Your Favorite Kind of Fuckboy.

Let's start this post by clearing up exactly what the term "Fuckboy" even means. I just looked it up to see if the meaning has changed since the last time that I did, and what do you know - it did. When I first looked it up, it meant essentially a modern day "playa". Currently, it reads as the worst kind of man imaginable. A guy that represents the worst trends and "isn't bout shit."

My definition of Fuckboy is kind of a mix between the two. To me, a fuckboy is a guy who plays games and doesn't want a relationship or anything, but doesn't make it clear with any of the, for lack of a better word, hoes or bimbos that all he's up for is fucking. Me, I'm the cool kind of fuckboy. In my opinion, I'm the kind of Fuckboy that people WISH they had. I won't quote the title, but I'm the best kind of Fuckboy there could be.

I'm the kind of Fuckboy doesn't play games. I'm not into them. I'm at the point in my life where I don't want to play them. Not that I ever really had, and seeing the games be played doesn't make me want to play them any more so. Even when I was young I never really dated; I was always quick to get into a relationship (not that I was in very many relationships) because I knew I liked this person, so why am I holding off on making them mine? I've come to learn that that is not something that you rush, but I don't want to play games.

Playing games requires a lot of extra work and frustrations AND time. All of which either isn't worth it or I don't have. I realize that it can be very hard to not play games. The whole wait three day rule game, or see who will text who first. Trust me, I get how sometimes these games can seem like they will provide you with an answer, but all it will do it drive your brain insane and fuel anger. How will the other person know they're involved in a game? You're essentially setting them up for failure! And then on top of that, you're going to be blaming them for a failure they didn't even know was being committed! Ergo, I don't play games.

I'm the best kind of fuckboy because I'm honest. Most of the other fuckboys that exist don't. They manipulate, cheat, and deceive. Now I'm not saying I'm a saint because that is FAR from the truth. I'm just saying that I'll be real with you. Part of my new year's resolution to myself was to start being honest. I was tired of always lying to cover things up and to protect feelings. I've learned better. You can't always protect people's feelings; however, you can save them a lot of turmoil by just being honest.

If I don't like you, I'm going to make it very apparent to you. I'm not going to feed you false comments and pretend. If I don't like you, I will either straight out tell you, or be sarcastic about it. If I solely just want to have sex with you, I will be as apparent as I can be. I will flirt, I will take off clothes, and I will grab. I won't play the texting game with you and nor will I chase you down to figure out what time of day will work. If you want to play the game of someone chasing after you, then play it elsewhere because I don't want to play.

I know what my schedule is like and I can make pretty accurate guesses about things that happen around me. I don't believe anyone to have a busier schedule than I, unless you've got two or three little tots at home. I will not chase you down and I will not text you everyday to see if you're available. I will try three times at most, but then I'm done. If you've blown me off three times in a row, then fuck it. I've been told that if you're chasing someone and they don't chase you back, then they aren't worth your time. I'm really starting to see it.

It isn't a cocky thing either, it is just knowing what you're worth. Evidently I'm a pretty damn good looking guy, at least that's what people keep telling me, so why would I keep chasing someone who doesn't set aside time for me?! Honestly, fuck that! I'll find someone else who has their life in a better grip to fuck with. Sorry bout it.

Thirdly, if I want to be with you, I will fucking let you know. I don't think I've ever had an experience quite like this before. Where I know that I am not ready for a relationship, yet I want to spend my time with one particular guy. I had a bit of a hookup with this other guy who was very nice and he seemed to think that I was very taken by him. I told him flat out that that was not the case. He was a nice guy and all, but I have just my eyes set somewhere else. And I've told a multitude of people that. If I like you, I will let you know! This guy who I do feel very taken by, started out as just a very good friendship. (For the most part) We had great sex and I always had such a great time being around him. Skipping over a lot of bs, I find myself to now where I very much like him and I've straight out told him. I was leaving his house one day and I was very annoyed with how the morning was going, so I told him. I turned around and told him that I wanted to date him. I don't want to be his friend, nor do I want to be someone he just plays with. I want to know that this is going somewhere and I am not just getting angry and putting thought and emotion into something that will be going nowhere.

Like I said above, I don't have the time nor the patience for bs. I don't want to play games and I don't want to beat around the bush. I know what I want in my life right now. People who don't know what they want as of right now need to stay the fuck out of my way. Or don't, but I'll tell you what I want and you can take it from there.

It's not me being a dick, it's just me controlling my life. If you're being an idiot, I'll let you know. If you're saying something stupid, I'll let you know. If I think you're good looking I'll let you know. If I want to have sex, I will let you know. If I want something more, I will let you know. All I ask in return is that you be honest with me and you let me know how you feel. If you don't want to be with me, let me know. If you don't want to have sex, let me know. If you're not interested in me, just let me fucking know.

Be transparent. Be real. I promise I won't be too mad at you. Initially I will be a little annoyed, but at least I won't be wondering what the fuck is going on! I'll do you that favor, so just give it back. Most people WISH they had that! I'm the best kind of fuckboy. *Drops Mic*

Young. Wild. Free.

Wow. My last post was back in October of 2015. It was on How To Get Away With Murder. I remember first coming across that show whilst searching up Alfred Enoch. He played Dean Martin in the Harry Potter movies, he was the only black kid. He becomes more relevant in the movies when he dates Ginny in Half Blood Prince, but he doesn't get more relevant than that. But I digress.

I remember searching him up to see where all the characters had gone off to and seen that he had starred in this show. Then, me and Kyle were looking for a new show to watch and then we came across it and we started to watch it together. We were hooked. Binge watched the whole first season in a week. Then we fan girled over it and other shows for a couple of weeks until they all ended. God, it feels so long ago.

I know what I want to say in this post. I know the story I want to tell. I know the feelings I want to express. What I hope this will do is... honestly. I really don't know. I hope it makes me feel better. Makes me feel stronger. More hopeful. More free. I've got my cup of tea. Grab yours and maybe a cup of Joe, too. This is going to be a long and bumpy story.

Around the same time as this post, I remember we had one of our biggest fights. I never thought I'd have a fight this big. I remember even thinking that I was such a tolerant person that I couldn't possibly get into huge fights. Then this happened. The fight of no return.

