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I need you to listen for  just a second. I don’t care if you only shop at thrift stores. And I don’t care if you read nothing but classic novels. It is not important to me whether you are thirteen or thirty four, foreign or native, thin or overweight. I will not judge you. It does not matter to me what kind of haircut you have, what sort of statement you’re making while you lead a vegan lifestyle or if you love steaks and fried eggs. Love sex, hate drugs, do cocaine, listen to Simon and Garfunkel. I’m not interested in how superior your taste in underground music is. I couldn’t care less if you’re wearing urban outfitters jeans, thrifted shoes or a Hollister polo. It is not important to me whether you are a writer, a dreamer, a painter, a gas station clerk, or if you’re living off food stamps. I don’t give a shit if you’re a hippie, a half-assed hipster, an atheist, a devoted Muslim, Christian, wealthy, dirty, homeless, Jewish, Buddhist, a smother, a drunker, clean, or shy. I will not judge you. It doesn’t matter to how extensive your vocabulary may be, which independent films you’ve seen, what books you’ve read, how high your IQ is. I will still open the door for you. I promise. And I will let you sit near me if another seat is unavailable. Even if you don’t like what I believe in and even if I disagree with some of your ideas. I will fucking respect you. I will offer you some common decency and not because it’s right, and not because you deserve it, but because that is what makes sense to me. This is what has always made sense to me. I’m a shadow. Neurotic, opaque, an drunk with fascination. I’m your friend. And you don’t have to impress me. Because I’m not here to impress you.

via Londe despoir.

Popularity: 5% [?]

J…a fellow cancer patient, passed away Friday. We buried her today. Before she passed, on the Wednesday before, actually, she wrote me a letter. But I wasn't the only one she wrote to…….

Hey Bitch — I died.

Wow, that actually almost sounds bad! I've said all I need to say to you for now. I'm going to leave a message for the other people in your life. Please share it with them:

Sis – Get your shit together! There is nothing wrong with having a man who ain't worth a damn. But when he destroys what little YOU have, he needs to eat some pavement! Love YOU! In the end, you are all the fuck you got! Trust me! I'm there!

Brother – Dude, grow a set! Get out of Mama's house! I know you think it's hopeless but it's only that way if YOU let someone steal your hope! And that shit ain't free! Nothing is…except this advice.

Mama – You have to to be the single most worthless mother on Earth when it comes to loving another human being – especially your children! You have fucked them up so royally it's shameful! Emily is one of the best people I know but she will never believe me…because of you! From the rest of the world, I'd like to flip you the bird and say, "Fuck off."

Daddy – I know you and I have a negative history tainted by your losses to me in poker. I am clearly superior to you but you keep trying. I know now where your daughter gets it. I hope you know that you are one of the only men Emily will ever love. And that is a reflection of the other men in the world…but it's more about you. You have fucked up royally, owned up to the bullshit and moved on. Fucking BRAVO to you!! If I could stand, I wouldn't.. you know why. But YAY for you anyway! You a'ight to me.

Monica – Do your best. You know you've been through your worst. You cool.

Brandy – Go to Hell in a slow and painful manner. You are the biggest idiot walking erect on two legs. You lost her…you fail at existing! Leave her alone or I will make your life hell.

Reilly – I thought you'd wise up and be braver than you are. Fear takes too much energy. Buck up! Be strong! You're going to be a great catch…if you'd stop running in the wrong direction! Sit still…she's coming…STAY where you are." 

FTD - Die. That is all.

And now we come to the last and most important person…The New Chick…

    Honest to God, if you're not "the one", that sort of thing doesn't exist. I have loved this woman for almost a year now from the privacy of my own heart. I will never kiss her, hold her, or tell her that I love her. That is your job now. Take care of our girl, okay? It's all you now. She has a self-esteem problem. Fix that, would ya? She's beautiful and has no fucking clue. She's ashamed of her past and of wanting more from her future. She has a lot of guilt over being the only person with her disease and still not being dead yet! Take care of that. When you kiss her, touch her face…she says she loves that. Tell her you miss her, love her, want her, need her, and you think she's beautiful as often as you can think to. At random times. At inappropriate times. Times you really should and times you really shouldn't no matter who's around or who isn't. Every day. Because I promise she will do these things for you. That's just Em. If you fuck up, give her chocolate and kisses.. and repeat as necessary. Do not hang up on her! Do not go to bed mad at her. Do not think she will sleep if she goes to bed mad. She has a heart of gold and an ego of glass. She is easily hurt and very jealous. Do not test either of these!! Unless you want to lose her. Do not challenge her too much but don't give in on everything. Kiss her and do it slowly. When you finally do get to hold her "like that"…go slowly…don't rush. Watch her, listen to her, and really, really make sure you pay attention. She is beautiful when she forgets she's being watched. Be good to her or I will find out and come back. Love her well. Love her long. Love her the way I did…but in every way I didn't. She will be the best thing that ever happened to you. In case you don't know, she already is.

