Calling My Pride

I sit there looking funny, supporting other funny people.

PRIDE

The word that is associated with LGBTQ.

What does pride mean to me?

What does pride mean to the other non-LGBTQ members?

Isn’t being a hippie or a punk or a member of a minority subculture demands a PRIDE?

When I look into a dictionary, the only definition that satisfies me and doesn’t play with my mind is that of having a sense of positive ego, a healthy sense of narcissism.

PRIDE deals with gender identities and sexuality and the difference between the supposedly normal world and the queer world. 

Why should everyone be indulged in PRIDE?

You can say you are unique. But you are not. You are just a brick in the wall and you will always be that brick. Even if you are a famous actor, a musician or a soccer player, you still fall within a subculture. You are still surrounded by the people, who do the same job as you.

The difference stems in the popularity of a subculture or a group.

If you are from the subculture whose residents comprise of famous singers, you are more prone to enjoy fame.

But, unfortunately {not really}, if you belong to a minority subculture, you are shunned down, looked down upon.

So, it becomes hard for us {yes, I am a writer of the tribe}, to live a normal life. And that is why; PRIDE is an essential and important way to protest, to interact, to show.

And that is what pride is about.

PRIDE shouldn’t be devoured by them. Instead, this must be a time of the year, where different minorities who have faced prejudice; who are constantly fighting for their pride; who have been still even sustaining the torrents of bullying and violence.

PRIDE is a celebration of different, awkward, queer and not particularly LGBTQ. Pride shouldn’t only be about them, but also about the ‘looked down upon’ subculture.

A Letter: A Memoir of Desperation and Frustration

I used to be different. Now i am different.

Dear Well-Wisher; Care-taker; Friend

I HATE YOU.

Yes, you heard that right, I hate you. From the core of my heart, my soul, every living cell of my body, I will hate you.

I hate you, for what you have inflicted on me.

I hate you, for what you are doing to me. 

I hate you, for acting as a bridge between my soulless body and my humanity.

Every time I look in the mirror, the visage seems familiar, but I still cannot recall “EXACTLY”, where I have seen IT.

I had left IT all behind, in my past.

You have ruined me.

I am so frustrated and desperate now. I loathe myself for accepting and embracing IT; my old-self.

 I’ve always considered myself a fairly emotional person.

But, that was all behind me,

I drowned the person in the deep oceans of pacific. I tied a big boulder of despair with IT, so as to make sure that IT won’t see the light of the day.

And then, I ran, as fast as I could, as far as I could.

Because, that corpse would remind me of a pathetic, emotional person, I was, at one sort of time. I thought that I would never encounter it again.

But the fates had it.

Now everywhere I look, I see the scoundrel, the imposter, the ghost, staring at me coldly, grinning at me.

And I run {yet again.}

But this time, I am not alone.

IT; myself, is running besides me, catching up to me, like my shadow.

What I cannot decipher: After so much pain, after so much sorrow, after so many tears, why is there a little part of me that is intentionally slowing down, so as to feel the intimacy of a ghostly touch.

Why, even after what I’ve done to my doppelganger, can it ‘as well’ accept me back and try to reunite.

I am afraid of running now.

I stay, I stay and I stay.

And surprisingly, it does too.

IT hugs me and sleeps with me. We make love. We reunite.

Now, out of the blue, the moon is brighter; the wind is rhythmically cool; the birds are chirping violins.

I cannot understand.

After that one night, the rush; it is so hard on me. It is as if all the latent emotions, that I have put in a box, sealed and burnt, have cornered me. They are seeping into my skin, not one at a time, but they are bombarding their tiny Lilliputian self, to the giant I am.

And it hurts, it hurts real badly.

I do not want to feel it, not anymore. I thought that I had came a very long way, that I won’t have to suffer anymore.

But I was wrong.

I have been traversing in the opposite direction. I am till so far away from the goal post.

I am paralyzed with feelings. And even after that, I am still crawling to reach the destination, to get the grand prize i.e. the power of acceptance, the same old love, who I never embraced fully.

Thank you Dear Friend.

Thank you for giving me someone to direct my loathing towards. For giving me goals, that I would shrug off of my shoulders. For letting me hate you.

And so, I will continue to hate you, continue to hate myself, till I reach and win and embrace.

Watch “The Horror of the Blade” on YouTube

Please do give this video a watch. It is a very heartwarming one. We have tried to raise awareness about the issue of female genital mutilation.

Please join our voice.

Watch “Blood between my Legs : A Short Film” on YouTube

Guys do give it a look.

It is an amazing venture.

It depicts the horror of female genital mutilition. 

I hope it will be a heart warming story…….

Much power.

Love Andre_gennie.