Me one second: I’m still so lonely, downtrodden, and blue about being gay sometimes. Like, I’m going to end up utterly alone for sure and I must accept my miserable fate.

Me after a gay girl pays the slightest amount of attention to me: being gay is great, you know? Girls are just so pretty and fantastic. I talked to this one girl today and, like, sure… All we did was agree that Vonnegut is great, but it was really special, ya know?


As a young adult, I learned that you can’t share your fetishes with people you don’t completely trust. I  drew this conclusion after Eric and I were over, and I weaved in and out of several short relationships. I would feel embarrassed about having shown a guy my lingerie and/or sex toys, and eventually would come to regret fucking them at all.

Afterword, I reserved my kink (primarily) for those with whom I had a strong connection and a high degree of trust.

Apparently, I lost my grip. In a sickeningly Hollingsworthesque moment of weakness, I’ve been a fool. Showed my weirdo cards to someone who truly would never respect me or make a commitment to me. Now, I’m learning the same lesson all over again. Maybe this time it will stick. I’ve got to get this guy away from me before he ruins my semester.

How long does my invite to Texas last?

I feel like there’s no way I’m going to get this job making $27.50 an hour and I almost feel like I wish I’d never heard about it, because making over 50 grand a year would solve most of my problems. 

It’s a lot like how some part of me instantly wants to push away anyone I’m interested in now, like this is all the culmination of the world turning me hard. The bitterness stealing my sweetness.

I’m afraid I’m going to latch onto every girl who pays me the slightest amount of attention, shows me the smallest acts of kindness, because I’ve been so mistreated in the past and women are just so damn easy to love in the first place.

I’d rather download Tinder again and act emotionally stunted about it just because I ~feel~ some type of way and am so afraid of being hurt and rejected that I’d rather hurt myself before someone else can again.

Smart? Or becoming everything I hated?

Is it just a regional thing ooor?

Why is it that most 5ks seem to cater to rather right-wing (for lack of a better term) agendas/ charities/ causes/ etc.?

It’s quite interesting, as many stereotypes would have you believe that a bunch of vegan liberal pussies are the ones all aboard the gay-ass health boat (bare with my intense exaggerations here lol).

It’s not so much that I’m mad that yet another 5k for some police department exists (yo, they’re allowed) or that my options for what my money goes toward if I wanna run a race are rather often that or a church…

What I’m mad about it that organizations like one I stumbled across today, Black Girls Run, are such a minority with this type of thing that it’s ridiculous. So races that cater to other mindsets…

Where’s my 5k for BLM? More 5ks for non-profits? 5k for Feminism, because alliteration. Annual Gay Pride 5k?  Muffdiver Marathon? 10k for Titties (for the lude motherfuckers like myself out there who also like to run and donate to breast cancer research). 

And last but never least, more races that reward us with beer. It’s the best thing us lude motherfuckas got going for us.

I’m sure you’ve been on the opposite end of this feeling with me in your position. 

 I feel like your mind is made up about me not being with Tyler, so it doesn’t make sense for me to talk to you about my feelings. The overarching theme is that you don’t want me to have them. So I just don’t talk to you about it.