About This Page:

This is a plain and simple collection of thought provokingessays I have written under various pen-names. I like to express myself via words very often and my Essays seem to do that best.

I Am A Gay Male

Today I wrote five words on a piece of paper. One was the first person singular present tense pronoun , I . The second was the first person singular present indicative form of to be , am . The third is the contracted form of an , a. The fourth is the slang version of a male homosexual, gay. The fifth, and final, word of this phrase was the adjective meaning the masculine version of a member of the kingdom Animalia, male.

When you look at those words alone, they mean nothing. They are simply words of the English language. They have no societal meaning, nor do they have any emotional weight, or logical weight upon them. They are simplicity in it's purest form , hypocritical.Yet the moment these five words are linked in a specific order, they become venomous weapons. They become something that can be utilized to bring hatred and other emotions that serve no purpose but to hurt others in some manner. That is the sadness of our language.

I am a gay male. Two of those words should have an impact on the world, and two shouldn't. Yet those that should, dont. Those that shouldn't, do. The first two words are, "I am". The last two are ,"gay male". I'll tell you now that the words "gay" and "male" are the two that play the largest part in our societal standing. Which is a pity. Because neither of them serve any purpose other than to describe a noun.

The first two words though, those words should make you think. "I am". First person indicative singular of to be. I am. So simple only three letters, yet they spawn a world of singularity and perfection. Every being who can speak an entire sentence, has uttered the words , "I am". It is what sets you apart from everybody else. At the same time, it locks you into a box. The only key to that box , is whatever you put after those two words. I am a man, woman , child. I am black, white, green , blue . I am gay , straight, bisexual.

Too often in our society I sit and realize that there is too much of an emphasis on the words which define and lock us into those boxes, those categories. Gay and straight. Up and down. In and Out. Black and White. Pagan and Christian. Right and Wrong. True and False. Do you see ? There is only Black and White anymore. What happened to the eight shades of grey (gray) that once inhabited our every existence?

Why , in our advanced society, do we rely on these labels, these adjectives, these words, to determine who we really are, and what others see when looking at us ? Why in our society, do we rely not on logic or truth, but rather on emotion and tainted realization ? Is every revelation brought before us so important as to cause such a locking, such an imprisonment ?

I am a gay male. Somehow it is believed that these five words sum up my entire being. One cannot properly judge another person, another entity with five words. Nor can they judge them with a million words. Words cannot express the true nature of any entity. While those five words acurately describe myself, they do not describe every aspect of my existence. They do not declare that I am an Artist, Actor, Dancer, Writer , Student , Teen , Leader, Follower or Guardian. They do not show that I am mysterious , romantic , loving, caring , masked , lost, or found. They simply state that I am a gay male. Nothing more or less. Yet somehow they define me in my entirety. If only.

When I finally understood that I was, "a gay male," it made me feel as if I should change my entire being. I went from dark colours that I had always worn, to bright blues, and rainbow necklaces. I changed myself because society stated that I should be a certain way. Act a certian way. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Those two deciding words stated that I should now be as effete and foppish as possible. They commanded my transformation into a self-fulfilling prophecy. That is the power of such statements.

I am a gay male.

But I am so much more.

Silly Americans

Lately, I am forced to decide that thw words , "America" and "Stupidity" are synonymous. I , too often, experience the incapacity of Americans to fully utilize their potential and experience life to it's fullest. Lately though, things have become increasingly more incompetent, and pathetically inclined. Whether it is war on invisible terrorism, or shifting taxes in an effort to boost our already dead economy, still we , as Americans , in general have lost the ability to conduct logical thought within our own minds. We have been subjected to constant mind-washing that makes us believe that the government has OUR best interests in mind when it decides on new legislation.

I refuse to believe such rubbish simply because I am not one of those huddled masses. I am not some creature, animal, to be led by the benevolent leash of society's hand. I am not that simple minded, regardless of what others may imagine. I am not that pathetic, that little. That is not me, and I refuse to sit here any loinger watching our country flush itself down the toilet.

All over the world, the other countries are pointing at us with grin on their faces, and laughter eminating from deep within their loins. It hurts to sit here and watch our world diminish into a pile of dust for other nations to scoff at and muse about behind our backs. I will not be part of the problem. I will become the solution.I will evolve into what our cuntry cannot. I will be strong for our society and proove, if only to myself, that we are not all mindless zombies to be led astray by false prophets and lieing gods.

Let us pray that my endeavor
does not go unnoticed by the rest of our nation,
our singular society.

