I recently had a traumatic experience with a homosexual. A bakla. I’d rather not go into details. Suffice it to say that I felt quite violated and helpless, to think that I was doing that person a favor. No, I was not touched, but he got very close to my comfort zone and it happened very close—too close to home.
Anyway. As I was relating the story to my friends, hoping for support, another gay guy, albeit from my circle of friends, blurted out; asking if I was gay. I said no. He followed up with a couple of other fairly offensive questions. I played it down. Played it off. But in the state my mind was in. I was offended and disturbed. I have trusted friends who are either openly gay, or have doubtful sexualities. It didn’t use to bother me. But at the time, I began to doubt their worth.
I had decided to keep close those who I already had, but seal off any new acquaintances with shady preferences. I’m no manly man, what a friend called maton. But I wanted my distance from these people.
Today, Tumblr turned Purple. Or violet. What’s the difference? I knew that it was wear purple day, but I didn’t know that Tumblr would be supporting. Anyway. As I said, I’m cool with homosexuality. I was reading the different posts about it and found out what this was all about: Bullies.
SPITE THEM ALL TO HELL.
I grew up different. I was not the sporty, manly type in an exclusive, all-boys school. I wrote while others wrestled. I drew while others raced. I was poor in a very posh setting. I was chubby, and then turned obese due to a medical condition back when I was young. It ruined my skin. The bullies ruined my ego. But they made me strong. It’s just that I didn’t know that yet.
Even now, more than a decade later, their words still affect me. I still feel excluded naturally even without tangible reason. Laughs still go slow-mo in my mind when I think that people might have been laughing at me. I still wear sleeves to cover my arms and tight undershirts to bind my flabs when I can—when the weather allows. I’m still very defensive, attack-dog-style, almost when I let my guard down. Or is it when I leave it up? I’m not so sure which is which anymore. But, on the other hand, these misguided, badly brought up, uneducated misfits have inspired me to do great things, perhaps even more than some of my friends.
With my friends, we accept each others’ weaknesses. Cover for it, in fact. Sometimes, they are who I escape to for that very purpose—to be weak. In times when I need strength, I don’t think what my mom would think. I don’t think how proud this person or that person might be. I think of the evil laughs, the back talks, the envy, the greed, the want the bullies might feel.
I don’t know if that’s good, but it works for me. So, ass holes, thank you. I will conquer the world because of you. I have conquered you, and will annihilate you because of you. Your downfall is actually your own doing.