I’m Getting Published!

write

So, I received an email from a literary magazine the other day, and it seems that the Dark Horse is finally about to get published! (Confetti falls from the ceiling and there’s much fanfare throughout the entire human population… Or… well, really, I called my mom and she was proud of me. But it feels like fanfare I say!)

 

Anyhoo, that’s all beside the point. The point which is this: I have been working my ass off, and it’s finally started paying off!

If I were to flashback to 2 years ago, when I first started my masters program in writing and literature, with nothing on my resume besides retail. Or to 5 years ago, when I was stuck in my Melbourne apartment, agoraphobic, and miserable. Or if I flash-backed to 6 years ago, when I arrived back to Ohio after undergrad, feeling like a complete failure because I didn’t make anything of myself in LA. I never would have thought that any of this would ever be possible.

 

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I’ve spent most of my twenties feeling like a failure. Feeling like life wasn’t wroth living. Feeling like I would never ever make anything of myself. The spark of hope was the faintest flicker, off in the distance of some cold dark foggy night.

Writing is what got me through it all. I’ve journaled since I was 7. And I started this blog in 2013, back when my mental health was so poor that I couldn’t even leave my bedroom without feeling weak. Writing. Venting. Creating. It was what kept me going.

 

 

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When I was a kid growing up in Ohio, I knew I wanted to tell stories. I was the lone gay kid lost in a sea of uneducated, hateful trash. Movies and books were the only things that ever gave me inspiration and showed me that life could be worth living. I always knew I wanted to give that to other people.

It wasn’t until recently that I figured out it would be my story I’d be telling. The stories of growing up in Ohio. Of being a lonely sex addict in Los Angeles. Of suffering from depression and anxiety. Of collapsing all over Australia. But most importantly, of never giving up. 

I’m so excited to see the the future has in store.  Did you hear that? I’m excited for my future. That is a very recent feeling in my life. I’m looking forward to what’s next. I’m excited to see how the publication process works. I’m excited to see what people think of my writing. I’m excited to write more! And above all, I’m excited to have an adventure. Because isn’t that what life should be about?

 

rock

 

Rock on bitches, rock on!

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

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Pictures That Give Me Energy

david

 

Have any of you ever heard of the photographer David LaChapelle? I love his photography because it always makes me so happy. His photos are so full of color and movement and shine and light. I love it. It’s the perfect cure for when I’m feeling down.

 

dave

 

I feel like these days everyone is really into that gritty-miserable shit. Everyone is like, “Oooohhh I just love it when characters are complex and nobody in a story is really the good guy. Everyone’s just bad in different ways.”  Or they want shows about drugs, like Narcos and Breaking Bad. Or movies about post-apocalyptic bullshit.

Everyone loves misery these days?  WHY IS THAT? 

The world is miserable enough! Why do people want more misery?

I want to be inspired. I want to feel like I can take on the world. I want a world where the sun is shining and I have a reason to get out of bed! And I feel like LaChapelle’s photos always have that.

dave1

 

So, my tip for everyone today is: If you’re feeling down, just go do a Google Images search on David LaChapelle. You will be blown away with beauty and color.

 

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Because let’s all be real here. We need more light in our lives. We need more color. We need more fun. We need more beauty.

 

dave4

 

Keep looking for the light in the world,

~ The Dark Horse

New York, I Have Arrived!

nyc

 

Somehow. Someway….

It happened.

I’ve finally arrived.

I’m in the land of Joan Didion, Robert De Nero, and Anna Wintour.

And It’s so insanely exciting and cool and terrifying and thrilling and wonderful and stressful.

I mean, people, listen to me, I am currently writing in a cafe in Manhattan, surrounded by brownstones with iron fire escapes, and the sounds of honking and all the rest of those very New Yorkish things.

nyc1

 

And obviously that sensory overload is good and bad. Sensory overload can lead to anxiety. And I’ll be honest, I’m getting a tad of it.

It seems like too much has gone right. I mean, who lands a good job in New York, finds an amazing apartment at a great price in a wonderful neighborhood, has good roommates, and…. is actually happy?

Does anyone else out there feel like happiness is one of those things that other people get, but the we don’t?

It’s like I’m waiting for the floor to drop at any moment.