It was around Halloween time and we had planned to go to Mazilla. Mazilla is this corn field out in the poconos that people turn into a maze and create landmarks through the maize for people to find and mark. Actually loads of fun. That day, Kyle had mentioned that there was a house that was being forclosed and his client only deals with foreclosures that get fixed up and he wanted to check it out. Ultimately, he had planned that if he liked how it looked when it was fixed up that he would want to buy it and live there and then sell it and flip it years down the road.

For as long as I've known Kyle, he has always loved looking at and admiring houses. He's always talked about buying houses and other people buying houses and his entire family even talk about it. Shit, everytime his sisters came over, they would constantly tell him how good he's doing for himself and how he should just buy a house. This was something has always intimidated me. Looking back, I think my mistake was not addressing it then.

So, we go to see this house. Driving, this place was probably a good ten minutes from our apartment. From what I remember, it wasn't a bad looking place. Not great, but it had potential. Good space, reasonably sized yard, and it had the place had cupholders. I kid, I kid. It didn't have cupholders. (Deal breaker)

He loved the idea of this place. I think he had had his mind pretty well set before even going and then this was kind of icing on the cake. It had seemed so easy to him. He had a whole speech ready for me about how we were going to afford it, what it would do for us in the long run, etc. What he couldn't give me, we're the answers I wanted. Even more so, he couldn't get me to meet his point of view. If there could have been one defining moment of change, this was it.

At this point, I could no longer sugar coat anything. I had to make sure that I got my point across and that I got it across, firmly. I wasn't going to be pushed into doing something I didn't want to do, especially not something as big as this. Buying a house is a HUGE thing to do. Someone that I, being only 18 at the time, didn't want ANY part in. Shit, at that point, I didn't even have a car! I couldn't even afford a car payment or even insurance let alone a mortgage, or god forbid anything major went wrong with the house.

He asked me what I thought about his idea to buy it and flip it years down the road. At the first chance I got, I told him no. I had zero interest in this investment and there was not any room for compromise on the matter. First off, the place had been too far for me to really navigate. I was very fortunate that our apartment was about a mile down the road from campus, so I was able to walk to school. I was also very fortunate that the buses ran right in the vicinity of where I needed them to. This place, was not as feasible.

This place had been about another two miles from where we lived, ergo, another 3 from campus and 2 from the nearest bus stop. Kyle couldn't understand what that meant for me because he had a car. He could afford this move because getting around wasn't an issue for him, that and he makes more money than I do. However, he wouldn't have had the same problems as I, and he just wasn't seeing that. Nonetheless, it didn't matter to me whether he saw my point of view or not. My mind was made up, and it wasn't going to change.

After that discussion, we left to go for Mazilla. In that drive, I could tell the entire mood of the day had changed. He had been upset that I did not like his idea and that I didn't want to move. It had seemed that he had had so much faith that I wouldn't disagree with him and he'd be calling up his client to spread the news that he hadn't considered me saying "no". Everytime I had tried to hold a conversation with him, it was like talking to someone who was peeved at you. One word answers and pouting. I remember asking if he was okay, and of course he answers, "Yup, I'm fine." As if that ever means what it is supposed to, but I just let him deal with his feelings and decided not to push him into talking.

The whole evening at Mazilla, I got increasingly more frustrated with him because of this attitude he carried since the house viewing. He wouldn't want me to touch him, didn't want to talk to me, wouldn't listen to me, or even let me take the lead. He would sprint off into one direction and go, so after a while, I let him go. I let him go off into a direction and I went off into my own. The competitive part of me wants to admit that I found two or three landmarks while on my own and he hadn't found any. (Enter applause  emoji) Eventually, we linked back up, however, his attitude hadn't changed. He continued to sprint ahead without my discretion, until I forced him by intentionally leaving in a separate direction.

Two hours and a piss in the maize later, he pulls me aside in the middle of the maize and finally speaks up. He admits that he had been frustrated this entire time because of what I told him back at the house. He told me that he had saw such a great investment there and it would pave the way for us in the future. He had said that he had our best interests at hand, and that this would work out if I just listened to him.

I knew this had been coming, and I knew exactly what I had to do. My mind had not changed or even varied in the slightest in the hours we spent in the maze, and evidently neither did his. I had expressed to him once more that I didn't like the idea and that I didn't want to do it. The place is too far from civilization for me and is not feasible for me to get around, I didn't want him taking on most of the bills because I couldn't afford them, and I didn't want to be burdened by that much responsibility at such a young age. To me, we hadn't even been in our place long! At that point, we had lived there for 8 months! I hadn't even gotten the chance to fully enjoy living there. I LOVED being in that apartment,  and I was not ready to move by any means.

He continued to try and persuade me and feed me lines about how he was thinking about our future and how this would make it so much easier for us. At this point, I had started to get thoroughly upset because it had seemed like he hadn't even been listening to me. It was like talking to a bigot; only seeing one side no matter what. I had to get my point across. I needed to let him know that I meant what I said and that this wasn't something that I wanted to do. I knew what I had to tell him. Best part was that it wasn't bullshit. It was me speaking total truth.

I told him, "I can't make you do anything. At the end of the day, you are a big boy, and you are going to do whatever you want to do. But with that said, if you buy this house, it will be your house, and I will not be living in it." His face stood there astonished by what I said. What was probably a 20 second stare seemed like an hour, and he asked me if I was serious and I told him yes. Right at my response, he told me that he thought my thought process was stupid and immediately stormed off in the opposite direction and I couldn't even chase him. I stood there for a second and then I tried to find him, but I had lost him in the maize. I was so frustrated at this point, I don't even remember wanting to find him. I found the last two landmarks and then exited the maze.

Once I left, I sought him out to try to try to talk to him, but he wasn't having it. He continued to storm off and I met him at the car. At this point, I had had it. I tried to talk to him, but he didn't want to talk. I tried to be honest, but he didn't care. I tried to consider his feelings, but he didnt consider mine. I tried to be reasonable, but he chose not to be.

The car rise was quiet almost the entire way. I told him I didn't want to go to dinner, but he took us anyways. There, I didn't say a word to him. Shit, I couldn't even look at him. I was so infuriated by him, and him forcing me to go to dinner after I said I didn't want to was a slap in the face to me. I believe he tried to reach for my hand and then I snatched it away. If I remember right, he tried to have some type of conversation, but I was over it. I paid the bill, he drove us home, and I slept on the couch without saying good night. He didn't eve try to stop me. Rule number 10 of the love rules had been broken, and I didn't care.

