Indifference of Good Men |
[December 12th 2002 || 12:33am] |
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mood |
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pessimistic |
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music |
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Shh. Quiet hours. |
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I was small, mabye 6 or 7. I was trailing behind my mother as we walked the street. I forget exactly what goal we had that day, or even remotely where we were. I do remember quite a lot of people on this particular sidewalk, though, and being a very curious boy, I was examining most of the people we passed.
A black woman passed me, and without thinking anything of it, I told my mother "I don't like black people." Where I obtained this idea, I don't know. My mother was just as confused. I was met by a glare that said "My son won't think in such a way," and I didn't after that. I thought about it. Even as young as I was I realized the nature of my thoughts, and more importantly what was wrong with them.
I was 6 or 7.
Three days ago I sat down to dinner in Pathfinder Dining Hall and began to enjoy my meal. Conversation was going on between some of my friends. I wasn't particularly interested, whatever the subject may have been. I did, however, hear one thing that made me interested. One of the people I was sitting with made the comment "I don't hide my white supremacy." He was proud. I said nothing.
I was under the impression that no one thought like this anymore. I was under the impression that society had gotton past thoughts like that. I was under the impression that ignorance of this sort existed only in history books. Why didn't anyone tell me?
And now I'm wondering just how better I am, which is mostly why I've been losing sleep. I didn't say anything. I had the oportunity to say something, to combat his ignorance and I did nothing.
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Trip Like I Do. |
[December 2nd 2002 || 09:38pm] |
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mood |
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contemplative |
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music |
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Everclear - Heroine Girl |
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Ah. The familiar smell of pot wafting through my doorway is wonderful. The sweet smell of a bong touching my nostrils sends me into nirvana never experienced by any other man.
Not really.
I don't smoke. I don't drink. Yes, I'm innocent little Cory, but I do have my reasons. Mostly, I wouldn't like it. "Don't nock it if you havn't tried it," I've been told. That's a flawed argument.
No, I've never been drunk. I've never been high. However I do have enough knowledge to base my judgement. It's not necessary to experience something to be able to make an educated desision about that thing. I'll give an example: One would not say that he would like to just barely survive a plane crash into piranna infested waters. Why? Well he would imagine that the crash alone would hurt. A lot. Also, I'm sure that being eaten alive by fish is not something that he regards as fun. It's not necessary for him to endure that ordeal in order to make a decision.
I've spent a long time building up my inhabitions. They're the result of me attempting to design my personality, which I've nearly got how I like it. The idea of all of that being taken away by a substance scares me. "There's no need to get drunk though. You can just drink until you're happy," I'm told. I am happy. So then what purpose does liquor serve me? I realize that happy has a different meaning in that context, but it's all the same to me.
The health ramifications of drugs are enough of a reason not to do them. The dependance (whether on the drug itself or the feeling it gives) is another. The insanely high price is a third reason. The legality of the entire situation a fourth. Not to mention the fact that I am wary of anything that changes or amplifies my emotions. Emotions are one of the aspects that make us human arent they? So if we start messing with those, what are we?
Or hell... Mabye I just don't know how to have fun.
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Two Thumbs Down |
[November 18th 2002 || 10:13pm] |
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mood |
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frustrated |
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music |
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Punk. Shitty punk from my roomies computer. : P |
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This entry will only make sense to a select few of my friends. If you would like an explanation, you may recieve one at my discresion.
Remember when Home Alone came out in theaters? Everyone thought it was a great movie (at least I did... I was young!). Years later everyone's opinions changed and realized just how terrible the movie really was. Then something abismal happened. They made a sequel.
Well the box office is not looking good as a sequel in the world of Oswego is about to be released. Everyone is still talking about the original and how terrible that one was, almost a year after it's release. No one can possibly imagine how bad this one's going to be. I mean... how much more could they possibly do with the title? It was a abominable plot when it started. I can predict that it's just going to have a repusive ending this time. By the time the movie ends, I'm sure that no one in the audience will care for the characters, and everyone will be leaving theaters feeling as if they've wasted all of their money.
Keep this in mind though: Sequals are always worse than the predicessor, but at least hopefully less people will be buying tickets this time.
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Throw Away This Very Old Shoelace |
[November 15th 2002 || 11:04pm] |
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mood |
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aggravated |
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music |
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Pitchshifter - Product Placement |
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So what?
I'm gay. That much is clear.
So fucking what?