Things Change With Time

[WARNING: Ok Ladies and Gentlemen , please do not read further if you think I might disrupt your mind's thought processes with my idle musings reguarding the pre-programed hypnosis we all live with on a daily basis.]

Things change with time. That's a funny quote. No idea who said it, no idea who told it to me, but I've always found it interesting.I don't knwo why exactly. I suppose it gives me hope , and gives me reasons to dream, to imagine the many things that might someday be changed by time. Which brings up another thought. This is the one that you hear most of the time in relation to. "Things change with time."And that common phrase is...

"Time heals all wounds." I will not condone such a phrase. For it is a lie, as are many of the sagely wisdoms of society. Though things do change, they are never healed. Though the vivisble wound may vanish with time, all wounds leave scars, however invisible and faint they may seem. Those scars stay with us always, therefore , time never heals wounds. If anything, time makes the wounds more prominent in your mind.

We've been programmed by society to believe and spout off these phrases. Even if we've somehow managed to keep from believing them, we've still been somehow coerced into spouting them off at random times in our lives. They hold no more worth than anything I were to say. They were spoken or written by some normal person, who's "shit still stinks" and the only thing that somehow makes their words more important, is the fact that they somehow managed to say it first.

If I sound cynical, I'm not. I'm just annoyed with our history and its manner of evolution. That is all, I suppose. I'll be making a nother post only a few minutes from now, but I wanted to make this post first, just to get my negative energies out for once and for all. Hope you enjoyed. Even if you didn't, I warned you , and you decided not to take that warning there fore , I cannot be held responsible. Thank you, and...

Goodbye.
KittieBoi Krimmel

~Quotes~

"If you want the ultimate get rich quick: count your blessings."

"Without the Pessimist, the Optimist wouldn't know how good he had it."

"While a ship in the harbor is safe; It isn't fuliflling it's purpose."

"It takes both sunshine and rain to make a rainbow"

"The man who never makes a mistake , is the man who never makes a discovery or relevation"

"If you are willing ot admit your faults, you have one less fault that needs admitted."

"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning."

"To be loved is to be fortunate, but to be hated is to achieve distinction."

"It takes one tree to make 10,000 matches, but one match to burn 10,000 trees."

"A forest is in an acorn"

"The hardest beginning makes for the happiest endings"

"A penny for your thoughts a dollar for your dreams"

"A thorn defends the rose, harming only those who harm the bloom"

"Look not where you fell, but look where you slipped"

"More grows in the garden than the gardener knows he has sown."

"A forest is not grown in a day"

"A single rain-drop raises the sea"

"Eat to Live do not Live to Eat"

"All things in Moderation"

"All closed doors are waiting to be reopened later"

The Boy's Eyes Were Watery

"He made me sleep outside in the car every night," he said.

"No matter hold cold it was, or how bad it got outside, he said i had to sleep in the car," he finished.

The young boy looked up at me with his soft golden-brown eyes, in a faint effort to let his words sink in and then, in an instant, closed his eyes and shok his head. For the next minute or so, he stood there in front of me like that, periodically opening his mouth to say something, but always reconsidering and releasing a long sigh. Always that sigh was followed by a shake of the head each time a little harder. He was literally having trouble believing the words he barely uttered in his whithered state.

"I don't understnad," i started, "Who made you sleep outside every night?"

"It was my stepfather," the words dripped with venomous hatred ,"He said there was only room enough in the house for two kids. . . his two kids. He siad I wasn't welcome in his house anymore, he told me i was scum, unworthy."

"Why is he so angry at you?" I almost didnt wnt to know, i knew the answer would be something i wouldn't want to hear.

Mitchell opened his eyes slowly, for only a moment then shut them again, squeezing out a tear. His mood, his face, his posture changed instantly before me -- a kid transformed from somebody who was hurt and angry into a man who was suddenly very insecure , weak, and shy.

He bit his lip, at least a dozen times before finally looked away from me ashamed by his existence. His words were so soft, so distant, that I had to strain to hear them clearly.

"You see," he began slowly, "i told my mom one night that I thought something was wrong with me. "

There was a long distant pause, I almost asked him what it was but before I could force the sentence through my lips, he spoke.

"I told her I thought i was gay," it surprised me.

"As soon as my stepfather found out about that, he said I could never sleep inside his house gain."

At that, Mitchell opened those familiar eyes for a second to see what reaction I had gotten, then just as quickly he closed them again. Again I saw the crystal tear float down his cheek.

