The most special man the world will ever know was born. A man of great inspiration. A man of inexplicable talent. A man of beauty, inside & out. A man who teaches people to believe in the power of hard work & dreams. A man who deserves all the happiness life has to give.
Wishing you a fantastic 43rd birthday, Jared. May you have many, many more creative journeys, dreams fulfilled & years of love, laughter & light to come. xoxo
It is a Saturday night. I am at a party where I do not belong,
half blinded by eight shots of bootlegged whiskey.
I am a hot, fresh seventeen. The boy I want
to stop wanting whispers that I should kiss a woman.
For him. He points one out. She is dancing,
four feet in the air with her hands on the ceiling.
A bartender is looking up her skirt. This
is the story of how I fingered a stranger on,
and promptly fell from, the bar at Alpha Gamma Rho.
When I wake, sore and cloudy in the boy’s arms,
it seems that I can no longer masquerade as a straight woman.
A sprained ankle hurts like a mother
who delivers blind condemnations.
It is too easy to stay quiet, to hide your weekends
from a Catholic family. It is too easy to kiss girls
at frat parties, to let whiskey be your social justice,
to exchange a woman you love in the evening
for a masculine hand to hold by daylight.
Do not let the movies fool you—
a night like this does not taste like the revolution.
It tastes like Jameson, like vomit, and a little
like a speechless car ride with your mother. It tastes like too many
almost-sentences, like jokes without punchlines.
Tastes like so much talk of phases that even your reflection
looks like the least honest lunar eclipse you’ve ever seen.
Tastes like the last time you saw
that boy who left you, the God-fearing one
you don’t talk about anymore; how he spat his love
onto your shoes when you told him what you were, like he thought
maybe your sense of self worth needed shining.
Tastes like a poster in a boy’s bedroom of two women
covered in soap who paw at each other but stare at the camera.
Two women who grope at the love of a spectator
they will never need to meet. It is a joke without a punchline:
Two women climb onto a bar. One falls off.
They both go home with boys.
I’m really sorry I couldn’t make a better post for your special day, but I had to delete Photoshop from my computer. I even knew the type of post I wanted to make you, but I’m so sad I couldn’t make it. Anyway, I remember seeing you on my T.V. during the opening ceremony. I was really excited to hear that the Philippines was in the Olympics and when they did a close up on you I was like “Daaamnn” lol okay. Anyway, I remember learning more about you and when I found out that it was really hard for your family to finance your skating and how you had to fight through asthma, it made me like you even more. I’m so happy that you are still able to do what you love. I also so proud of all the things you have accomplished and I can’t wait for what is in stored for you in the future. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the new Olympic Chamipion (: Anyway, I hope you have a great day! Love you ♡
I love Aizen, apart from being extremely good looking I love that he’s the bad guy, and he’s so good at it. He knows exactly how to mess with people’s heads and knows exactly what to say to set them off, he is the perfect villian and I think it’s amazing how in Bleach everything goes back to him, and usually because he is the main cause of it. I also love Aizen because he has a goal, he knows what he’s going to do and he’s not even finished yet and I can’t wait for the day when he comes back in the manga to fuck stuff up again.