Whenever I am around a significant group of people who I call my friends I am drowned with questions, comments, jokes regarding my sexuality. And I just sit there, fake a smile, and act just as I've done for all of my concious life. I'll play just as I did throughout jr. high, high school, and the begining of college. I've gotton so good at it that it's instinct, carved into my shell. I feel empty if there is a day that I don't deflect a gay joke with one of my expertly fabricated smiles.
I'll return to my original question: so what? What about it makes it a big deal? I wonder what people would think of me if they didn't know. I wonder what would fill the empty spaces where conversations of "gaydar" and the dynamics of gay sex used to lie.
A little knowledge to the less than wise:
- Hearing an innuendo every time I use the word "Straight" in a sentence, for nearly two years is not still funny. It's annoying. Grow up.
- I am not your resident expert on everything gay. Go to the Rainbow Alliance. Then grow up.
- I do not introduce myself by saying "Hi. I'm Cory. I'm gay." Don't do that for me.
- Amazingly, there is nothing magical about me being gay. The logic that runs through my head is not different from the logic that runs through yours. If you must ask me a question about being gay, at least think about it first. You have a brain, please use it.
- I'm gay. So what?
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You Do It To Yourself, You Do |
[November 8th 2002 || 09:58pm] |
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mood |
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bored |
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music |
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Radiohead - Just |
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Oh yes. I was offered a chance to get out of this matchbox that most call a dorm room. So why am I still sitting here at ten o-clock on a Friday night? I don't dance, I don't drink, so what would the point be for me going out to a bar? I would simply be sitting there watching people have a good time doing things that I woun't enjoy if I had tried them. So again, Where is the point?
I would like to be doing something worthwhile tonight, though. Something that would make me smile. Something that would make me forget. Forget what? Well... I'd very much like to forget my tired, dull life. I'd like to be doing something other than staring into my computer monitor and the endless boredom that it contains. I'd like for my life to stop being so lifeless.
So when I'm offered a life jacket, I kindly refuse and continue to flounder in the ice-cold waters of monotony. Why? Mabye I just don't know how to have fun.
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Learning To Walk Part 2 |
[November 5th 2002 || 11:02pm] |
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There's also this other guy. He is extremly desirable, very cute, cool personality, lives on campus (in my hall for that matter). He just seems to be the coolest guy. His drawback: he does drugs.
That's the only thing that is keeping me from seriously pursuing anything.
Bah. I'm so new to all of this.
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Learning To Walk |
[November 5th 2002 || 01:22pm] |
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mood |
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sleepy |
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music |
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The low drone of a computer science professor |
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I'm going to explain some recent events in my life in order to get my journal caught up.
I'll begin at the begining, a little over three weeks ago:
It was getting dark as night was finally settling over Oswego. I was sitting, sulking, in front of my computer monitor, my room lit only by that and my blue christmas lights hanging from my loft. The cause of my sulking was how utterly alone I was feeling (I have been single for approximatly ninty percent of my life. Yes, I calculated that.)
"I like your lights." I turned. The voice came from a silhouette standing in my doorway. I had seen him earlier in the day and immediatly had thought "Wow. He's cute," and now he was standing in my doorway? I invited him inside, he introduced himself as Dan, and we began talking We didn't finish until about five and a half hours later.
I was very interested. So interested in fact that I hung out with him for just about the same time the next day. Most of that was spent laying on a rock down next to the lake, listening to the calm waves lap against the shore. I'm sure that it was the most romantic night of my life.
There is a downfall to all of this though. He lives on Long Island. He was here visiting a friend that lived in the building. He left early the morning after to travel home, but we talked that night, and every night after over the phone. We talked every night at least until about four days ago.
I'm fairly uncomfortable with new emotions. I've felt the same basic things for all of my concious life, that anything new feels wrong, unnatural. This new emotion, for which I have no name, frightens me. I think he took this as a regection.
This is where this situation stands right now. I'm still waiting to see how this pans out. Hopefully, something good will happen.
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Blame It On The Falling Sky |
[November 2nd 2002 || 12:56pm] |
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mood |
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happy |
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music |
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Radiohead - Black Star |
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I woke up this morning and saw uncountable amounts of blurry, white clouds floating down from the sky. I grabbed for my glasses and sluggishly put them onto my face. Indeed, it was snow and I was amazingly happy to see it. It was amazing because I normally would have glared out my window, shook my fist as menacingly as I could manage, and cussed under my breath at Old Man Winter while secretly planning his death (who says global warming is bad?).
But I was happy, and still am. What makes the begining of this winter different from any other? It's not the fact that I'm working tonight. It's not the immense amounts of school work that I should be getting done at this very moment. Mabye that's just it. Nothing's changed. Mabye that's a good thing.
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