Homophobia Is Gay
1)
“Fag!” The toughnts fill my brain all day.
That’s my name. Gerard doesn’t exsist anymore. Gerard Way is dead.
No one calls me my name anymore. I’ve heard even teachers talking about me they call me ‘The Fag.’ or ‘That gay boy.’ I get use to it. Every one does it. It’s just life isn’t it.
I guess I shouldn’t have ‘come out’ as it’s callled, ‘stay in the cubard’. Be afraid. It’s my own fault and I know that. I should be just like everyone else and think the way other people think. I can’t help that I don’t.
I have tried, God knows I have tried.
But I just can’t. Things I’ve been told to think and feel aren’t right. I hate that. I want to like girls. I’ve tried to look at them and like them. But nothing there attrakes me to them. They just don’t do anything for me. They can look pretty and all, but theres no spark or anything. Then when I look at people like Frank, my brothers best friend, I can feel fireworks going off. He’s sweet funny and looks like he’s been calved my angels. He’s beautiful.
I can’t act on those feeling though. He would be branded for life, although he’s not gay, to be liked by a gay would be just be as bad. I don’t want his life to turn out like mine. To be alone and feel scared, all alone, and to feel like life isn’t worth living.
He’s not the most popular person in school, and sometimes he sees me at school. I feel pleased when he sees me, because he’s risking being called a ‘Fag.’
“Fag!” I feel a samich thrown at my head. Why is it always me. I know it’s my fault, but I wish they’d leave me alone.
I know I’m going to be alone all my life, I just wish they’ed leave me to get on with it.
First day of the last year of high school today and already I’ve had Fag! Shouted at me about 6 times and a samich thrown, I’ve only been at school for about a minute.
This is was what the rest of the school was going to be like for the rest of the year. I couldn’t take it, not this next year. Four years it’s been going on and this is it. If I can go down one corridor with out being hit, ounched, had food thrown at me or been called a fag, I wouldn’t do it. I thought if I could go down just one corridor it would be okay.
I turnd down the polished corridor. It was busy full of people catching up with friends they hadn’t seen in ages, getting books out of lockers and comparing timetables. The more I looked down it the longer it seemed.
I took my first step.
My converses squeked on the floor.
Second step.
My breathing got a bit faster.
Thired step.
Things were going well.
Fourth step.
I started walking a bit faster
Fit…
“Hey Fag! Have a good summer did you. Have lots of gay sex under the stars?”
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I turned on my heal and ran.
Ran away from the laughing and the jeering, away from the shouts, the kids who tried to trip me up and shove me into lockers.
I ran out of the school, down the staris and passed staring kids who hadn’t got into school yet. I ran right passed them all, and into the street.
Into the street and straight into one of those big yellow school busses.
I felt nothing, not the wind in my face, not the breeze around my hair.
I didn’t see any type of light. Just the knowledge, for the first time in my life, that I wasn’t in the wrong. That I was right to be who I was.
I just wish I knew that sooner rather then later.
So I am the boy who never finshed high school because I got called a fag everyday.
That’s my name. Gerard doesn’t exsist anymore. Gerard Way is dead.
No one calls me my name anymore. I’ve heard even teachers talking about me they call me ‘The Fag.’ or ‘That gay boy.’ I get use to it. Every one does it. It’s just life isn’t it.
I guess I shouldn’t have ‘come out’ as it’s callled, ‘stay in the cubard’. Be afraid. It’s my own fault and I know that. I should be just like everyone else and think the way other people think. I can’t help that I don’t.
I have tried, God knows I have tried.
But I just can’t. Things I’ve been told to think and feel aren’t right. I hate that. I want to like girls. I’ve tried to look at them and like them. But nothing there attrakes me to them. They just don’t do anything for me. They can look pretty and all, but theres no spark or anything. Then when I look at people like Frank, my brothers best friend, I can feel fireworks going off. He’s sweet funny and looks like he’s been calved my angels. He’s beautiful.
I can’t act on those feeling though. He would be branded for life, although he’s not gay, to be liked by a gay would be just be as bad. I don’t want his life to turn out like mine. To be alone and feel scared, all alone, and to feel like life isn’t worth living.
He’s not the most popular person in school, and sometimes he sees me at school. I feel pleased when he sees me, because he’s risking being called a ‘Fag.’
“Fag!” I feel a samich thrown at my head. Why is it always me. I know it’s my fault, but I wish they’d leave me alone.
I know I’m going to be alone all my life, I just wish they’ed leave me to get on with it.
First day of the last year of high school today and already I’ve had Fag! Shouted at me about 6 times and a samich thrown, I’ve only been at school for about a minute.
This is was what the rest of the school was going to be like for the rest of the year. I couldn’t take it, not this next year. Four years it’s been going on and this is it. If I can go down one corridor with out being hit, ounched, had food thrown at me or been called a fag, I wouldn’t do it. I thought if I could go down just one corridor it would be okay.
I turnd down the polished corridor. It was busy full of people catching up with friends they hadn’t seen in ages, getting books out of lockers and comparing timetables. The more I looked down it the longer it seemed.
I took my first step.
My converses squeked on the floor.
Second step.
My breathing got a bit faster.
Thired step.
Things were going well.
Fourth step.
I started walking a bit faster
Fit…
“Hey Fag! Have a good summer did you. Have lots of gay sex under the stars?”
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I turned on my heal and ran.
Ran away from the laughing and the jeering, away from the shouts, the kids who tried to trip me up and shove me into lockers.
I ran out of the school, down the staris and passed staring kids who hadn’t got into school yet. I ran right passed them all, and into the street.
Into the street and straight into one of those big yellow school busses.
I felt nothing, not the wind in my face, not the breeze around my hair.
I didn’t see any type of light. Just the knowledge, for the first time in my life, that I wasn’t in the wrong. That I was right to be who I was.
I just wish I knew that sooner rather then later.
So I am the boy who never finshed high school because I got called a fag everyday.