I remember when I first realized I was gay; I remember the torrent black
rivers of molten tar pouring down my adolescent face -- the tears steaming
into oblivion and the sinking singularity deep within my emotional self. I
remember hearing my father's words echoing within the psychological hall
which is my skull, bouncing off memories and feelings, snowballing into the
absolute definitive of Hell. I knew all too well how my father despised fags.
I knew all too well his deep-set religious beliefs. I remembered my father's
rantings concerning the demon-like nature of queers. And I knew above all
else that I was alone in this Hell. I was ten years old and knew I had a
demonic secret that must be hidden from the world.
It's easy to feel sorry for yourself. It's easy to blame the ignorance and
cold-heartedness of humanity for your own depression. It's easy to blame your
parents, your schools, your government.
But I was ten and I had no realization that there was even blame to be placed.
All I knew in my pathetic extreme youth was I was sick; that I was broken.
I tried to understand my thoughts; tried to force them to make sense.
I thought back upon my brief existence as a human searching for causes which
could rationally explain my deviance. I believed barely-remembered games of
'doctor' as a much younger child had corrupted me. I believed God had
forsaken me. I believed I was destined for Hell.
It's funny how thoughts can simmer on the stove of perpetual silence -- how
emotions can quell behind the dike invisibly until they burst like so many
daggers stabbing through your self-control. You awaken at night, moist
from the thin sweat covering your body -- you have goose-bumps with a fever
and can't take your mind off Hell. You almost cry out in the emotional pain
but stop yourself only to stop the embarrassment of discovery. Instead you
lay your head back down and whimper, slowly crying your way back to happier
Eventually my feelings were too strong to contain, and I would allow my mind
the freedom to explore unspeakable fantasies at will, and I would cry silently
after the illustrious thoughts drew to a conclusion from guilt and depression.
I feared my nightly routine of sleep and the deathly hell-bound dreams God sent
me; I feared Satan's sugary smile pulling me into the darkest depths of Hell's
ineffable pain, and I feared God for laughing at me as I failed time and time
again to find His camouflaged path.
I wanted God to understand me. I wanted to be good and righteous. I wanted
to be forgiven of my uncleanliness and bow down humbly before the alter of God
and be worshiped by less holy men as the new savior of religious piety.
I became an absolute asshole, a true monster for a righteous cause. I was the
template for radical right-wing activism. I was devout and judgmental.
I tried to became the perfect Christian. Instead I became the perfect monster,
dealing half-truths and twisted scriptures designed for one purpose alone:
To condemn all who would stand before me. I set out to ensure the entire
world would be joining me in Hell.
Then, at the pinnacle of self-righteous ignorance, a girl found me and saw
through my pathetic skin of xenophobic loathing. A magical girl in her
own solipsistic ideal of humanity willing to truly befriend me.
"I know what your secret is."
"What?" My heart raced like no time before -- I could feel the icy sweat
sweeping down my neck and pouring over my face, for I knew what she was
speaking of. I knew the terror she was about to unleash.
I asked again more earnestly: "What?"
She looked at me, her eyes gleaming a silver gleam I had never expected. A
comforting mischievous smile which somehow put me at ease. "I'll tell you
And then, like a magical Dr. Seuss novel with puffy pink aliens she came me
out to her, my mind jumping hopscotch at her non-judgmental display and
dancing in hypnotic new patterns of thought never before encountered --
red fish! blue fish! ecstasy and joy! I had reached the pinnacle of
I was saved!
It's easy to feel sorry for yourself. It's easy to blame the ignorance and
cold-heartedness of humanity for your own depression. It's easy to blame
your parents, your schools, your government. It's easy to blame just about
anyone but yourself. This is a natural defensive mechanism.
This keeps us alive.
So I opened my mind to the totalitarian grip Christianity held over the
world's peasant population. I opened my mind to the Hellish condition
gay youth spend eternity in thanks to the Republicans. I was righteous --
I was pure. I had a Purpose, a Cause. I was the total victim for having
such pathetic blind faith indoctrinated into me as a child.
I became an Activist.
"Where did I go wrong, your honor? What could I have done? What would
have been acceptable?? Why am I on trial!?"
The judge smiles upon me licking his pouty red lips, waiting patiently for
the killing verdict. His body transmutes now between the jury and his previous
form of insidious judgemental bliss causing an electric hum of blue static
electricity to raise all the hairs on my body. He is me and he is an absolute
monstrosity. I snicker at this mental judge and close my eyes in thought.
