Still here

So… long story short that big risk I took back in May didn’t work out. And now I’m in the same position I was last year, broke and living at home. I think it would be more accurate to say I actually have it worse off than I did last year, because last year I at least had a job while being broke and living with my parents.

Now this just seems like a stupid rant but it isn’t. This is me acknowledging that I am once again at an emotional low. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to go anywhere, and I don’t want to do anything

I haven’t felt this bad in a while actually. Why am I saying this all to an all but abandoned blog? Because when I started this I said it was a journal. I said it was somewhere I could be vulnerable without much consequence and that’s what I need right now.

I honestly don’t even care if this never gets read because it’s not really for an audience, it’s for me. It’s for the days when anxiety is stopping me from going outside or even texting anyone. It’s for the nights when I feel exhausted even though I slept through most of the day. It’s for when I fill out job application after job application and feel useless for getting next to nothing in return.

Maybe venting to the Internet makes me crazy, but it also makes me feel sane, and maybe that’s all that matters. But, for now, I’m done venting. Maybe I’ll actually get something done today. 


Just dipping my toe back into the water of blogging

Yes I’m back (again) and I’ve been through a hell of a lot this summer, but that’s for another post.

I’m returning with a topic I’ve talked about before,

at length, and probably too much.

But still, I talk about it now.


Because I’m still hit with the accusation that I’m not queer enough.

I’m sick of this, you say too me.

You bring up this topic Ad nauseam

Yes, I know this much, I said it myself,

but still,

I will bring up biphobia and bi-erasure until I see that there is none.

And sure, maybe this poetic approach is a little overplayed.

But I’m a writer, and when the inspiration comes, who am I to say no?

Especially with this issue,

this pet peeve that I encounter every day.

My gay friends like to joke,

pick a side.

I say why not both?

Even if I were a little more sapphically-inclined,

why would it matter?

Does it make me more queer if I pick Alice over Bob?

Pick a side,

the anonymous stranger says.

You haven’t found the right man yet.

Plus isn’t it a little bit slutty,

to just take whatever you can get?

and isn’t it a little greedy,

to want everything for yourself?

Those three words are what I, and so many others like me, am reduced to

Indecisive, slutty, greedy

If you knew me, you’d know I’m none of the above,

That I just want my freedom.

The freedom to see door number one, and door number two,

and tear down the walls between them.