The next morning, was quiet. Neither of us spoke to each other for the first hour and then he sat next to me. He grabbed my hand to hold it and I had snatched it away. I was still very furious with him. He hadn't considered my feelings. He called them stupid. He had hurt my feelings. I remember my mom telling me when I was younger to get used to getting my feelings hurt because it was going to happen a lot. That may be inevitable,  but it will be avoidable when it is possible and it will be enforced. The moment he had did that, was one of the moments he lost me in.

After I snatched my hand away, he rolled his eyes and walked away without further effort. With that, he got in the shower and my manager had reluctantly called me in early. With that, I got dressed and left without goodbye. Kyle expressed that that had been wrong of me, but I told him contrary. I felt as though he had not even began to truly try and I expressed that. I think that day was one of the many times I had actually believed I was going to have to break up with him.

Later that night, I believe we had actually had the conversation about what happened. He expressed that he wanted to move into a bigger place, meanwhile, in more words than I shouldbhave, I admitted that I had doubts in our relationship. I remember the amount of times that I would just walk out onto the balcony in the middle of the night contemplating how I truly felt about our relationship. How he made me feel. If we had been right for each other. What I would and should do. This fight had been something almost defining for me, and it was time I spoke on it.

He wasn't happy about it, but I don't think that he had taken me seriously. We had said that we would try to do better. I told him to stop rushing a move and he told me we had to plan something soon. So we compromised. If our neighbor had moved, we would take that apartment. It had been a lot bigger and only $25 more expensive. At the time, I thought this had been a perfect compromise because it wouldn't be further, wouldn't have been any more expensive, and it couldn't be for some time. Or at least I thought. I told you this ride was going to be bumpy. Remember that boiling hot cup of Joe? Grab it because it's about to get real cold in here.

Two months later, Kyle texts me while I was at work. At this point, I had been having even stronger doubts about our relationship and I had even expressed it to some of my closest friends and told them what it might even mean. It was amazing the feeling that this text brought me. I opened it and it said that he had great news for me. He didn't even need to tell me. I looked up at my friend (one of my coworkers at the time) and I told her. I told her that he had good news for me and that I knew what it was. It was the beginning of December and the year was coming to a close. I never thought this text would come this soon. I had been banking on the fact that it wouldn't, but it did. Our neighbor had decided he was going to move and that the apartment was up for rent. My heart had dropped.

I remember telling Kyle to just give me time to think about it, and he had been confused because he thought we had agreed, but said okay. Little did he know, I didn't need time to think about buying the apartment, I needed time to assess what it was that I was going to do next.

Maybe a week passes by, and I remember just feeling different the entire time. I had no patience. For anything. I didn't want to be bothere,. I had been angry all the time, and I felt trapped. I was a dick to Kyle and I made no effort in trying to hide it. I had become very blunt and less considerate as time grew on. The end was coming.

I remember being at work debating about what I was going to do. I knew I had to break up with him soon. I couldn't go into a new place and a new lease with the amount of doubts I had. I couldn't go another day of hiding my frustrations and going on the way I was. I had to break up with him while we were still on a good note and before I did something I'd regret. It sucked to have to ruin the holidays, but it had to be done.

I asked one of my coworkers how he had broken up with his ex-girlfriend hoping for good advice. It turned out that she was a bitch and he told her to fuck off. Not very helpful to my situation. Then another coworker came over while I was talking to the other guy. The sane guy I work was talking to had asked why I had asked and I had told the both of them that I had been planning to break up with Kyle. Me and the girl had walked over to where it was just me and her and I continued to talk to no prevail. I remember just talking about what I was going to do. Talking about how I needed to do what had to be done because if I didn't, we'd just end up hating each other. I had gotten about two sentences in and I started reminiscing. It had been amazing. The whole night I  had been scared and angry, but in that moment all of it relinquished to pain, distraught, and sorrow. I couldn't fight back the memories or the tears that came with them. I had remembered our first date at Chili's, the night I asked him to be my boyfriend, the beach trips, our move into the apartment, everything. It had all seemed to hit me like a wave hitting footprints in the sand and washing them away. That night, I broke up with Kyle.

We cried. A lot. I never thought I could hurt that bad. Or even hurt in that kind of way. I had always imagined that people had been exaggerating those feelings. This was no exaggeration. Nothing about this had been fake. None of this had been easy. In those 24 hours, i had to make one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make in my life.

We had lived together for another two and a half weeks before Kyle had moved out. Those two and a half weeks had to be the most aggravating and stressful points in our relationship of knowing each other. He had not made it easy. I believe knew he had just needed space, which was very hard to do with us living in a one bedroom apartment. He predominantly stayed in the bedroom and I stayed predominantly in the living room. He slept in the bedroom and I slept on the couch. I tried to have conversations with him and tried to make sure he was okay, but he shut me out. Any time I had tried to talk to him, it had been one word answers or frustration and anger out of him. He only talked to me when he wanted something. It was only ever about splitting up possessions or sex, and it was enough to push me over the edge. He had finally moved out and we had another big boy talk resulting in a major key in our relationship: "it isn't about what you think you did, it's about what the other person felt you did." I stressed a major point on feelings. My feelings have always been of dire importance to me. They make me who I am and I am going to protect that.

As we rolled into the new year, I had intended to make this year count for something real to me. This was my first year that I had been single, living on my own, going to school, working, and being out of the closet. This is the first year that I've had to depend solely on myself. The very first year in my life where I am my own parent and my own best friend. When Kyle gave me his key to my apartment, that was the moment that introduced a new beginning for me. I had an apartment to refurbish, a life to restart, and new experiences to discover.

Currently, I am doing very well for myself. I still live in the same apartment, by myself, and going through each motion as it is presented to me. I have made it through the first couple of weeks at school and I am receiving my license for a new job that I will be starting very soon. I have been going on a couple of dates here and there, but nothing too heavy. There's even a guy who I've developed pretty big feelings about and I'm trying to decipher them and keep them at bay. I don't want to be in a relationship for a while. Right now, I want to date, have experiences at my leisure, work, meet people, etc. This year is all about redefining who I am as a person, as a young adult. This year is all about good times and good vibes. This year is all about making things happen. This year, I will be YOUNG. WILD. AND FREE.

~Be Breezy!~

GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!