Now, for you. It's very simple. Don't change for anyone other than yourself. You are not perfect, remember…you're perfectly you. And I know I never told you but…I love you.

J

Although it wasn't "like that"….I loved you, too, J.

Em

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Your candor in living this, writing it out, and sharing it is….stunning. Not in a "bad way", mind you. I found myself reading it and thinking, "Yep, she's gonna get plastered." (like most folks might) And then, when you called for weed, I was thinking, "Well, dang, she went a bit further than I thought she would!" Then, I didn't think you smoke it. Then I didn't think you'd TELL US you smoked it! But when I kept reading, I found my jaw (which had dropped on the puff-puff-pass part) closing and a smile slowly spreading. And suddenly I saw something in you that I saw (and still see) in myself. If you need proof that what I'm about to say is true, I offer this: I've kicked cancer's ass 4 times (and am currently fighting my 5th fight with it), died 3 times (clinically dead), had one should-have-been-fatal car accident, was beaten (and sexually assaulted), and grew up gay as a two-dollar bill in backwoods Alabama.

YOU are the blessing, Chantelle. Sometimes God puts us through things to teach us something. Sometimes He puts us through things to teach others. There is a young woman out there right now reading this who has been cut from her basketball team and feels useless. Or who's been told she "can't" do something. Someone who feels hopeless, helpless, and stuck. I guarantee you, after reading this, that burden is lifted just a bit…for just a moment.

I used to think God was this being we had to look up to or someone we must beg things out of. Then there were days I questioned that there was anything there at all. Going past Christianity, Catholicism, and every other religion, I can tell you there's got to be something higher than me. Bigger than you. More wonderful than love, sex, good food,…and weed (and definitely better than vodka). The thing is, we all must realize that this "being" isn't detached. It's under your skin.

Every religion on this planet celebrates our connection with the Higher Being (I'll call it God for now). What is lost in translation, sometimes, is that we're a part of it. When you hurt, the body of God hurts with you. When you need strength, the body of God will cover you. And when you need a good beat-down, the body of God will sustain until Truth breaks through.

God doesn't give you more than you can handle because you don't handle it alone. Oh yes, you will feel alone. You will even "see" that you're the only one in the middle of your living room floor, writhing in emotional pain, and crying tears whose sound was choked by fear. But you are not. You were not.

I am living, breathing, very pale-skinned proof that my life does not belong to me. I have had ample reason and opportunity to lose it. But since I know my life doesn't belong to me, I don't have a right to end it. It doesn't just belong to God, mind you. It belongs to a girl in GA who makes me laugh without trying. To a woman who lives in Chi-town and dances like a silly fool—with abandon and very little shame. To a man in Phoenix who shares his life and his humor with a gentle hand and searing eyes (when you're wearing the right top). To a woman who can palm a basketball, strut better than most, and laughs with ease at herself and everything else. To those who read my writing, inspire my designs, and feel my hugs. I do not belong to myself. I am responsible for me…but there are those who trust me to do what I can to be there when they want to laugh, dance, flirt, play ball, read, critique…and need a hug.

And if you ever need to remember that…if you ever need a reason outside yourself to go on, think of one name…one person in your life…any random person. An opponent who's a friend…your dentist…your dad…anyone. And let their life be an example for you. Not things they've done with that life….the fact that they have a life at all. The fact that they breathe. The fact that they might look to you for something, anything, to tell them it's okay to hurt…to cry… to bend. Remember, through them, that the body of God won't let you break. And if you have to….I'm Emily. You can think of me.

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The other day I was asked what religion I am.  My answer was, "I don't really have a religion."  I got a confused look in return and explained that I'm not a church-going person of any particular faith.  I am spiritual, not religious. What follows is based SOLELY on my own knowledge and experience and is strictly MY personal belief:

Every religion on Earth, regardless of origin, has 4 basic principles, no matter what entity is in charge of that religion.  The power you believe to be "in charge" has a message for you that is at the root of your religion and this is what he/she/it is saying to you:

1.  I love you.

2.  Be good to yourself and others and the world around you.

3.  I'll be with you again some day.

4.  It may take a while.

Jesus, Buddha, Allah, etc., all have the same 4 messages (as far as I can tell).  And I believe that as long as you just believe these 4 things, everything else is up for interpretation.  Everything else religion is based on is hearsay.  I didn't see the burning bush, did you?

So..yeah…that's what I believe.  Comment if'n ya wanna.

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