I wanted so badly to comfort him hold him close and communicate how much i understood him. Let him knwo how happy i was that he had come to me.Instead I spoke finally.

"WHat about your mom?" I asked, "Did she try to make your stepdad change his mind ?"

"Yeah," he whispered barely, "She wanted to stand up for me, but every time she tried, he'd beat her. It was really bad , joshy , really really bad," with that last portion his voice triled off completely.

Then he spoke again , "I told her to just give up, i hated seeing her hurt, she only stopped cause i said to do it."

I stared briefly, and in a sudden surge of motherly instinct, I murmured , "You're a great person Mitchell , and you really don't deserve to be treated like that. Gary is an ass. "

You see, I originally met Mitchell when he was only 6 or seven years old. I had babysat for his mom for a while , and hadn't seen their family since they moved to Lakewood , Washington when I was 15. Mitchel was 10.And now he was here, three years later, staring at me on this warm summer evening. His clothes were tattered, and worn, he was a ghost of the adorable boy i once knew.

Now he stood there, eyes closed , as another tear followed the familiar path down his cheek. He was too choked up at the moment to speak , or even whisper.

The soft shaking of his head screamed out , "I wish I was worth all this."

Babysoitting, and taking care of a million and one of my family members have taught me a few things, one of those is as follows. Some kids close their eyes because they litereally want to leave you behind, to go someplace that's their very own. Other close their eyes because they're so unsuree and so convinced of their worthlessness that they're afraid to look you in the eye . . . even though they desperately need a friend to talk to.

That second look, that second version of closed eyes, in one I saw on Mitch. He was the kind of kid who was forced to believe that he was innately bad and unworthy and unloved because he was gay. I know I used ot be one of those kids. Ironically , it's that kind of kid thatneeds you to look deep into their eyes , and talk to them the most of all...

"I'm really glad you got here Mitch," I spoke with pleasant intent, "How'd you find us?"

The answer came , as i knew it would, instantly, Mitchell was dying for somebody to ask, somebody to tell his story to.

"I finally oculdn't take it anymore, " he let out, "So, I decided to run away in the middle of the night when nobody would notice.I walked to the highway that led to SeaTac airport . . . and stuck my thumb out," He was almost in tears now , but seemingly proud of himself, "I had no idea where i was gonna go, I just wanted to get away."

he was silent for a moment and I was going to speak, but before I could he said , clear as a bell, "It was either get away, or kill myself."

I knew he was serious, he wasn't exagerating in the slightest bit. The suicide rate for gay kids is much much higher that for the general population. Imagine , for a moment, how it must be for gay kids. not men mind you kids.Imagine being told, by how they are treated and mistreated, that they are no good and not lovable. If you were told that often enough, especially by the parents you had always thought loved you, what would you do? How would you survive ? Where would you go ?

Too often I see and hear of people , kids doing the unthinkable, and imagine that this could be me.

It's a true tradgedy that absolutely reaks my heart on a daily if not hourly basis.

I told him how glad I was that he hadn't hurt himself, I figured it was the least he deserved, then I told him, "You've got so much to offer this world."

He closed his eyes again but not until after he said, "Thanks, I needed to hear that," He continued, barely opening his eyes to look at me, "I hitchhiked from there, not knowing where I'd end up."

"I remembered you saying that if I ever wnted to come visit for the summer, or just to hang out a little, I was always welcome."

My eyes widened more than you'd ever know, to know that this boy, somebody I had only ever seen on weekend when his prents were out ont he town. THis boy that I woudl sit up late at night with to watch scary movies and hang out with, the little boy i babysat so long ago, he remembered and wanted to go to me above everybody else. I didn't knwo what to say.

"I found your grandma's address, sicne I knew she'd never move, and originally intended to get yours from her, It had taken me two weeks to get here, and most of hat was spent without a place to sleep, I knew I wanted to see you."

I could only imagine what he felt like when he finally discovered that I was living with my grandmother.

Finally he stared at me in the eyes, somethign he hadn't been able to do til now, and asked , "What am I gonna do Josh?"

I simply told him, "Sleep, just sleep, please, and we'll tlak in the morning."

So he's sleeping, on my bed right now, and I'm typing this out, ever so slowly, paraphrasing and barely remembering his words, yet remembering hte emotion behind it.

