The Way the World Works Sucks


I hate the way the world works. I have ever since I was a child.

I grew up different because I was overweight. People pointed, laughed, teased, and physically hurt me for being fat. I used to hate hearing that word: FAT. They’d use it as an insult instead of a descriptor. I wasn’t anything else in their eyes except a fat blob with no personality and/or no feelings.

This mostly all happened in school. Some teachers and school staff stood up for me. Others ignored the taunts and tried to refocus the class without saying anything. A few placed blame on me: “They wouldn’t treat you so bad if you’d lose a little weight.”

Instead of working on why we segregate ourselves from people who are different, we blame the victim for looking/being different.

As an adult, this type of behavior continues.

Instead of accepting these differences, I’m told the world works a certain way and either I work with it to succeed or I accept I cannot/will not be successful. People claim it’s easier for us to be a cog in the machine rather than recreate the machine to work for us.

Recently, I’ve been questioning my position at my work place. I worry we aren’t working towards the greater good when dealing with certain clients. Are we doing this to help our clients or to make money? The typical answer from most people is “both”. My biggest issue being that we focus more on making money via scummy sales tactics and company policies rather than assisting a client with our product and receiving money for our exceptional services.

I did what I thought was the “grown-up thing” to do: I told my boss about my feelings. Instead of letting these problems fester and embitter me, I told my supervisor how I felt in hopes of receiving advice. She gave me advice, and I felt better. I understood now how to “accept the bad with the good.”

Then, a position opened within the department, what would be considered a promotion for me. I threw my hat into the ring believing I had learned and proved myself in a short amount of time. When I approached my supervisor about the idea, she responded: “I don’t think you’re ready.” Not completely insulted, I asked why she thought so, and she said it was “due to what we discussed the other day.”

A 5-year study found that rich people avoid one type of person: pessimists. Am I pessimistic for airing my grievances to my supervisor behind closed doors? Did I appear to have a negative attitude because I want to hold my place of business to a higher standard than a money-making machine?

No matter the answer, I feel that because I used the open-door policy of my company to help excel at my job I’m being punished.

I see a growing trend in those who are successful – other than avoiding pessimists – they’re also assholes. They care not about the well-beings for others or the repercussions of their actions that could affect others.

Politicians are a fantastic example.

Our current political system appears filled with corruption and scandal. Whether you choose between Republican or Democrat, they both work for corporations who line the pockets of representatives in order to pass legislature which allows said owners (the 1%) of staying rich, while leaving little for the middle-to-low classes. Even when we have a “fringe” candidate trying to run for office (ex: Bernie Sanders) to change the status quo, it’s incredibly hard to fight a rigged system using the system’s rules; and the moment someone highlights that fact they’re seen as whiny, lazy crybabies, which is used to discredit their argument.

So, how do you win? Do you swallow your pride and pull yourself up by the proverbial bootstraps by conforming?

Some of the most profound people refused to conform: our forefathers for example. Inventors. Philosophers. Artists. Scientists. By refusing to look through a set-up frame, these people wanted to see the bigger picture. They defied their elders, their peers, and even the law in order to explore and help build a brighter future and a better world for their descendants.

I feel less and less in-touch with society today because I’ve never been like everyone else. I am gay, overweight, feminine, rebellious, honest, upfront, kind, a team player, etc. Because of all these factors, I do not do well in typical situations. I do not conform. I stick out like a sore thumb, and people love picking at things which look out of place.

I believe this fuels my depression. My entire life I’ve felt like an outsider looking in, never really connecting or feeling connected to others. It’s a lonely journey.

Maybe I’m going through a typical life crisis for my age. Am I to continue forward on a path that everyone else treads? Or am I to take the path less traveled? Everyone eventually finds their way. I don’t know what mine may be for now, but I could be looking at it all wrong.

What if I’m not meant to tread any path? Instead, what if I’m meant for the sky?

Why I Write


Big shout out to Kourtney Heintz for inspiring this post.

I write because I enjoy telling stories. Sitting at a restaurant with my best friend or meeting new people at a bar, I enjoy not only entertaining people with funny or interesting anecdotes, but I am also intrigued by the physical/emotional/mental cues given during the interaction.

Also, as a Leo, I crave the attention.

To be honest, if I go back far enough, I admit I started writing because I enjoyed telling stories as a child. It was done out of necessity for attention. Thanks to issues of abandonment, I found I could pull people in if I had an interesting story.

Of course, it took years to master a tale. People became antsy or annoyed if I took too long or over-explained everything. It had to be believable; no jumping-the-shark moments or I ruined their suspension of disbelief. Lastly, it needed to sound like I knew what I was saying. If I just babbled on without a coherent string of thoughts, people weren’t interested in listening.

While the skill grew out of an unfortunate circumstance, it provided me a way to cope. Granted, I have used the skill for evil: what are lies if not stories? Combine my wholesome, innocent outside appearance with a believable, well-told story, I was able to weasel my way almost out of anything. Since then, I’ve learned to use my powers for good, and I have been capable of overcoming some deeply-rooted psychological inner-demons by pouring them out here on this blog or in a story.

Unlike Kourtney, who wanted to disappear by diving into her story, I wrote to be heard because I thought nobody saw me. I didn’t think I mattered, and I was scared of being forgotten. I’m sure psychologically, in my subconscious, that’s why I write now.

But I feel like I write for more than attention now.

