I don't want to be known for my writing or clothes.
I want to be known for my anger.
Writing just seems to be the form where examples are the simplest and situations the realest.
My frustration is the fuel which my characters face and just limiting the value of my writing to good prose is Kubrick cutting the end of A Clockwork Orange to make a shallow movie about violence.
My work is my anger and everyone's anger at ignorance at those who will limit anyone to the background.
The further work is not about love, love is the aid to get us through society which we've created, born into and have to struggle with every day.
And love is the fuel, the fuel to the anger which I have to bear for being queer and deviant.
And I am not a love story. I am not something to cry over. I am something which should make you realize if you are at a privileged position that you should make a change, if you are discriminated, that you are not alone, that we should all have this fuel and should never just be limited to love.
Because our anger is valid.
We became our anger, so that the love will not only nourish us now, but later when all is done and we are no longer deviant to a society who hates itself.
Jamie. Gay. Genderfluid. Polyamorous.
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Jamie still makes more margaritas.
“What are you, seventeen to be mixing alcohol later on, Jamie?” I smirk at him, as we stay inside, Jamie sulking that he can’t flirt with Jack, but he doesn’t appear in his garden anyway, as he’s too busy cooking and I wonder how Karen actually is.
“But do you think he’s interested in men?” Jamie is oblivious to the glance he had given me, as we walked away and I just moan to myself about it, feeling some undisclosed desire coming from his side to taint another wife. I shift in the sofa, Jamie angrily drinking and thinking about his own love life, which apparently he wouldn’t mind a cheater. Doesn’t look like he was open about being polyamorous. I groan. I don’t even answer Jamie’s question as I muse on Jack’s infidelity, as I wonder if it’s even fair, what if he was just an asshole but Karen was aware of his polyamory, then an open relationship is fine, as long a I know-
"tea is just leaf water!" "yeah well coffee is just bean water!" wow, it’s. it’s like...
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