Welcome to Gaia! ::

Drew, babe, you have no idea how happy you've just made me. <3

I'm afraid its true, though. I have been PMing her behind your back. [dramatic soap-pose] But it's not what you think!

XD Ok, thats too silly to keep up with.

Oh man, I want to read all this but I really don't at the same time, and its driving me nuts. XD

Let me say this, though. Drew, if there is one thing I have learned in the last six months alone, it is that being afraid of new experiences is useless. If I hadn't made myself go the extra mile and grab Andrew's hand, he and I may not have stayed close to each other the rest of the night. And if we hadn't done that, I might never have learned he was planning to sleep in a laundromat and basically dragged him home with me. And then I wouldn't be so close to believing that given the right amount of time, I might be able to fall in love with the kid.

Basically, what I am saying is, even if you second guess, you're probably right the first time, and just say what you need to say, do what you need to do. Do what's right in your heart. Because the things you regret the most are almost always the things you didn't do, or held back on.

I'm inclined to agree with lion, where's the risk if you don't try? I had a chance with my friend, she waited, i didn't take, and now she's married. If I would've stood up took a stand and went for it, she could be mine now, but instead that isn't so. What's life without a little risk?

Thats not cold.... *Checks weather widget* it's 29 degrees here...

*edit: i'd be wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt if it was 59 deg. O.o

*sigh* I took your advice.

Near the end of lunch today, I told him. Well...I looked at him for a moment, and I said "Timmy, I like you." He smiled but said nothing. Now, from what I understand--which I gleaned from personal experience, and from surveying my friends--this means either "you're creeping me out, but I'm trying to politely decline anyway, because I don't want to hurt your feelings", (which could be, but it didn't feel like a consolation smile) or "I'm flattered, but shy, so yes, but you'll have to pursue me to find out".

*sigh, again* Why can't guys be as simple as girls? Or at least more direct.

I...I think I realize now. I hide myself in different ways. I'm open, maybe so open that I lead people to believe there's no more to know. I'm very affectionate with friends, but so flirtatious that it comes off annoying. I'm so...aggressive, that I scare off most potential suit/ors. On purpose, but maybe subliminally. I don't think I really want anyone to get too close to me like that--I'm afraid to feel so much, to risk getting hurt, or worse, hurting someone I care about.

Today, I was wearing two layers of (thick) clothing, but I might as well have been naked. Did I ever tell you I wear clothes a size too big? I say it's because of my shoulders. For a time, that was true. But I wore a size smaller last week, and my friend Taylor, (yes from LRD), asked me if I had lost weight. I told her no, that I had gained weight, and felt uncomfortable all day wearing the shirt. She told me--in true Taylor fashion--that I was silly, that I should wear the clothes that fit me. I laugh and smile, and tell her I'll call her later.

She's right every once in a while, I know. Still, I'm not about to buy a new wardrobe--not yet.

I think I understand now. I always fought myself--the whole time. When it was me against the world, I played on the world's side, too. I'm no better than anyone else--I know that. So why do I make everything so...difficult? For myself. For others to be around me. Near me.

Time has passed, and I've gotten remarkably better. I stopped being so violent, started washing regularly (a long time ago...). I stopped being so bitter, so sharp with my words. I became more open. More honest. More...true to myself. I even came out. I addressed my feelings. I weighed out reason and passion. I started caring again.

The thing that scares me...is that I'm starting not to care. Again.

I was always a flirt. But since so many other (bad?) parts of me have been pruned back--my arrogance and secretion, for two--aggressiveness (I don't know another word for it) and flirtation have become key parts to my personality. Vanity, too, if only a little.

Now...I realize that even my looks have grown and developed and changed. Somewhere along the way, I did in fact grow...attractive. Somewhat. My hair needs to be cut. I need to use Proactive more regularly. I need to remember to shave more, and work out more. But it's there, right beneath the surface, if only I would dare to find it. I think I get it. My flaws...I've sacrificed them, one at a time. Each has gone to further a better me. Myself, as I'm meant to be.... The me in my dreams. My violent nature allowed me to become self-assured. My loud mouth, my past...helped me become open. My arrogance helped me develop ambition and self-esteem. My secretion allowed me a corner of my soul that I'm still holding out hope for--and allows me to be a pillar of strength and release for friends. I can even see a purpose for vanity, and for flirtation--Henson was right. He always is. I need to get fit.

