By Jeff Walsh
With his acoustic album "Motorcycle Childhood," Tyson Meade uses spare arrangement and raw vocals to share details of his life. It's very different from his other role as the openly gay lead singer of the Chainsaw Kittens, where he used to take to the stage in lipstick, tights and mini-skirts.
By Janis Ian
In a small town somewhere at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains, teachers prepare for the coming semester. Professors grimly consult lesson plans, breaking in new Dockers ("I still wear the same size I wore when I graduated," they brag, bellies hanging over their straining waistlines like blubber off Ahab's whaler). Dormitories are surrounded by troops of exterminators bent on eradicating last year's mess before the health department shows up for a final check. The grounds are infested with newly arrived victims, ready to give the university their all and terrified that anything beyond the boundaries of the parents' homes will eat them alive. If they only knew.
By Janis Ian
I am standing with my tit caught in a wringer while a mall-haired technician tells me to relax. I am thinking that if men had to put their testicles in a vise as part of a yearly physical, we would have a cure for the common cold by now. I am very frightened.
The pink slip came as we were leaving on vacation: "We have found what appears to be a routine abnormality..." What's routine about an abnormality? I decide to put on a brave front and joke that in all my life no one has ever called me routine; then I burst into tears. Later on I do the grown-up thing and panic, furtively examining my breasts in the mirror for changes. I'm afraid that if I touch them to check for lumps, I will set something off. I wish they were smaller. I wish they were removable. I wish they were on anyone but me.
Over the last few years, I've been trying to assert my identity and I've run into some problems as a gay black male. I don't seem to exist. At least not in the sense of having a visible and accessible community to fall back on. During the entirety of my coming out and my identity development process I've understood this to en extend but still tried to explore the communities open to me. At the time that I was coming out this meant exploring gayness and getting a feeling for gay culture. I failed at joining some type of larger gay community in high school or finding a group with any strong gay identity (except for this one youth center) and I had no idea how to incorporate my gayness and blackness.
Have you ever gotten that one phone call where everything stops and all u can hear is your heart racing and the other person
As I write these words I am seething towards my parents.
I don't even like that word for them.
Granted there are worse.
However, my mother's control issues piss me off to no end.
I'm 18 years of age. I can legally vote, smoke, buy porn and rent a hotel room.
I cannot, however, take walks at night. Go anywhere alone. Use public transit. She expects the school to call if I don't show up to my 7:00 AM class (when school starts ay 8:00) because I might have died on the way there.
First of all, I really (and I hate to ask for this, here or anywhere, but it is a necessity) need a livejournal code. If anyone has an extra one (or something. I'm not 100% sure how the code thing works) and would be willing to give it to a stranger in need, email me at email@example.com.
Aside from that, some random snippety drabble things I have written recently:
Did you every cry so hard you soul bled out I never have but I think I would very much like too and I never cry it is almost a physical impossiblity for me and why does it hurt so much to not hurt numbness is never good and I
I can count how many times I felt cool since puberty on one hand, but today, I realized just how cool I am. I won