I'm sick of being here I can't take it anymore! I feel like I'm wasting my time. Nothing here seems important. I could be out working or meeting new people or even working on music! I could be doing something productive to help get me closer to figuring out my future. What am I talking about? What Is this hell hole I speak of? I call it jail, but most others refer to it as high school.

I'm in my senior year of high school and I'm just done with it! There's nothing really going on. We're bot really doing anything where It's like we can't graduate or anything, so I guess that's what makes it seem like nothing. I'm not even there for long. I have to get up WAY too early to just go for two chore classes and two Bullshit classes. I probably wouldn't feel as bad about it if I had classes that I took a lot of interest in. In my previous years, I've taken all the music classes and now all I'm left with is piano which I've had three times. I would just like to leave and figure what I want to do for the rest of my life and be on my way!

Maybe if I had some people to really interact with, but I don't. Now I'm a big people person and can make friends anywhere, anyhow. The problem comes forth where I feel I can't connect with everyone. I like to be crazy and wild, but yet very mature and steady. I like to make dark jokes that go waayyy too far, but like civilized mature conversation. This explains why most of my friends lately have been older, I just connect with them better. They aren't caught up with kiddy drama or anything, just talk.

Most of the kids nowadays are so caught up in being ghetto and loud and other stupid shit. Otherwise, they are uppity and I just don't relate to them. Outside of school, I have a wider variety of people to talk to and meet, while in school, I'm stuck with what I got for 180 days...

I think if I had that group of friends I could connect and hang with, it wouldn't be so bad. I lost that group of friends when I became a junior and later a senior. All of my friends moved on to college and/or are doing their own thing. Meanwhile, I'm stuck here with the group of people I never really connected with and forced to deal with it. Now I'm stuck with all the annoying, immature athletes in my class and the whiney, uppity girls that surround them.

But that'd what I've got for now. I've just got to keep trucking until June and then I'm out of here! Thanks for reading and sorry this wasn't really a gay oriented post. The next one definetly will be. How everyone had a great day!

Everything is gay

So I'm in target right now and I was just browsing around and I walk upon the book section. I had been telling myself for a while that I wanted to get myself into more reading. It just seems distinguishing, fun, and relaxing. But if I were to start reading, it would have to be something I'm interested in. Only one thing comes to mind... A little while ago I was searching for books to read and again, only one thing of interest came to mind.

A little while ago I wrote a post called Why is it always the gay where I explained how everything bad that happens to me I happen to blame on being gay. I think I found a little bit of an answer to that. I think It's more than just I'm blaming my bad luck on my homosexuality, the only thing I'm really interested in is homosexuality! Everywhere I go, that is the main thing on my mind. It's almost like I have an obsession with it.

I don't know what it is about being gay. I am just so fathomized by it. The stories on how people figured out who they were. The rejections, the acceptions, the coming process in general! It's one thing that I am attracted to guys and all I can think about is guys, but I feel the need to involve it in my everyday life. The people I watched on YouTube when I was first coming out used to say being gay is just a little piece of you. It is not everything about you. For me It's the opposite! It's a huge part of me! Shapes my character, who I wanna be around, who wants to be around me, my thought process, and my social conversation.

I try not to talk about it a lot because I know a lot of other people don't care nor do they wanna hear about it, but truth is, I love talking about it! I love writing, learning, and reading anything that has to do with it! Not even a lot of gay people like talking about it that much. They feel it is just a little piece that they just glide on over. But me, It's more than just that. It is a huge part of my interests. Like I said, it shapes who I am as a person right now.

Is this a problem? I guess the answer's yes and no. Everyone has their obsession and mines happens to be my sexuality. But I can't let it be everything about me because that's how you turn people away. If some people don't want to hear it, I just have to respect that and move on. But it is an interest of mine and it's fine that I like to read and learn about it! It shows passion and drive! This could even be a sign of me brig a future activist! Who knows?!

Anyways, thanks for reading. Just thought I'd post a thought while I wad waiting for my shift to start and meanwhile it did kill a little time, I still got another 51 minutes... Shoot me..

Pride

Pride. The feeling of pleasure in one's own achievements. To feel proud of one's self. Today, I am missing the pride parade in New York City. While everyone one is out partaking in this celebration of who they are, I am staying home in the closet baby sitting and working. It really upsets me to be missing this celebration because we have even more to celebrate! The Defense of Marriage Act was named unconstitutional and marriage equality is now brought into California. So not only do we get the chance to celebrate who we are, we get to celebrate another step closer to true equality. But going to pride is a lot more than just a celebration to me. For me, it goes much deeper than that.

I am closeted at home. So I have no way of really being who I am. I can't walk around with rainbows on and throw myself out very flamboyantly. I can't scream out "I'm gay" and feel happy. I won't have that feeling of safety amongst my gay community. I won't have that feeling of community around me.

At the parade, I could hang out with my cousins and rejoice in celebration. I could wear my rainbow suspenders and bandana with pride. I can kiss another guy in pure happiness without having to fear anything. I can dance to all the music that's playing. I could feel safe amongst my gay family. I could mingle amongst more gay people and make some longtime friends.

For me, pride is an opportunity to be as flamboyant as I want and wear as many rainbows as I can without feeling self conscious. It is a place to feel like I belong somewhere. Out here, I don't have that feeling. I don't have many gay friends and I don't like wearing my rainbows all the time because I feel as though I'm throwing it out there. Pride is my opportunity to be proud if who I am, which isn't always easy to do.

I just recently started being able to admit that I like bears. Before, I thought it was something i had to hide. I was ashamed of it. I felt like I couldn't tell anyone because I wasn't ok with it... But now I have started taking pride into that part of me. I have learned that it was ok to like other bears and that there are others like me. This is something to celebrate. The ability to feel happy about who I am.

Over all, I hope everyone has a great time at the pride parade. I wish I could take part in the celebration, but things just didn't seem to work out in that way. Thanks for reading! Happy pride!

Cub Vs. Guy Talk

You know that conversation that you have with your group of friends about how she looks cute? Or in girls' cases, he looks cute. Or how your friends talk about how they'd like to fuck this person in this position and run your toungue all over. That's what I'm talking about. Now, I'm calling it guy talk because I'm a guy and my issue mainly deals with guys. Not to say that females don't do this, because they probably do, I'm just more familiar with my bros doing it.