I need to become the me that I was meant to be. If that means...if that means giving up my little flaws...I guess I can't help it. I guess I can't try to be what I'm not. Or not meant to be.

So, yes, Justin, you're right. Much of my poetry has been...maybe not self-gratifying, but sought out, even if I didn't really know it. Similarly (but not at all the same, really) each new epiphany is a step closer to that me. That me I'm meant to be. Maybe that's why I don't want him to return my feelings, to date, to fall in love, to make love to me. Because he's just another Lesson, Justin. A part of me knows that. I might not believe this tomorrow, but I know right now: he's another sacrifice. Another epiphany. Another step on a long road, and I don't want him to be--I don't want him to be!--but he is. Just like Codename: Key. Just like Will. Just like Robert, even. Like Henson and Christene. Like Mama--as much as it hurts to admit.

I'm becoming better slowly--a truly good person. But at what price? How much pain and suffering will I have to endure, to dole out, before-- how many people will I have to redeem with myself, grow into, with, learn to love before-- how long will this pilgrimage run, how many years will I have for myself before-- before--before my soul is sated with memories, experiences, feelings, thoughts, ideas, ideals, virtues-- before my heart has had its fill of laughter and tears and sweetnesses and sorrows of all kinds?

You don't get it. None of you do. I don't deserve any of you--you're all such good people. Tommy, you're the most compassionate person I've ever met online--and thinking about it, among the most in real life, too. Cari, you always have a kind word--and same to Snow. Shagon is always direct, KiyoKyo, thoughtful. Kiyome, long past from these halls, stronger by far than me, and same to Lion, always lending a hand. Glory can always make me laugh so hard I cry. Muse always has generosity and care for people, no matter their importance. Next to all of you, with all of your gifts and talents, your special goodnesses, your uniquenesses, I feel like a parasite. Unworthy. Even my goodnesses feel secondary somehow to yours. Not false, not pretense. Unimportant. Progress seems futile.

Do you understand, now that I've laid it so baldly? I'm not a good person. Stop deceiving yourselves--I love you all, but...but I don't think I love myself very much. And there is good reason for that--just read one too many poems, and you might begin to understand.

And that's why it's so hard for me, to be my whole self. I can only do so at the expense of others, and myself. What price is to high, friends, for friendship? How long will you tolerate me? Are you sure, Justin, that you can, in fact, "keep talking to me as long as I keep talking to you"? Tommy, what would make you stop caring?

Truth is, I don't know. That scares me--not knowing. But that knowledge does, too. I live in a purgatory of thought and contemplation, somewhere between Hell and Nirvana. Thin veneers of lie cover the truth like scum on a pond, distorting my reflection, tinting it with unnatural color. But could I truly accept clarity? Or would I wish again for the algae--though, I know...once I see through it, there's no going back. There never is, you know. Not for you, and not for me.

Why is a hurricane inaccurate, Justin? Because I am not a force of nature. Not yet, at least. For now, I am the controlled swings of a giant metal ball, the direct, unflinching motion of destruction. But such things don't have souls--they do not think. They do not breathe. They do not love.

So, the questions I wrestle with myself are the same as always, Justin, Tommy. I have no race to call my own, no precedence for my existence, no direction--only dreams, and friends who, for whatever reason, choose to stick around. So who am I, and what? I don't have the answers yet. And I'm not willing to give him up for a piece of that puzzle. Or you.

But here I am. Still. With one of the longest posts in the history of the FSFBG.

Love and Vale,
~Andrew/Masq

Jesus H. Christ...

I swear to God that if I ever sounded like that when I was younger I'm surprised no one shot me, hell I'm surprised I didn't shoot myself. Though, I did nearly kill myself that one time. That was an interesting afternoon.

So basically, you seem to have some terribly high and mighty view that using people is wrong, but self-improvement is good. But self-improvement at the cost of using others is wrong, but self-improvement must happen for you to get over using people. Either you're messed up, or I'm far too callous. Using people emotionally and even physically isn't wrong, your merely fulfilling a need or even a want. How many people have you hurt in the process? Clearly it doesn't seem too many and its always appeared the only thing scaring them way is your desperate flamboyance or your sexuality, and your sexuality is objective, so that isn't any fault of yours. Flamboyance can and more often than not, does scare people off, offends them at times but generally they just don't know how to deal with it. Gays are still not socially accepted in most societies no matter how many friends you have there will still be people who will look at you and think: s**t, he's a f**. But so what? People look at me an awful lot more and think: s**t, what a fat a**. But who cares? So you drive a few people away, 6 billion people in the world, good odds if you ask me.