Like, maybe this job will fall through. Or the owner of the apartment will sell, and I’ll have to move….or worse, what if I can’t find a place afterwards? And then I have to leave because the stress has caused me to have a mental breakdown and lose my job? It seems like I’m so used to pain and misery that I no longer have the ability to even believe that a good life exists.

It seems that whenever something good starts to happen, a hurricane alarm goes off deep within me. Some old sailor starts screaming, “Batten down the hatches!” I start to brace for the bad to begin again.

perfectstorm

AND YOU KNOW WHAT?

THAT FUCKING SUCKS AND IS UNFAIR.

 

And you know what else? I’m really fucking over it. Done. (Or for all you eighteen-year-olds out there, I’m #done).

 

It isn’t fair that I have to live a life convinced that I don’t deserve good things. Or think that I’ll never be happy.

Fuck that. 

And Fuck all the people out there who have conditioned me to be this way. 

Fuck all the kids from my grade school who called me faggot.

Fuck all the kids in high school who spat on me, and who told me they’d beat me up if they ever saw me in the bathroom.

Fuck the teachers who stood and did nothing.

But double fuck the teachers who made comments themselves. I’m looking at you freshman year health teacher who told me I’ll die of AIDS simply for being gay.

And also to my old German teacher who was openly homophobic. 

Not to mention EVERY SINGLE religion teacher I ever had, who told me I would go to hell. 

Fuck my old boss at Aeropostale who made fun of me for having depression and anxiety. Im sorry that you’re a grown 37-year-old woman who’s life has amounted to working in a bumfuck mall in a cornfield in Ohio selling cheap clothing to little girls that fall apart after a month. 

Fuck everyone in Ohio who discouraged me from dreaming big. Who told me the world would eat me alive. Who told me I’d never be good enough. Who told me I was stupid. Who told me I was ugly. 

FUCK ALL OF YOU. 

CUZ GUESS WHAT MOTHERFUCKERS, 

I live in Manhattan now. And I just got a job in television. And I’m finishing up my Master’s where I’m putting together a book full of my essays. 

So, here’s my cock. suck it.

nyc2

Werk.

 

I’m ready to embrace a life of meaning. A life where maybe I can even help change other people’s lives. A life where I’m happy and fulfilled. And I’m done even remembering what a bunch of boondock Ohioans tried telling me about life.

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

The Night I Thought I Was Going To Die

final

 

So, over the weekend I flew back to Boston from Ohio.  I was scheduled to fly home on a Boeing 737, which looks like this:

737

 

I booked this flight back in August because a roundtrip home was like, $170 so I had to jump on it. Back in October, Delta changed our take-off time.

Then they did the same in November.

And twice in December…

And when I arrived at the airport on Saturday, I also found out that they switched our plane to a Boeing 717, which looks like this…

717

 

I honestly think I’ve only been on a plane this small maybe once in my life, years and years ago…

The engines are literally attached to the sides of the plane!!!!!! Dear Lord Help Me! 

 

Then as we board, the captain comes on the intercom and is like,

“The weather here is pretty good, but when we arrive in Boston there’s heavy downpours and wind, so it’s gonna get pretty bumpy at the end…”

Kill. Me. Now.

On small planes, you feel everything. You feel every time the plane speeds up and slows down, every time it goes up and down, every time you make a turn.  It’s basically driving a Mini Cooper at 400mph, 30,000 feet above the ground.

Luckily, everything was fine for most of the flight, but then as we hit central Massachusetts, the sun had set and the storm began.  The seatbelt lights went on.

We descended into the clouds and then stayed there for a good half hour, why? WHO THE FUCK KNOWS.

When you looked out the window, it looked like we were in a tornado. The lights on the wing illuminated the sky directly around the plane, and all you could see was raging rain flying all around. Remember that scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy looks out the window in the tornado? it was just like that.

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You could feel the G force. When the plane pushed up, you sunk into your seat. Then as the plane fell rapidly, you could feel the moments of airtime. You could also watch the nose of the plane going left, then right, then down and left and up and left and down and right, and on and on and on….

 

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I was having a massive airplane teddybear Twilight Zone episode moment. Has anyone ever seen that episode? With William Shatner and the airplane teddy bear that destroys the plane? You should watch it right before a flight…

 

But then the scariest thought of all came to mind:

THE LANDING. 