Every guy does this. They get comfortable and get raunchy. Which is fine! We all have sex, it ain't nothin to hide! We all masturbate; again, nothing to hide! And guys have thrown away their shame behind these mannerisms and just decide to be open about them. When he says how he'd like to fuck her in that hole with his finger here, he knows someone else was gonna say it anyways or they were gonna say it about somebody else.

My issue with this is when It's my turn. I have a lot of guy friends, most of which are straight. I don't mind you guy talking with me! Shit, I'll probably gas it up and join in! But when I start guy talking, I expect the same! I hate how I'm generous enough to listen and tag along in your guy talk and you dismiss mines! What, I can't be open about my sex life? Or lack of...

In this gay-themed movie called "Weekend", one of the main characters brings this up. He says how people are ignorant about what we do because we don't talk about it. And if they (straight people) get to be open about their sex, why can't we?! That's society's way of oppressing us. So with that, we should be open about our sex!

Now, I'm not too comfortable talking about me getting fucked or fucking him or anything like that, but I expect guys to be ready to listen ad I've listened to them. Just like one of my friends. He loves to talk about how he talks to all these girls and he never once asks me about how I am with guys. He never even considers it, and when I'm ready to talk about it, he has nothing to contribute to conversation! I understand that he is not too accepting about guys dating guys, but It's called being considerate. If I have to listen to you go in about girls, then you have to listen to me go on about guys!

This is kind of a short post, but It's ok. Feel free to add in your thoughts in the comments. Thanks for reading and I hope everyone has an awesome pride weekend!

Ready, but not set...

Early this morning, I had an outfit I was planning to wear and I needed my mom to sew the shorts for me. So she forgot and said she would have it ready before it was time for me to leave. Finally she came back to me and told me she couldn't do it and it led to a problem of "what can I wear now".

Now, I don't know if I have a particular problem when it comes to choosing what to wear, but sometimes I just can't. I can't just throw on anything. It has to be perfect for the day almost. If it is warm outside, I can't just throw on any t-shirt and jeans or shorts... It's gotta be the right ones. My family hates helping me pick out what to wear because of this problem. But I don't think they fully understand the extent to which it bothers me.

If I put on something I feel is not right, it physically bugs me. Physically, i will feel wierd, as if I am not myself. And the mental aspect of me will let me feel every second of it. I will be non-stop thinking about how I look and what people will think of me while I'm wearing it; and I never really imagine them saying nice things. In the midst of me ironing my clothes coping with what I settled with wearing, I always think back to what else I could wear that could possibly be better;and then once I've found it, I run downstairs and grab the new stuff! Even though I have no time! It really bugs me and they just don't understand...

I know you're wondering, "what does this have to do with being gay?" Other then the fact of me having a stereotypical fashion sense.. while I was looking for that right outfit for today after she shot the idea of my first choice, she started criticizing all of the clothes I wear. How they're "too tight" or I always have to dress so "flamboyantly". I told her I simply like the style of it, It's just my sense of fashion and people seem to like it. Her response was, "Do you know who dresses like that? Gay people."

Obviously after this comment you can infer that my parents are homophobic. So my response was, for once, "I don't care!" I would never say that to comments like those to my parents because that would lead them to infer that I was gay. They can't know because that puts me and my future at risk. My dad has said since day one that he will not accept homosexual "behavior" in this house and if we think we're grown enough to make that "decision" then we are obviously grown enough toive on our own. I have worked way to hard in school and through life to throw it all away.

Another reason this puts me at risk is my safety. My sister insists I don't tell my dad in person because he might lose control. She thinks he just might kill me. Now I don't know if this is true, but I'm not gonna risk it. So saying this to my mom was a huge thing.

I hate having to lie about who I am. I want to be open and truthful about who I am because I am not ashamed of it. I wanna be able to wear my rainbow suspenders while leaving the house or not have to worry about my mom stumbling upon my rainbow bandana or suspenders. I don't want it to be a shock when I bring home a guy. I hate having to whisper about it and refer to it as the thing when my parents are around. It is simply ridiculous.

This is also why I don't have a problem with going to school. In school, I don't have to hide behind that closet door, as much. People don't know about the whole best community thing, but they know I'm gay so I don't have to worry about anything like that! I can freely say boyfriend or wear rainbows or even dress flamboyantly because it will be accepted and will kind of be expected.

But even though they understand the gay aspect of me, my school has yet to fully understand the bear aspect of me. I still hide behind the leaves that cover my tracks into the cave of bears. I hate having to hide and feel ashamed of that part of me because that is one of my favorite parts about me. I love the bear community and hate having to hide my love for it; but I am getting better. I hashtag gay bear and cub on instagram and people have found out through there or I have my favorite bear community photos on my lock screen and it shoots random photos so it is kind of sprung upon people.

But here's where the not set part comes into play. I want to come out from behind the closet doors, but if I do, I must be sure in who I am. Like I said in a previous post, I'm not exactly 100% sure I am gay. Sometimes I question it, other times I am sure. I never feel sexually attracted to a girl other then just wanting to hold them or kiss them, but it goes further with men. I want to hold, kiss, caress, cuddle, have sex with, etc.

I don't want to come out and then all of a sudden jump back in what I'm saying and figure out I'm straight and was just confused as a child. Or bisexual and just wasn't accepting it. That would give my parents and all those who think It's a decision a satisfaction I don't want them to have. That would hive them the opening they have been waiting for ti say, "see I told you you could change" or "I told you you weren't gay, and now that you have probably caught something, you wanna switch back."

I won't let them have it. That is why I must be sure first. I kind if fucked myself over in school because I came out as gay before ever really being 100% sure and now I can't go back on what I said if I am not sure. If I am all of a sudden attracted to some girl, I can't chase after her without someone questioning her or me, and I am just not ready or strong enough to deal with that yet.

I thought when I started getting more mature I wasn't gonna have to play hide and seek anymore. It was fun as a child, but the fun has faded and I'm ready to play man hunt... The society that surrounds me has kept me in this bind for 16 years going on 17, and I don't know how much longer this cub can hold it. Thanks for reading and I hope everyone has a great memorial day weekend!

~Be Breezy!~

Flamboyance vs. Ignorance

Sorry about my last post being so personal. It was just something I really needed to get out and acknowledge in a format as such I did. But without further ado, the topic of flamboyance!

