and quickly scrolling through Facebook posts looking for things that catch your eye or binge watching shows and making them your livelihood, but what are you really learning about yourself and the people around you in doing so? There aren’t are any lessons in car selfies or Game of Thrones. It’s just killing time and a cheap way to do it. There isn’t any connection to humanity and nature through that path in life. That aren’t any new discoveries about your life except which filter makes you look cute or who shows their boobs or gets killed in the next season. It’s an empty forgetful life to live. If you create something that shows the world who you are and what you stand for besides your cute dog face then that’s something you and others can learn from and do something with. That’s what I’ve gotten from two years of blogging and my photography. I feel like I have a voice and that it matters and I know people listen. I just need to remember that lady’s name.