And when am I not right? People are easier to read than English. And with this post it only tells me how much sympathy you're really seeking. The majority of people here will more than likely attempt to crucify me if I harp on you any more, but again, who cares? I know what you're doing, I imposed 6 years of mind altering depression upon myself and believe me, this was one of the many things I did to gain attention. I'm not saying you're depressed, I'm saying you need to pull your head out of your a** and realize you still have friends because all this self-hating bullshit is in your head.

There is no right or wrong in this world. We are beings comprised of ethics and morals, right and wrong are subjective arguments incapable of holding sway. I've used tens, maybe even a hundred people to get myself where I am today and believe me, I've been used a fair share as well. There is nothing unethical about using something to further yourself, or to find out more about yourself if you don't cause them any harm. There is nothing morally corrupt about exploring your feelings aggressively.

And what's wrong about not caring? The world cares too much if you ask me. Humans stink of the filth that is humaneness. We wreak of caring and yet we don't. We'll reach out to AIDS infested Africans, for what? So one of a hundred can live another week, day, hour? For 25 cents a day you can put money into the Church's pocket so they can buy commercial time. Even I care too much, I care too much by responding when really everyone should simply ignore your post and deny you the very sympathy that I yell at people for even thinking of giving me. Sympathy is a cancer that fuels the machination of right and wrong, and at 5 minutes to the gallon the stuff is impossibly addictive.

Your swings are not controlled, how can you even think that when you admit you don't even know who you are? Farce is not becoming and lies are hardly amusing. You may be able to rattle the chains o everyone else but I'm a veteran of this sort of thing. Hurricanes are uncontrolled, unthinking and stop when they run out of steam. Posting what you did was an act of uncontrolled thoughtlessness. And you ran out of steam at the end, you ultimately gained nothing by writing it accept the possibility that others might pity you.

What will it take for me to stop talking? Nothing short of my death, for even if I was the last man on earth I'd still talk, granted, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice, so vanity plays a small roll. And not knowing... hahahaha. That isn't fear, that's anxiety Drew. You want to know so badly that you're getting jitters because you're in a position of finding out.

Anyway, I hope you haven't garnished any pity from this post, that would be a terrible shame. I do hate inflating egos that aren't mine.

I think, Drew, that you are the one who doesn't seem to get it. You may believe you don't deserve the good friends you have, but you must, otherwise we wouldn't be here. Don't you see? Nothing would make me stop caring! I will always be here, internet or my cell phone, for you to talk to. I will always be here to listen to you, or to spill my guts to you, or to give you that little piece of advice that eludes you. Always. Until the day I die. Why? Because I am your friend, I will always be your friend, I will always love you.

You say I am "the most compassionate person" you've met. I hear that a lot. I hate to believe that compassion is boiled down to me, because quite frankly I'm a spoiled little brat queen. I mean, I love unconditionally, and I'm a powerful empath, but I'm still used to having things go my way, and I get terrified when there is a chance they won't. I'm conditioned to perfection, and I know it. I take everything for granted, and I know it. And I even take that for granted. There are two sides to every coin, my lovely Rainbow, and I think that is quite literally what I think you aren't quite understanding - in the giant Wishing Fountain of Life, we're all just coins. So just because you see one side of you, doesn't mean everyone sees that side. And neither side is really bad, because opposites aren't always necessarily that way, despite how things in movies get portrayed. We're not deceiving ourselves. In fact, I rather think its the other way around.

I actually came in to post some pictures of myself, but since my post is long enough from ranting, I'm going to have to post twice in a row. XD

Wow, um, Okay, I'll save this reading for later. It sounds like it isn't a good reading before one goes to bed.

Love you guys!

MAJOR EDIT!!! << Anyway, um, that was before everyone posted after Lion did, by the way.

And Tommy, my mother saw those pics...yeah. Whatever, though. She doesn't know what she's talking about.

Yeah, I'll get the scoop somehow.