This is something that overly irritates me. And It's not the flamboyant guys, It's the ignorant people around them. This first came up because of this kid in my school. So this kid in my school is VERY flamboyant. This guy dies it and he does it well! *insert snaps here* he wears heels to school and leggings and the tightest of jeans. He wears the cut off shirts, long hair to be flipped with attitude, make up to keep him looking fierce, and tops it off with a bag that he struts down the hallways with as if they were runways.

This guy is obviously gay, and with that, very flamboyant. People are not too fond of this. People have everything to say about him wearing all of this make up and girl's clothing, but never to his face. I'm glad they don't say it to his face or anything, I'd hate for him to get hurt, cause I would be the first there to defend him! Not that he couldn't defend himself, I'm sure he carries around his own pocket sized bottle if mace in his bag.

All jokes aside, I asked him one day where does he get his strength to do this and what goes through his mind when he puts this stuff in. He told me, " The only thing that goes through my mind is if I look good!" He said no one bugs him so he doesn't care. I'm glad that he finds the strength to be him and sees nothing wrong with it.

As for the people around him, they should be ashamed. Every so often in class, my group of friends in the back have something to say about what he's wearing or how he acts. They always say stuff like how he looks ridiculous and how they hates gays like that. The part that annoyed me the most was when they said, "I couldn't be friends with someone like that." They would always end with I'm fine with gays like you and indigo, but when they start acting like that, I can't.

I was completely furious! I was completely stupified! But I can't wait for the next time someone says it. Because what if that were me. Would they simply disown me as a friend just because of what I'm wearing on the outside? Are they seriously that shallow? What if I was the same exact person on the inside? They would never even give me a chance solely because I chose to dress that way.

I feel bad for the men that feel more comfortable expressing themselves in this manner. All they receive is ill-made judgements and never really get a fair chance at life just because they don't "fit" society's definition if his a man should be. They may never be given a fair shot because no one will even acknowledge their presence in public.

As young children, we are taught that it is the inside that is important, not the outside. So why not carry that aspect here? Because you are scared of what people will think? What will they say?! You were talking to that gay guy, so you must be gay. Oh, they going to jail now! All jokes aside, fuck that! All you have to do is say no and move the fuck on! After you have made your point, It's over. If they choose to further the conversation with you being gay, then they might have a few issues or secrets of their own to be focusing so much on that aspect.

It's just like how things were before Martin Luther King Jr. came upon his activism. How if you were seen associating with a black person, you were trash too. Well, if most people haven't noticed, we're in 2013. We don't discriminate in that manner anymore. Plus, dressing like that does nkt even necessarily even make you gay! Look at prince and Michael Jackson! Stop being so judgmental on how people are on the outside and worry about yourself.

Society has really put a bind on these people. It has really left people scared to be themselves, but no longer shall I stand for it. Next time I hear someone make ignorant comments such as those I heard that day, the commenters will feel very ashamed at the end of it. Society, you've just been challenged, and this gay cub is ready to rumble! Bring on round 2!!!

~Be Breezy!~

Why is it always the gay?

Ok, so this is more of an internal post. This is something really personal about me and something that I have never told anyone aloud. Frankly, this will be the first time I'm even admitting to it or even giving it some acknowledgence... It's something I've done all my life, and it always keeps me in a bind. Most of us blame society, I blame myself for everything.

This is my internal problem. I blame every bad thing that happens to me solely on the fact of me being gay. I just failed my test, all because I couldn't focus and all I could think about was being gay and men. I feel upset one day, must be the gay in me tearing me down. I don't want to walk to the other side of the classroom, why? Because I'm gay and everyone will talk about me behind my back because I am. Why don't I like hanging out with certain people, because I don't want to burden them with my gay.

It starts weighing down on me and almost giving me low self-esteem. I feel almost less than. I feel as though I don't belong and all I can say is because I'm gay.

Why? Why is that always my excuse? I feel like part of me does it because of all the stories I've heard about the internalized hate people had for themselbes for being gay and I felt I had to do the same to be gay. I felt like I got off easy in my coming out. I always pretty much knew since I was exposed to porn at a very young age. I knew I liked boys and eventually came to figure out that meant gay. The worst part about my coming out process might have been the lies. Beyond that, I wasn't bullied, I didn't have bad any reactions (so far), and I never went through any real self harm.

I know people are ok with me being gay, but somehow my mind always takes me back there. I'm always thinking the worst of things in advance. I dream about the moments where I get jumped for being gay or be involved in a hate crime. I feel like sometimes, it gives me happiness but also something to blame my issues on.

This is a short post being that I don't really know internally what is going on, but I know something is wrong. A clear sign was when I got drunk about two months ago when my parents weren't here and I told my friend I wanted to get drunk. People always say in the moments you are dunk, you are the most truthful. Well my truth came out, and I had bottled a lot in at that point... Still am. I was bottling up anger, frustration, loneliness, self-esteem issues, and questions of who I am. So in the midst of me being drunk, I noticed my friend walked away from me for a second and caught wind that he was talking to this girl. I knew he didn't have a problem with me or anything, by this time we'd been friends for about 4 or 5 years and he's known I was gay for about 2 or 3, but I was maybe a little jealous AMD emotional. I got overly upset and bursted into tears asking "why am I gay." I hated myself for it, I hated being gay solely because of the loneliness it brought me. I was so hysterically upset I called my sister and cried to her for maybe 10 minutes just repeating saying stuff I didn't think I believed, but would always dream about in my phases of blaming the gay. Finally, I calmed down and I realized this was something that could eventually get out of control.

I can't keep bottling this up... But I don't know who to turn to. I don't want to ask kids in my GSA because I don't lime referring to other kids on matters like these. I don't want to turn to friends because I don't like dumping my problems on people and I don't like being pitied. I don't want to turn to teachers because I don't want to worry anyone or get a reply I'm not ready to hear. And I can't turn to my parents because of my conditions as a closeted teen.

I don't know what to do, but I know something must be done. I can't keep bottling everything all in for it may end up in my drunken emotional breakdown or even worse. I don't know what I will need to make me feel better or even if there is anything truly wrong with me and it may all be in my head... I just don't know... And that's what scares me the most...

Being Left Behind...

