The Good Things

I am constantly amazed at the power of human beings. Truly. I am amazed at how warm the hand of a complete stranger can be, reaching out. This is the post I was going to put up last night, but I'm glad I held off because now I have even more amunition to build the case that there are truly beautiful selfless people in the world.

I'll start with the most recent stuff. I want to give huge thanks to both Kiss Tony and Tristan for featuring State the Radio on their blogs, and for their comment. It is humbling to be the recipient of such anonymous generosity and kindness, and it really makes me feel good to know that connections can be so easily made between people when the need is there. Going to bed feeling like shit sucks, nobody likes that, but when you wake up to a simple act of kindness and care such as that, you can't help but know that the day is going to be brighter. I strongly encourage people to check out both Kiss Tony's blog [http://kisstony.blogspot.com/], and Tristan's blog [http://thegenesischildren.wordpress.com/], especially if you are a gay teen looking for some proof that other people like you exist in the world.

The original idea for this post came from a conversation I had with rightmeupnow. We were talking about how the little tiny things, the completely unknown hands reaching out from the darkness to try and pull you up, can mean so much more than alot of people think. A smile from a stranger can be the difference between a shitty day and an ok day, and a simple compliment can pull somebody from the edge of hopelessness. Rightmeupnow and I both know this from experience, and I'm sure there are many people out there who have experienced these "random acts" of kindness before and have had their days brightened up by total strangers.

I won't ramble on with the details of every single time I've been impressed by the simple kindness of human beings, but I will share the story I shared with rightmeupnow during our conversation. There's not much to it, really, but I guess thats sort of the point: I had been having a rough couple of days, and I was sitting in Spanish class one morning and the teacher came up to me out of the blue and asked (in Spanish) if I was ok. This is a teacher I have always admired for her bright personality and genuine interest in the wellbeing of her students, but even so I was surprised by this; I hadn't really thought I'd been acting any differently than normal. I was surprised, and I was touched by the fact that she was perceptive enough to notice the minute change in character I must have had. All she said was "estás bien?" meaning roughly "are you ok?", but she kind of kneeled down next to my chair and said it quietly. She wasn't creepy about it or anything, and she didnt act like it was a big deal, she just asked and didn't persue the point when I said "sí, estoy bien". What was really humbling, though, was that the next week she came up to me again and, smiling, said that I looked better this week and that she was glad. She didn't say anything else, didn't ask questions, she just made the quiet comment and then continued on with the class.

I can't help but feel deeply moved by such selfless caring. I think that is probably the characteristic I admire most among people, and to me these people are angels in their own right. Many people who have an impact on somebody in this way will probably never know how much they affected the person they complimented or smiled at or talked to, yet it really can make a world of difference to a person who is struggling.

It doesn't have to be anonymous of course. I can't count the number of times that I have had my day brightened by rightmeupnow, simply asking how I'm doing or even just talking to me about any old subject.

There is a State Radio song that goes, "people to people are so unjust..." While I think that this is true all over the world in many situations, there are also countless unheard and untold examples of people doing a simple justice to someone else. It is important to remember that when somebody is falling, they don't look at the hands that are reaching down to grab them, but instead reach back and clasp those hands with all their strength.

So please, keep this in mind. If you ever find yourself in a position of being able to reach out a hand, know that that simple gesture can make all the difference.

And on a final note, we'd really love to hear any stories of anonymous kindness and generosity that you readers might have, whether it be something that somebody has said or done to you to brighten your day up, or something you've witnessed or heard about. If you have a story and feel like sharing, send it to statetheradio@gmail.com. It would be cool to start a page of "anonymous kindness experiences" or something to that effect.

[see the State the Radio blog here http://statetheradio.wordpress.com/ for this post in full context]

Dedicated to...

I was actually going to write a happy little post about how awesome people are, because I was in that kind of mood. “was” being the key word. Instead, I’m gonna post something I found on an ancient relic of a website that hasn’t been updated for 10 years. I’ve been listening to a song that my friend wrote and we recorded recently, and even though its a rough mix, for some reason listening to that song while I was reading this archaic website clicked something inside.

The website is about a boy that killed himself. This is his suicide note, as posted by the website:

Dear Alex,
It’s difficult to know where to start,
but I’ll do it by saying sorry. I’m sorry I
left you, I’m sorry I broke the promise. You
helped me so much, but when pain reaches the
limit it all means nothing. You know that.
Next I want to say thank you. You
dedicated your life to me, and I failed. You
were my shoulder to cry on. You got me off the
sh*t, but here I sit pumped full of it. I’m
not as strong as you.
I have written a note to my mum telling
her everything. I wanted her to know how much
you helped me.
Sorry, and I love you.

Darren

According to the website, it was written by a mid-teen to his boyfriend, on Friday, February 6th, 1998 . The website, created about 9 months after the boy Darren killed himself, was created by Alex, to whom the letter is addressed. The website goes on to explain that he [Alex] believes the reason Darren killed himself was because of all the shit he took about his homosexuality, but also says that it never was, and never will be, really clear. It can’t be doubted, however, that the abuse he took because of his sexual orientation had some part in it.