Growing up, I couldn’t find books about stories I wanted to read. Stories set in Urban Fantasy, Horror, Sci-Fi, or even Realistic Fiction genres filled with LGBTQIA characters, especially overweight LGBTQIA characters. I tell my story, talk about my life and experiences, by inserting tidbits into numerous tales. Hopefully, by producing work I wish I could have found growing up, people won’t have to go through feeling abandoned or unseen.

That’s my goal now.


My Love Stories

In honor of Melissa Broder’s chapter in SoSadToday where she titles every single instance of her love/sex life as ‘love stories’, here are mine:

  • Watching my parents have sex: A Love Story
  • Having my brother teach me how a man makes love to a woman by watching our parent’s porn, but I was only fascinated by the men’s dicks: A Love Story
  • Playing doctor with my female step-cousins: A Love Story
  • Trying to persuade practically every friend I met into playing doctor: A Love Story
  • Giving my best friend a blow job for three seconds: A Love Story
  • My first girlfriend had great breasts – and although I heart breasts – I didn’t fully appreciate them because I was starting to realize I was gay: A Love Story
  • Pining for my best friend’s older brother’s dick: A Love Story
  • Beginnings of falling in love with his corpse: A Love Story
  • As I walked down the hallway with my girlfriends, and they howled and taunted you for being a “sexy beast”, I looked up and stared at your ass, realizing I’m gay and therefore understood why I felt different: A Love Story
  • 3 years of late night phone sex with a thirty-year-old at age 13: A Love Story
  • Trying to suck your dick even though you were ugly because I was a desperate gay boy trying to have his first experience: A Love Story
  • Getting caught talking on the phone to a hot Asian guy in Hawaii by 30 year old perv who I had 3 years worth of phone sex with: A Love Story
  • Thinking guys honked and whistled at me as they drove by, when really they were honking and whistling at my female friend: A Love Story
  • Scared I had a venereal disease despite being a virgin and asking my mom to help me identify it over the phone, and it turned out that I rubbed my dick too hard from masturbation: A Love Story
  • Believing I was demon baby spawn with lava for saliva because your dick burned after I sucked it, but it was because I chewed Orbitz wintermint gum every time before we would “get to business”: A Love Story
  • You said I had beautiful eyes in front of your girlfriend and then we went behind her back to have a relationship where you then cheated on me with my best friend causing me to become depressed and upset to the point that I slapped you in front of everyone in the lunchroom, thus getting me kicked out of Job Corps: A Love Story
  • Sucking my first black dick: A Love Story
  • I only want to see your dick: A Love Story
  • Becoming celibate: A Love Story
  • Your mom wouldn’t let you smoke pot, so you came over to smoke out only for you to find out I’m gay, then you asked for a blowjob but only after you drank your bongwater: A Love Story
  • Ignoring me: A Love Story
  • Falling for my best friend’s fiancee who turns out to be bi: A Love Story
  • Going out on a date with a chub chaser who happened to be in a relationship: A Love Story
  • Following the chub chaser around like a lost puppy dog: A Love Story
  • Realizing the chub chaser was a dick and becoming besties with his now ex: A Love Story
  • Developing a weed habit and falling for my bestie’s cousin: A Love Story
  • She-male enthusiast: A Love Story
  • Crippled Wizard of Oz fanatic: A Love Story
  • A masseuse, a baker, and big-dicked love maker: A Love Story
  • Realizing what it was like to fall in love with his corpse; death of a childhood friend/frenemy who I ultimately crushed on and always loved: A Love Story
  • Moving near Chicago Pt. 1 – Living the lyrics to Evanescence’s The Open Door album: A Love Story
  • Welcome to Miami, or that time I hung out with a 54-year-old at age 20 to get a free ride to Florida, also there was that time at the beach where a conversation happened in front of me between the 54-year-old Cuban and some other 50-year-old guy in Spanish where the 50-year-old told the 54-year-old that I wasn’t interested in him, and he was right: A Love Story
  • Moving near Chicago Pt. 2 – I want to Rock-n-Roll all night and get my heartbroken every day aka “Go Die in a Fire”: A Love Story
  • Coming back home to my father telling me he knew I’d come back: A Love Story
  • Going on a date I didn’t expect to last more than 2 hours, or how I put it down so good I got my own personal Glenn Close (Fatal Attraction reference): A Love Story
  • Moving to Ohio – never doing that shit again, but I learned a lot: A Love Story
  • Moving back home after my father suffered a stroke, how I almost killed myself during Christmas, and the way I let a notorious shitty chaser use me and never once did I get off with him during sex: A Love Story
  • Several boys who do not matter but I allowed to break my heart: A Love Story
  • I hate you, and by you I mean myself, and I can’t tell you/myself why except that I base these feelings on external validation from others: A Love Story
  • Going out on a date and helping the guy realize he’s actually a transgendered female: A Love Story
  • Masseuse/Baker/Big-dicked Love Maker dies and so does my spirit: A Love Story
  • The back of a Mitsubishi Lancer in Denver, falling for a stranger, and how my insanity drove the possibility of love away: A Love Story
  • How one boy held onto a grudge for three years to tell me he hated me: A Love Story
  • Jorge, my own personal Mexican lover and how he tried to shove it in with no lube: A Love Story
  • That time I used animal-inspired-shaped dildos on a guy with a furry fetish: A Love Story