The temperature in Boston was hovering slightly above freezing, with torrential rain and wind, and I’m in a flying Fiat. And to sweeten the deal….

screen shot 2019-01-07 at 11.28.56 am

This is Boston Logan airport. All runways dead-end straight into the ocean. yay! 

 

We began to descend into the potentially iced-over runway.

All you could see was rain rushing by the window, blanketed by a misty blackness.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, we were beneath the clouds, and literally almost already on top of the runway.

We touched town, but then bounced up.

We actually bounced! 

Then landed again.

We began stopping so fast that I was being thrust forward in my seat.

You could feel the plane swerving left and right.

I thought to myself:

Ok. Im in the aisle seat. So if there’s a Southwest woman sucked from the window event…I’m probably safe.

I’m not at the back of the plane… so if there’s a Qantas engine blows up event, I’m not near the engine.

I’m also not at the front of the plane… so if we have a Jet Blue our front wheel explodes and the landing gear catches on fire, I’m also probably not gonna die…

but then…

All I could think was “Asiana airlines cartwheeling at SFO”

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There’s no way my little flying tricycle could ever withstand that. The plane would break apart instantly.

 

But luckily, we landed safely.

I guess I didn’t almost die.  But still, the drama was there, people, let me tell you

it was thereeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

 

~ The Dark Horse

(And no the wasn’t proofread. This was written out of trauma! Trauma I say!)

drama

Dear Trans Community…We Need To Talk.

dear trans community...

 

Alright, so I need to have a heart-to-heart with my fellow LGBTQ community. And trigger warning, this post will probably come off as offensive and will mention graphic sexual material. Sorry in advance.

Ok, so let’s just put this out there: Trans people….what are you doing? I feel the need to write about this because this has happened to me multiple times now and I’m genuinely curious and confused by it.

What has happened is that trans guys have messaged me on the gay apps. When I tell them that I’m not interested, they obviously ask why, and so I tell them because I’m not into trans men. I am a gay man, and therefore, I love cock and balls with sexy bush .

 

I am then immediately told that I am transphobic. 

 

Really? 

 

Am I? 

 

For Real? 

 

So then I ask, How am I transphobic? 

And the response is always this: You claim to be a gay man, so therefore you should be attracted to anyone who identifies as male.

I then respond with: No…I am a gay male because I am attracted to the male body and all its giblets.

The trans guys always respond with:  No, I identify as male, you should treat me as one.

And then I’m like… Look dude, I respect you and I see you as male and I think you deserve rights and happiness, but the second you pull down your pants, and rather than a honking, raging boner, with a couple of balls knocking around, you have a vagina, I won’t be able to get hard…because I don’t find vagina attractive.

(PS- there’s also the HUGE issue of “non-passing” trans guys, which, as a gay man, it would be very hard to be sexually attracted to a trans man who has a vagina, and still looks physically like a woman… but you can’t bring that up to trans people because then they call you transphobic again…. so, anyways, moving on…)

 

So, then I’m like, why don’t you have sex with guys who are into trans guys? For example, I have a friend.  a really good friend, who is in trans women. My friend isn’t a weirdo or scuzzy. He is a safe and stable guy with a good stable job. He just loves trans women.

And then the trans guys are always like, No! Those guys are just using me as a fetish!

And then I’m like… Ok, so you’re hitting up gay men. Men who are interested in cocks and balls… and get mad when they’re not into you. And then, when you have a group of people who are into trans people… but you refuse to allow any of them to love you because you think that you’re being used… It sounds like you’re not allowing yourself to be happy. 

 

They then say something along the lines of, “No, you just don’t find me attractive because of cultural norms. Gender is a spectrum! You don’t get it! Society has told you that because you’re gay, you should only be attracted to one type of person!

And then I’m like…. Actually, I’m from Ohio you obnoxious privileged New Englander… I spent my entire youth growing up having everyone hate me for being gay. And all I ever heard was that I’m supposed to like vagina because that’s what’s “normal”.  I assure you that all those years of being beat up and harassed was very much not me following the social norm.  And furthermore, I’ve spent enough years of my life being told I’m supposed to be into vagina. I’m not. Sorry. I am just not. And I’m not in the mood for the LGBTQ community to start telling me that as well. I know who I am and I know what I like.