We've all felt this. That feeling of everyone else is forming relationships and falling in love, while you're all alone. In high school, the feeling almost consumes you. Seeing couples after couples holding hands and kissing behind the stairwells and even partnering up in class. They are all over you Twitter feeds, instagram feeds, and facebook feeds and even become the topic of conversations. All of that starts to add up.

I never really had a relationship throughout my whole life. I was always the chubby nerdy kid that everyone befriended, but never dated. I was never too interested in girls, so I didn't care about dating them. I would always only fake crushes. But I had my first kind of real relationship the beginning of my sophmore year in high school. I dated this girl for pretty much two weeks. She was my first kiss and then we were over after two weeks. Beyond that, I haven't dated anyone.

I've never dated a guy, and being that I'm gay, I pretty much consider myself never even having a relationship. Now I have a lot of friends and I am very happy for all of them for finding love and finding themselves out. I am in no way mad at them for living their lives; but am I jealous, of FUCKING course.

I hate the fact that they get to date all these different girls and guys and have sexual experiences and go on dates, while I'm at home playing my piano by myself or watching cartoons by myself; anyone else seeing a pattern? They sit there and complain about their relationships and vent, while I sit there in jealousy wishing I could have those experiences.

I can't explore my sexuality, I can't date other guys, see what I like and what I don't; I'm stuck here guessing and fantasizing. Everyone else gets to date and fight and so on, while I sit on the sidelines living through them! I am to listen to my friends talk about the new guy or girl they're talking to and what's going on, while again, I live through them.

I hate it. It's like I'm on a complete different planet; their world keeps spinning and mine keeps tilting and stopping. Every step I take that gets me a little closer to something, then everything stops and I'm back at square one. I can't wait for the moment when I can finally join the race with everyone and find happiness. Right now, society has me on lockdown. Thanks for reading.

~Be Breezy~

Who am I?

This is a question that plagues a lot of us, especially in the LGBT community. Life bring everyone on a unique journey that includes tons of different trials to shape who you are as a person. But as life goes on, do you ever really know who you really are? After all, your life isn't over, so therefore there are experiences that have yet to shape you, which lead us to the question of "who am I?"

I said especially for the LGBT community because there is a whole other side of us that we are to discover, which is very personal and very internal. This question haunts us because it is not something most of us could discover openly and freely. This question is stunted by society. Some people hate LGBT people, therefore putting people in fear of exploring themselves. People fear LGBT people and this fear results in the destruction of the mind.

LGBT people must learn to overcome these factors before they can ever really explore themselves. This is exactly what plagues me. My closet door disallows me to explore myself openly. I have not been able to date any guys because I am not completely open, but also because of the area I am in. I am disassociated with my type of guys which also brings my journey of who I am to a standstill.

But I can not put all the blame of my standstill on my surroundings, because I am partially to blame. I feel as though I came out too early and thus brought me to fear of telling people otherwise who exactly I am. Also, I feel as though I was influenced by what I had been seeing and I wanted to be something that I wasn't and it made it harder for me to except the fact that I wasn't because of the happiness it brought others. With that feeling, I ran and I rushed myself to come out before ever being really sure I was gay. I compared myself to others thinking maybe I was just like them when I had my own story I needed to figure out. I don't know how I feel about women now.

Beforehand, I never was attracted to girls as much as I was guys. I would never search for them on porn sites, imagined them in my sexual fantasies, or wanted to spend the rest of my life with one. I had had a couple of girlfriends when I was younger, but I only did that because of what society had taught me. I didn't even have my first kiss with a girl until my sophmore year in high school, and I was almost completely fine with that.

I had never been sexually aroused by women. The thought of a naked women usually always gave me the shivers. Now, I was exposed to porn at a very young age, so I don't know if that could have done something to my sexual development or what, but I do remember paying a lot more attention to the men in the porn than the women. I was even brought into my first sexual experience at a very young age as well, but I had no idea what I was doing; I just knew I liked it. It was with another young boy around the same age as me. I must have been 6 when we slept in the same bed and he had started touching me and I touched him back and things started going on their own. He was two years older than me, so he probably new more of what was going on than I did. Could that have messed with my sexual development?

I had never had an experience like that with a girl, and just like the kiss, I was completely ok with that. The closest I had ever gotten to a sexual experience with a girl was my first girlfriend back in 6th grade, back when I was ten and I couldn't care less about girls. But I certainly paid guys some attention! Mr and my gf at the time would have pretty much phone sex asking what ifs and what would you do's. Which would then lead on to us hanging up and me going into the shower to go "relieve myself" while thinking about guys.

So with all these experiences and thoughts, you would think It's pretty clear cut that I'm gay, but what about now? Now when I see a pretty girl, I acknowledge she's pretty, look at her ass, and move on. I talk to a lot of pretty girls, flirt a bit, and I get some kind of feeling... But I just can't decipher what this feeling is. I still am disgusted by a naked female, so what is this that I'm feeling? Is it loneliness? Why is it that I feel the need to flirt with girls sometimes and kiss them, when I generally only feel this towards men?

Does this mean I'm bisexual? I don't know, I guess that depends on your meaning behind each sexuality. I personally feel as though sexuality depicts on sexual feelings and love. If you can fall in love with the same sex or opposite sex or both and are physically attracted, you are clear cut gay, straight or bi. So where does that leave me?

There was this theory I heard of where no one is 100% one-sided when it comes to sexuality. That's when the influences started pushing on me that I was gay and somewhere in that spectrum of "in-between". And then I had read Ricky Martin's book where he explains how he could be attracted by a woman, but he could never be with a woman for the rest of his life and I compared that to myself and ran with it. Lastly, I found the depfox family on YouTube and thought, if I was gay, that could be my future and had it set in stone that I was gay.

But is that really who I am? What if those early sexual experiences and exposals had fooled me? What if it had messed me up? I won't even be able to experiment with women now that I am out as a gay man and the fear of taking that back stunts me from exploring a true answer.

This fear will plague me until I move away, which who know when that will be. The fear of coming out again. The fear of saying I was wrong. The fear of looki g stupid because it took me so long to figure out who I am. A fear I can not bare to withstand.

So I am plagued with the question of who am I. Always wondering if I am who people think I am or if I'm somebody else. Always wondering when I will find out or what will be the final journey to give me the answer. Always wondering when I will be able to be confident in who I am and not have to worry about this anymore.

