Here it is: I’m tired. Tired of multiple inputs as to how I should feel. Tired of being told by those who have not walked a single step in my shoes yet have the audacity to presume they know what is best. Don’t feel anger…don’t feel resentment. Let it go. Forgive those who betrayed you.
Those who attempt to guilt me into thinking I let them down. Those who I stood for, time and time again, with praise and monetary rewards. Those who call and ask for me. Where are you when I need you? Where are you? You are off on your trip doing what you need to do, despite any plea from the likes of me.
Excuses followed by excuses are certainly no foundation for you to stand on when asking me yet again to bail you out. I ask and get nothing. You ask and give nothing but the bile of your disappointments when I say no. Then I am told how to feel.
I have spent most of my life in the position of being minimized by those whose arrogance seems somehow justified. Your role is more important and somehow smarter than anything I could have or ever did. You ask me why I seem so down and then tell me to “get over it”, yet offer nothing. Nothing but cheap lip service words that may have been read from some tabloid article about how to feel better. You use those words to condescend and minimize anything I might be feeling.
You ask who I am. Well, I am a reflection of the crap that has been presented. I am a reflection of the good that has been presented. If I speak of the good with enthusiasm, some attempt to challenge my sexuality with bad jokes about who I am. I have no time any further for those that act or live that way.
I have no more time to be with those who live under a sarcastic umbrella of ridicule. The umbrella that gives shelter from light. Shelter from the light that scares most. They spread their darkness with temporary delight until the next victim is in sight. I loathe you. You, with your manipulation of guilt and remorse. I loathe you who attempt to tell me how to feel. You know NOTHING about who I am. You never will and my armor all though is thick; it is there for the ones who attack and swim in orgasmic glee in the pool of blood drawn from me. May you drown in it. I will not allow you to be reborn in it.
Don’t tell me how I feel. Don’t tell me how I should feel. Ever. You do not have the right. Don’t tell me anything that you can’t back up. From the cradle I have heard how I should be; closed inside parameters that kept me stifled and locked away in an unattainable place. I blame nobody. But now I am at the place where I am get to say… FUCK OFF! No longer listening to the shallow lip service of those who spend their time keeping up appearances. Either put up or shut up. Stop asking of me and then running off to the next possible trend that will give you your insatiable need for failure. You can save your hollow praise. I am no longer the doormat. You are no longer something that is worth my praise. You showed your true colors.
Another thing…take your stereotypes and SHOVE them where someone else might want them. I have no further patience for the homophobes, bigots or racists of any kind. All the hate in that mindset can go to the hell of their making. The hell of the fantastical book of dreams and fantasy.
I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. That is it. No plea for attention. No shallow congratulations, please. I’m tired of talk. Now I will walk away from the ones that have nothing other than words they stole from another book.
Chris…
©2011
All rights reserved
Chris J Hutchins
Dog Hair Productions
Those who attempt to guilt me into thinking I let them down. Those who I stood for, time and time again, with praise and monetary rewards. Those who call and ask for me. Where are you when I need you? Where are you? You are off on your trip doing what you need to do, despite any plea from the likes of me.
Excuses followed by excuses are certainly no foundation for you to stand on when asking me yet again to bail you out. I ask and get nothing. You ask and give nothing but the bile of your disappointments when I say no. Then I am told how to feel.
I have spent most of my life in the position of being minimized by those whose arrogance seems somehow justified. Your role is more important and somehow smarter than anything I could have or ever did. You ask me why I seem so down and then tell me to “get over it”, yet offer nothing. Nothing but cheap lip service words that may have been read from some tabloid article about how to feel better. You use those words to condescend and minimize anything I might be feeling.
You ask who I am. Well, I am a reflection of the crap that has been presented. I am a reflection of the good that has been presented. If I speak of the good with enthusiasm, some attempt to challenge my sexuality with bad jokes about who I am. I have no time any further for those that act or live that way.
I have no more time to be with those who live under a sarcastic umbrella of ridicule. The umbrella that gives shelter from light. Shelter from the light that scares most. They spread their darkness with temporary delight until the next victim is in sight. I loathe you. You, with your manipulation of guilt and remorse. I loathe you who attempt to tell me how to feel. You know NOTHING about who I am. You never will and my armor all though is thick; it is there for the ones who attack and swim in orgasmic glee in the pool of blood drawn from me. May you drown in it. I will not allow you to be reborn in it.
Don’t tell me how I feel. Don’t tell me how I should feel. Ever. You do not have the right. Don’t tell me anything that you can’t back up. From the cradle I have heard how I should be; closed inside parameters that kept me stifled and locked away in an unattainable place. I blame nobody. But now I am at the place where I am get to say… FUCK OFF! No longer listening to the shallow lip service of those who spend their time keeping up appearances. Either put up or shut up. Stop asking of me and then running off to the next possible trend that will give you your insatiable need for failure. You can save your hollow praise. I am no longer the doormat. You are no longer something that is worth my praise. You showed your true colors.
Another thing…take your stereotypes and SHOVE them where someone else might want them. I have no further patience for the homophobes, bigots or racists of any kind. All the hate in that mindset can go to the hell of their making. The hell of the fantastical book of dreams and fantasy.
I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. That is it. No plea for attention. No shallow congratulations, please. I’m tired of talk. Now I will walk away from the ones that have nothing other than words they stole from another book.
Chris…
©2011
All rights reserved
Chris J Hutchins
Dog Hair Productions
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