Then I’m called transphobic again and they repeat the whole gender is a spectrum argument…which I full agree with. Gender can be a spectrum, and people can do whatever they want…just like I can do whatever I want and be into whatever I’m into…and what I’m into is a nice cock, low hanging balls, and a hairy chest.

Then I get the whole “That’s just what society wants you to believe” argument again…

So then I say this:

 

Ok, look at this picture.

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By your argument of, as a gay man I should be interested in anyone who identifies as male regardless of physical body, then, hypothetically, I should be attracted to this picture of Jessica Alba if she said she identifies as male. Correct? 

 

Then they get really mad and tell me that I’m mean and that I just don’t get it, because I don’t want to get it, and that I’m transphobic and such.  Then they normally block me, so the conversation ends.

 

So, trans people, what are your thoughts? What am I not seeing that you’re seeing? because I am 100% confused, and completely shocked that I’ve had multiple trans people say the exact same things to me.

 

Also, this is 2018! I fully believe that there are trans men out there who are capable of creating a website or app. Why doesn’t the trans community create their own dating app? That way you can self-select the community you speak to. That way you’ll know any guy who has made an account on that app is into trans people!

Just like, as a gay man, I would never log into Bumble, because that is for straight people. It’s a women seeking men and men seeking women app. That doesn’t mean that I think the Bumble app is homophobic. It’s just that heterosexual people aren’t into the same sex. So, is there no way for the trans community to move off and make their own apps as well?

Anyone else have thoughts they’d like to share? Again, I’m sorry if this all sounds transphobic. I literally don’t understand how it does. I just think it’s preference.

 

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

The Post-Christmas Blues

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So, this time of year is always the same.

After the rush. After the hustle and bustle. After all the lights, the music, the food, comes the quiet.

The silence.

The after-Christmas nothingness.  And I fucking hate it.

 

Everyone has gone back to their own lives, taking their presents and their presence with them.

And life seems to slow to a halt. The magic is all used up. And somehow, everyone seems to be so ok with it.

Everyone besides me seems to love when Christmas is over. “I’m exhausted” they say. “I’m broke” they complain. “The holidays are always so stressful” they shout.

But me, I feel differently.  I love the holidays.  The love the busyness.  I love everything about the rush. And I can’t help but feel a little down every December 26th. It actually shocks me how quickly the world can move on from it.

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At least for my family, we have one day a year when everyone gets together. We have one day a year when we eat a meal together. We have one day a year when we can surprise each other with gifts…

But somehow, even this one single day seems to be too much time for my family.

Christmas seems to be an inconvenience more than a holiday.

We hit a new record this year: My aunt arrived at about 6pm Christmas Eve. Stayed till around midnight. Then came back Christmas morning for one hour to say goodbye, and grab her presents.  That’s a total of 7 hours. How many hours are in a year?

8760.

And she could only spare 7?

7 is 0.079908675799087% of 8760

That’s how much time I got to spend with my aunt this year…

 

win3

 

If I ever find love in my life, the person needs to come from a huge family. I want to experience a real Christmas sometime. Where spare rooms rooms are filled with family members. Where Christmas dinner is a feast. Where opening presents is a cherished and ornate spectacle.  I hate this rushed and sloppy Christmas that my family has.

I hate that my family treats the holidays like a burden.

And shortly after my aunt left, my brother and his girlfriend left. And the day after Christmas, my mom and dad were back to work. And I’m left wondering why I invested all this time and energy to fly home from Boston just to be surrounded for one day by people who could care less, and now… surrounded by nothingness.

I assure you, I think Boston is lame, and I’m so excited to start my new job in New York after the new year. But there is way more to do in Boston than Ohio. I’d much rather be spending my time off from school and work in a city like Boston where I could be doing things… I came home for family, and it seems like none of them care.

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But, even though this sucks, I’m going to try and keep my spirits high.

I have a new job that I’m really excited about in a new city… and not just any city, but New York City. I have so much to look forward to in 2019. 

I’m going to be finishing up my thesis, working towards to completing a book that I hope to get published. I’m going to start working for an awesome media company. I have so much going on in my future.  And I won’t let this post-holiday sadness derail me from my excitement.

So,

Yes, the holidays sucked this year .

 

But, ya know what, fuck 2018.  2019, here I come! 

2019

 

~ The Dark Horse