Homosexuality and Sexual Selection

If the evidence around us is to be believed, the majority (or, at least, the visible and vocal majority) of homosexual males are some of the most appearance conscious individuals in existence (right behind Cher and Michael Jackson [though what Michael is is still up for grabs]). Some of the common images that we have are: the gym bunny, constantly trying to sculpt his body to perfection; the pretty boy (just the right amount of concealer and blush, and oh! Gorgeous!); the Chelsea boy; the Circuit boy; etc, etc, etc. We see the gay community as the ones who are always immaculantly dressed and groomed and the ones who spend way too much time at the gym.

These assumptions are, of course, a gross stereotypification, but they, like most stereotypes, do have a basis in reality. In fact, the basis for this is quite strong. Many, many gay men do fit these stereotypes to a T. They will have more hair products than a houseful of women who work in a salon or a wardrobe full of designer clothes. We must ask ourselves, why? Of course, it is the same drive that causes teenage girls to starve themselves into a size two and middle age women to get face lifts and breast implants. Every human being with even a remotely normal hormonal and chemical balance wants to look good for their potential mates. Every human wishes to be sexually attractive.

We can quite readily link this to a few evolutionary theories. The most readily apparent and widely accepted way to look at this would be to say that being attractive to the opposite sex allows an individual to mate more often and have a higher likelihood of leaving offspring. One of my personal favorite theories in this matter is Diamond's theories of sexual selection, as pulled from The Third Chimpanzee and Why is Sex Fun?. What, essentially, Diamond states here is that we, as human being, have an imprinting mechanism that causes us to be attracted to those who were around us during the formative years of our lives. Thus, a girl of vietnamese ancestry raised in a standard WASP community should, most likely, grow up to be attracted to clean-cut, well off white boys. Or a caucasian boy raised in the tribes of Africa will find ritualistic scarring and harshly modified facial features to be the epitome of beauty in the African boys he lusts after. This is, or course, not universally true or held, but it is a pretty good rule of thumb. The anomolies in it are generally considered to be due to either childhood exposure to, say, a friend of a different ethnic type or a friend of the family, something of that nature. Also, there is the explanation of a drive towards diversity in the gene pool.

Now, what is the point of this built in drive that humans have to mate and reproduce with individuals who look like those who were around us in our childhoods? Generally, in most cases, those closest to us in childhood are either our parents or close kin thereof. We will imprint on these individuals, using their physical features as a template for what an ideal mate should look like. This allows our greedy, greedy genes to pass themselves on with somebody who is genetically similiar to ourselves, thus giving us a greater chance that our genes will be passed on more accurately or in a more pure form. From this, you get a very Freudian-esqu attraction to people who look like your parents (which explains both why I can't control myself around skinny, blond haired, blue eyed boys and why my last girlfriend had the same height, weight and general build of my mother. Horrifying thought, no?).

Now, back to the topic at hand, gay men and their constant desire to look better. In light of the sexual imprinting/selection theory above, gay men have no logical reason to have a drive to either look good or have a particular group to which they are attracted. Gay men are not attracted to each other for the purpose of offspring, and thus have no reason to have genetic factors in their attraction. In fact, the genetic factors often get in the way, allowing an individual to be incredibly physically attracted to an individual who's personality and lifestyle are highly antagonistic to their own. Unfortunately, it is very hard for humans to counteract these biological and psychological drives, to detach themselves from what their body is telling them and analyze a situation with their minds. So, rather than ending up with the homely, slightly overweight man in the corner who would make you laugh and smile every day for the rest of your life, you end up going home with the conceded pretty boy who kicks you out of his bed in the morning and then doesn't call you for three weeks.

Now, for men attracted to men in particular, this can be a problem. As Heinlein once stated, "Men tend to spray sperm around like a fire hose, and leave it up to [their mates] as to what to do with it." Biologically, males tend to be much more constantly driven to engage in sex. Combined with a particular need to be attractive and be attracted, this leads to a cycle of... well, gym bunnies and circuit boys.

Ok, just to restate more clearly for the record, the point that I'm trying to make here is this: Regardless of what we desire and feel, on purely intellectual level, it makes no sense for gay men (and women, but they don't have the stereotypes men do) to have a desire to pretty themselves up and work on their bodies constantly, because that is fleeting. When one is looking for a mate, what matters, over the long term, is compatibility between the individuals. This has been shown in study after study, beliefs and personality will win out over looks in the long term every time.

Now, to do my self-depreceatory and rather depressing sum up... I'm not going to rant at you and say that you should take a step back every time and think about this... That would be hypocritical of me. In fact, I'll acknowledge that, on a hormonal level, it is very, very satisfying to lust after your ideal. And, hell, if you get it, it can be one of the most incredible experiences you've ever had. Ah, yes, we are creatures of our hormones, aren't we?