I can’t begin to describe how furious and sad this makes me. It reminds me horribly of a kid I knew very briefly named Max who killed himself.

I have a quote, which I have written inside every notebook I known and have now memorized, that embodies this. I’m having difficulty articulating at the moment, so I’ll end this post with that quote:

“We are a special people, surviving a silent holocaust. I cannot tell you how many bright youngsters I know, both directly and indirectly, that have taken their own lives because they were not heterosexual. Those people who push these bright kids to extinguish their own flame far before their time, they are evil beyond human measure. And those silent souls who die sad and alone, they are the true angels of the world.”

Kicking Things Off

Is there any justification to be ashamed of who you are? My brain tells me no, but its very difficult to believe that sometimes. Is there any justification to doubt the choices you once made with unmovable conviction? My brain tells me that it is always ok to have a little doubt; so why do I feel so horrible about doubting myself? Why do I feel like I am betraying little 4th grade me? Why do I feel like I am betraying my parents, my family, my friends? I am trying to be proud of who I am, trying to trust in the decisions I have made while at the same time lamenting the fact that I know I made wrong decisions and its too late to correct these. [The rest of this post is probably going to dissolve into a major vent, so you could probably get off just reading the first line of each paragraph or something]

I want to be proud that I am gay, I want to see it as a unique and interesting, but socially insignificant trait of character. Fuck you mom and dad, fuck you little brother, fuck you to almost all of my friends. I've been told that if I came out to all of these people, they would still love me and treat me with respect, and that I'm only hurting myself by keeping the secret. Honestly, as much as I would love to believe this, I have a damn hard time with it.
My parents are already distant, they don't know much that goes on in my life, and they are hopelessly naive in that they still believe everything is fine and dandy; they haven't noticed me struggling and they haven't noticed my little brother struggling (though to their credit, they have had their hands full worrying about my disabled older brother and the worsening conditions of my various grandparents). In addition, I know for a fact that my mom is a homophobe. My dad probably wouldnt care so much, but what shaky relationship strings I have still tied to my mom would definitely be strained.
My younger brother's favorite insult is "gay" or "queer". He's a typical teenage little brother, but I've always felt as though he should have been the one born first, if that makes sense. He's three years yonger than me, but he takes after my dad's side of the family, whereas I take after my mom's. He's broad-shouldered, naturally athletic, sharp, and tall. I'm thin in comparison, I don't have much muscle mass, and its only gonna be a few more months before little bro is taller than I am. He can easily push me around and I can't do much but throw a snide remark. Sometimes we get along really well, but mostly we are at eachother's throats. I simply can't believe that, were he to find out I'm gay, he wouldn't use it as a weapon against me.
My friends are probably the most forgiving of the lot, and I'm still terrified of telling the majority of them. I know most of them probably would continue to treat with respect, but I know at least a few that would definitely not want to hang around with me any more.

On a completely different note (wait for it!), my life outside of school consists almost entirely of music (and there's the pun). I love listening to music, playing music, absorbing music. If I could do nothing but music all day, I would. [I wish I could bleed music, that would make my various self-harming habits so much more enjoyable] I can't imagine giving up music. I don't think I could do it. And yet, my future-planning skills have failed miserably; I don't really see any way that I will be able to continue music during college, because, thanks to my parents, I have applied to only a few schools, and almost all of them are very prestigious schools that require exclusive focus on the major of choice. My parents think I'm going into biology or perhaps pre-med. Neither of those would allow me to continue my goals, which include playing mysic for at least an hour a day. I simply wouldnt have the down time to do that.
And I cannot believe how I got talked out of applying to a single music school. I'm not applying to any conservatory or school of music... I'm such a tool.

Oh and did I mention I'm going deaf? Slowly. My ears ring constantly. Don't worry, I don't listen to my ipod at 300000 decibels for 6 hours a day. I locked my ipod volume at 1/4 its full potential, and then make a point of never turning it up past half that again. My ears ring, and the ringing gets louder and louder every week, because I play the fiddle/violin, and the way a fiddle is played projects sound directly into the musician's left ear. My particular fiddle (a gorgeous Italian with a beautifully bright sound, built in 2001, for anybody that cares) projects sound particularly well, so 15 minutes of playing is plenty enough to make my ears ring. I mute the fiddle with a bandana shoved under the chinrest, but it doesn't work very well and when I'm performing with my band, I have to be amplified.
The benefit of ear ringing is nearly-perfect relative pitch, since my ears ring at discernible and fairly constant pitches.

Finally, I'm worried sick about a couple of my friends in particular. Just a few months ago I discovered that the most amazing person I know, a girl I have been friends with for a long time, is bulimic and severly depressed, occasionally suicidal, and just not in a good place.

Complain complain complain, there are people that have it much worse off. Like I think I mentioned, I want to talk to people who are in a similar situation or who can connect in some way to what I've been rambling about. If you feel like talking, contact me, either through a comment or through email [statetheradio@gmail.com]. If you don't have anything better to do, you can follow me and my good friend on our venting blog at http://statetheradio.wordpress.com/

Thanks for reading.