NINUS' tomb, man!

i've been writing lesbian poetry for about five years now. the point at which i finally felt, after years of writing crap, that i had at least some poetic thing to say and knew somewhat how to say it, was the point at which i started writing lesbian poetry. i can say with pretty much certainty that all the poetry i've written that i'd consider even somewhat good is lesbian.

and STILL this isn't a good enough clue that i might (gasp) actually be gay. nooo, i say to myself. you still have weird, tortured crushes on men you never actually want to be with. you aren't a lesbian--you're a self-loathing bisexual stereotype. and you haven't felt ashamed of yourself enough this last half hour! no more slackin'! go and think about how you're a vainglorious bastard who doesn't do anything right! do i have to cook the noodles for you to lash yourself with myself? (which considering that the "yourself" in that sentence is also "myself" makes it if possible even more confusing.)

i mean, why is it so hard to accept? it's not like i ever really thought i was straight. i still find men attractive, and i wouldn't say no to hooking up with one, but i want to have a girlfriend, not a boyfriend. if it ever gets that far, i want to have a wife, not a husband. i want girls because when it comes right down to it, my personal bio-mentality is set up so that to be with a man romantically would be an experience of safety, secrecy, and soul dulling pain, whereas to be with a woman would be an experience of intensity, passion and fright, sharing...an end to loneliness.

it's not like loneliness isn't the human condition, or that i don't acknowledge that. it's just that i've been finding recently that everything i thought was irrevocably true is less true than i'd expected. not that it's entirely untrue, just that i've been...well, rather bleak-outlooked about it. for instance, yes, everyone's alone, but no, we're not all cut off behind gigantic secretive walls through which the best we can do to contact each other is a pre-Ninny's tomb pyramus-and-thisbe act.

man i hope this sticks. i'm so tired of being dicked around by my own proclivities. people who say that everyone has bisexual tendencies are right, i think, but they aren't me, and haven't tried living in that place for 27 years. i need some part of me, some fact of myself outside the blank meat and bone of me, to be something other than everything.

yeah, try that one on for sentence structure.