Be.: An internal, personal & emotional journal

By Al

How I survived, being a homosexual. An internal struggle of being gay and of being an artist. I wanted to fit in, and be like everyone else, but that just wasn't who I am.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483509310

Book preview

forgotten?"

origin Al

He was born in the east,

Then he headed out west,

To find a happier, brighter life;

To make a new home, his nest.

He packed up his Geo Metro,

Said good-bye to his mom.

It was time to let go,

From his childhood, that was gone.

For four days he had driven

Through dry lands and some snow.

As each day brought him closer

To something, he did not know.

California, he had made it,

Pennsylvania, now gone.

San Francisco held beginnings;

A new day comes, new dawn.

What would now happen here?

Will it ever really show?

Only that was determined,

By how much he would grow.

He had low confidence,

Yet he came, anyway,

Knew this place he had landed

Would accept him as gay.

Got a job in the Castro,

And a home right there, too.

Built a life with a boyfriend

Seems like that’s what you do.

But like most things, it ended,

Was a sad, teary day.

Packed up once more and headed

For down south, to LA.

Childhood dreams, finally granted,

Fame, celebrities, Hollywood.

Did this actually happen?

Could this be his new hood?

So for ten years he struggled,

Tried to make a new start.

One that had finally suited him;

One to show off his art.

Different places, different spaces,

A new roommate, new job.

Not much closer to being happy

Is this it?, he would sob.

Though he moved far away,

He still felt all the same.

Finally figured it out;

He’d been playing the wrong game.

So he worked on himself -

Meditation, therapy.

Antidepressants, read self-help books;

Even drank magic tea.

Some had helped, just a little;

Still he had a ways to go.

Spent a year unemployed,

Thinking time had moved slow.

In the interim, found a boyfriend,

That was wise beyond his years.

Helped encourage, support, and love him;

Tried to mop up Al’s tears.

But decided he should move again -

It was all that he knew.

Hoped his boyfriend would come with him;

To the desert, they flew.

Maybe Palm Springs would suit them;

Only time would help know.

Change is always there for you -

Take advantage, and grow.

No one knows where their headed,

But we face each day strong.

I can’t tell you what happens;

Just we don’t live, very long.

As for Al and his partner,

They both took a leap of faith.

We won’t know how it turns out;

Good things come to those who wait.

Life’s a crapshoot, take a chance

You only get once – try now.

Just keep on moving, as you dance,

Doesn’t matter why, or how.

Even those with no purpose,

So it seems as we live.

Maybe we’re meant to just love and teach,

And that’s all that we give.

The Meaning of life is, I think different for all of us, since we all do lead different lives. That’s why I would say that there isn’t just ONE meaning. If anything, I would say that there isn’t any meaning, and that I think it’s just one of those questions we will always perpetually ask, but we’ll never know? We may know after we die; but if that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be safe to say that we should know the meaning of death while we’re alive? And if the meaning of death is, well, it’s just a part of life, well then what does that mean? So it’s just really a vicious cycle going around and around.

I’m not sure it’s ever really meant to be defined because then everyone would base themselves on that definition, and we would measure our own lives by what that definition is, and if we were accurately close to that definition, or we were desperately far away? And then what happens is then people will judge us even more, for not living like the definition or meaning of life; which will then just create even more animosity, segregation, hatred, bigotry, and discrimination in the world.

If I had to wish for a meaning, I would want it to be acceptance, all around, all across the board, for everyone, for whatever they are doing, for whatever they’re not doing, for speaking their mind, for not speaking their mind, for being rich, poor, fat, skinny, black, white, gay, straight. What does it matter, in the end? We all die, right? So why not just live in acceptance of all mankind, while you’re around, and not give a shit about what anyone else is doing – they don’t care what you’re doing, right? Anyway, that would be my wishful meaning, but until that ever happens, I’d say that there really isn’t a meaning.

We’re all just human, doing what we want to do, doing what we don’t want to do, and what the hell is wrong with that?

January 29, 2000

God, this sucks!

What happened to me that I ended up like this, and none of my other friends, or siblings did? Am I that different? I didn’t ever think I was, and most certainly, if anything, tried not to be. But here I am, approaching 31, working in the most expensive city in the country, as a clerk for a tanning salon. How come I can’t have a real job? How come I can’t have the weekends off? How come I don’t get paid vacations, or even medical insurance? Maybe I AM different, or now I TRY to be.

I’m sorry, to my parents, because I didn’t end up a little better off. I hate when they visit me, and see where I work and live. At least all their other children can supply them with a place to stay, when they visit them. I can’t even do that. I live in a pretty nice house in a good neighborhood, but I have two roommates, and sleep on a single twin bed, that squeaks so much every time you move on it. I just don’t get it.

I used to blame it on my homosexuality, as the reason that screwed up everything for me, but then I see some of my other friends, who are also gay, and that doesn’t seem to be true for them. They have good jobs, and medical insurance! Then I blamed it on my excessive drug use, but that doesn’t seem to the reason, either. I have one good friend who took ten years to graduate from college, and she did just as many drugs, if not more than me. And now she’s working in her profession, which she studied.

I think I may be closer to where I am now if I would’ve studied what I really wanted to study in college, instead of just choosing to study something else, because it semi-interested me, AND I was too afraid to study what I thought I wanted to, because I didn’t want to be labeled a queer; which I am, but wasn’t ready to tell anyone, at the age of eighteen.

So now I’ve been paying for it, ever since. You know it’s hard enough to choose what you want to do for the rest of your life; but it’s even harder to do that, PLUS having to cope with the fact that you’re different from other people, because you enjoy the company of the same sex. And then on top of all that, you feel like you have to tell your friends and family, even though it’s none of their business.

So now I’ve been drifting here and there, from job to job, with no real skills of any kind, trying to find that ONE thing out there that means something to me, and something I can be good at, and also enjoy doing. Easy, huh? So what do