Who had done this to me? My parents? God? My past? Society? Me? Maybe, but I'll find the answer. I just gotta wait out to an opportunity to take another path to another journey. Society got me here, and I let it. Thanks for listening guys, have a great night!

~Be Breezy!~

Locker Room Talk: One of the guys, or one of the girls?

Aaahhh the locker room. The place where everyone reflects on what just happened in gym and the new scoop in school. Now as guys, we love talking about sex. We don't do gossip as much, but got a story about who's getting smashed by who, and everyone's all ears. They may talk about how this girl did this and that in this position and how it felt and everyone laughs and gives the guy his props.

Now, I laugh and listen too, but with every locker room conversation brings to mind the reminder that I'm different. Not only do I feel a little awkward because I can't look at somebody for too long or else someone might say something, but I have to feel different and completely excluded from these conversations. In a big group of guys, of course they wanna talk about their sex lives and such, but of course only if they're straight stories.

This brings to the question that constantly plagues my mind: "Am I one of the guys, or one of the girls?" I always wondered why gay guys might get along with girls more than guys and I can kind of see why. The mutual "locker room talk" about guys. I can't have that conversation with another straight guy without one of us getting a little uncomfortable... And of course, the straight guy is a lot more uncomfortable than I am. With girls, we just pass back and forth which guy is cute or not.

Not only do I get along with girls on a sexual oriented level, but on a fashion level. I could go on for hours about what clothes to wear with what and what new clothing brand and so on. And I can be a little effeminate with it too without being totally judged. Or I could be masculine and still not be judged. With guys, they may not want to talk about it as much, or they may point out the femininity in my voice or something and judge me.

But I connect with guys on another level. I'm not a complete sports guy, but when It's time to play football, I can relate. We can relate on a physical level about certain body functions. They can help me cater to my masculine side without me having to worry about being too rough, and I like getting rough, so they don't have to worry either. (No pun intended)

But there is no great place for me in the locker room. I don't talk about girls, cause um... Yeah, GAY. And I can't get too personal with girls because they don't understand the whole bear/cub thing and that's where judgments get passed. No way to escape it either because it is everywhere... Barbershops, school, classes, gatherings, etc. And every experience can only remind on how I am different.

So am I one of the guys, or one of the girls? Feel free to answer if you have dealt and/or struggled with this. Thanks for listening.

~Be Breezy~

The Girlfriend Talk

Ok, so let's set up the scene. Right now I am a 16 year old closeted teenager living in the house of two old-fashioned African American parents that were born in the 60's. My parents aren't too religious, but they aren't too accepting of the "gay lifestyle". My dad has made it clear to me and my brother since day one that being gay is unacceptable and is ungodly, and if we think we're grown enough to make that "decision", then we were old enough to live on our own. He has yet to say one nice thing about gay people in my sixteen years of life, so you can imagine my fear in telling him.

My mother... Is no different. She was born in the South, which everyone knows is one of the MOST close minded area. With that, she has her faith in god and reads her bible and has it set that gay is ungodly and unacceptable... Do you see why my parents are such a match made in heaven? In all the times being gay or homosexuals have come into conversation, she has usually referred to them as fags. I remember telling her that times have changed and people are more accepting nowadays and her response was, "gays will never be accepted!".

Now I don't want to create this whole bad energy around my parents because they are not awful people; ignorant and arrogant, yes, but not awful. My mom associates with the gay people in my family, but my dad will hardly give them a second look. My dad was tempted to tell his nephew to stay away from me and my brother so he wouldn't try to "influence our thought" or "enforce the gay upon us". So again, you can assume why I stay closeted at home.

But this is different at school. I know my school and peers to be very accepting of gay people. My school has done tons of anti-bullying assemblies and activities and we are all sick of it because we are very well off already. Now just because I say that doesn't mean I know there isn't any, because there is. But I didn't come out in school until last year, the second semester of my sophmore year. By that time, I already was friends with almost the whole student body and everyone had already had their opinions of me, and I knew it wouldn't change. I knew I was the same person regardless and my peers noticed that too when I came out. It gave them a chance to get to know me more and for me to allow them entry into my life.

The problem derrives from the split lives that I live. Kind of like that girl that you see on tv whom's parents are very religious and don't like her wearing certain things, so she keeps extra clothes in her locker or at a friend's house so she can change and lead the life she wants to outside of home. But as we all know, those fronts can only go on for so long. Being that my parents don't know I'm gay, they don't know that I don't like girls. And thus, the problem is revealed!

I hate having to continuously lie to my mother and father about why I don't have or want a girlfriend. Last week I had this modeling even that I was modeling in and my parents have always noticed that I have a lot of pretty girl's around me. So the general question is, why don't you have a girlfriend? What about that pretty girl? Why don't you like her?

I have a brother that is eleven months older than I am, so he is expected to be dating and so on as well. He will bring home girls and my parents enjoy meeting his girlfriends and him talk about he's going out on a date and so forth. But then there is me whom doesn't want a girlfriend, and I have to come up with a lie everytime as to why I don't.

Everytime I think I've defeated their reasonings and questions around this topic, they always come back again. Back when I was dating girls, my parents used to have everything to say about it! And then my sophomore year I purposely allowed my parents witness my kiss with a girl! Just to throw them off my gay trail! And then over the summer I told them I had a different girlfriend and after that I told them I didn't want a girlfriend because they either annoyed me, weren't right for me, or I was playing the field.

But they have all managed to be questioned! "Isn't that girl good enough for you?" "What's wrong with her?!" Why can't they just stay out of my business? I know they want me to be happy and find someone who is right for me, but you don't got to ask me every couple of weeks to see if there was a magical princess that is my knight in shining armour, or in their minds, Juliet to be Wed and bed.

And it doesn't stop there! All adults do this! They assume I'm straight, understandably, and ask if I'm a "killer with the ladies". Let these adults see one girl with her arm around mine or coming to see me and I'm a womanizer or pimp. They will all be ready to tell me to stop flirting or go off with that girl cause she's cute or you should get used to how girl's are because you'll be spending the rest of your life with her and it just upsets me cause it makes it harder to say I'm a player for the other team.

I may be getting upset over something that isn't a big deal to some, but it bugs me because these are the comments that tell some young guys that you should be with a girl. And that's what leads to young gay men feeling bad about themselves or hiding who they are even longer. But that is part of this gay cub's battle with society... But I'll win someday. Thanks for listening,

~Be breezy!~