I know me and the judge is me -- how could I ever set myself free?
I had changed once. I morphed from a fragile Christian boy into a wise sage
of liberal determination. Why did it seem so unbelievable that I could
change again? -- morph into yet another incarnation of seeking reeking
logic? That was my only error, my only sin -- to believe I knew Truth.
Those were good times, the days of my 16th and 17th years held warm air and
sunny skies with thousands of clouds just begging to be destroyed.
I was saved, after all -- born again in youthful liberalism! I was good and
I set out to do good. I avoided judgment, respected opinions,
and recycled hundreds of disgusting cans and glass and paper for the good of the
environment. My moral had compass reversed polarity toward the
thoughtless cow that is obedience.
I dedicated my life to the left.
The judge interrupts me, snearing from his goatee'd lips:
"You had a Purpose? The great DranoK had a Truth!?" His lips curl
in a silent laugh mocking me, the sarcasm dripping orangy corrosive
drivil from the sides of his mouth.
"Please, do continue."
It was hard, your honor -- that much you must understand. It wasn't a
cop-out to become a liberal. Doing so forced me to distance my parents
and stand up for what I believed. I had to choose the ethically correct
decision! It was not a cop-out!! It was hard being a socially liberal
"So your first Truth crushed you latched onto the first paradigm your
worm-like mind could comprehend. You pathetically lobotomized your own
mind to save yourself the trouble of independent thought. You disgust
I was a happy lobotomized liberal. I was content in my superiority. It
took a girl to destroy my first Truth; it took a boy to destroy the second.
My boyfriend didn't believe in Truth. He despised the entire notion of
blind faith. I thought him silly, selfish. I mocked his inability to
feel compassion to the most simplistic political notions.
But then I started to read. I read anything I could get my hands on,
the new content swimming through my conscious fish-bowl feeding on the
uncomprehendable beauty of infinite modes of thought. I saw not one reality
but a plurality of paradigms. I had found what I thought I was
My mind had finally woken.
Ginsberg, Blake, Burroughs, Whitman, Rimbaud -- these became my mentors.
And as I read I could feel new thoughts emerging, thoughts which had been
suppressed by the slavery of social evolution. Thoughts which were not
tolerated by humanity's delusional reality. I realized the futility
I became a neo-nihilist, born yet again into the new light of no light. I
could see the blinders which faith wore; I could see the pathetic lobotomy
of pure liberalism -- I could see the idiocy in ascribing to Truth -- any
Truth. I saw how pathetic Purpose was. I saw five billion ants scrambling
around wretched trash-filled nations searching for whatever God they could
find; billions of ants fighting for domination of what Truth would be.
Billions of ants blinded by the simplistic notion that they could see.
Billions of ants squirming in self-delusion and filthy selfish psychotic
altruism. I saw five billion ants who all resembled me.
"So you realize why you're on trial, then? Commendable. But don't think
that will save you."
The judge stood and slammed the wooden judgment stick down on the most sensitive
part of social reality. He cleared his throat and spoke with absolute
"The jury has reached its final judgment."
Scores of demon shadowy imps screamed explicatives over the bench, prodding
the judge on to smile a devilish smile and bear the full sight of his
blood-dripping teeth for the first time. His forked tongue lashed over these
ivory temples hungerly waiting to feed. His eyes glowed a purple fire
from the deepest depths of my inner furnace.
"You have abused every reality you were given, destroyed every Truth and
isolated yourself from all your loving peers. You are not worthy to believe,
nor content to hallucinate our common vision. You are destined to your
own self-induced fate.
"I therefore sentence you to unimaginable uncertainty -- I sentence you to have
no belief, no Purpose, no Truth. You will never again know the delicious taste
of pathetic rational reality."
The hammer struck down once more and all was silent. For a brief second all
my thoughts stopped and gave me one perpetual moment of peace. I had been
condemned to my fate.
I awake to the pale light of an office ceiling. Is this it? Is this the
end? Is there nothing more to tell?
Believing in no Truth is simply another reflection of believing in any Truth. I
wear the same blinders Christians do, the same blinders liberals do, the same blinders that will forever enslave all humanity. I am no different. I am
So many years spent trying to escape humanity, only to realize my prison was with me all along. Even DranoK could never escape the evolved biology of mankind.