well, she is. she cheated. the cheater.

but that wasn't what this was supposed to be about.

My uncle makes me giggle. and that my aunt isn't happy with me makes my stomach hurt. and life could be a horrible horrible place.

Except it isn't. its acutally quite nice.

yay.

Got from a freinds journal, couldn't agree more if i tried.

--

Please, repost this in support of your friends and loved ones who are. Love is not defined by color, creed, sexual preference, or gender. Feel free to add your own story to the end.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the boy who never finished high school, because I got called a fag everyday

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the one working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the woman who died when the EMTs stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn't have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am a warrior for my country serving proud, but can't be my true self because gays aren't allowed in the military.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

I am the person ashamed to tell my own friends I'm a lesbian, because they constantly make fun of them.

I am the who isn't sure what she is. I am the who is rejected by her "best friends" because of a less-than-conventional crush.

I am the boy tied to a fence, beaten to a bloody pulp and left to die because two straight men wanted to "teach me a lesson."

This is the boy, Matthew Shepard. On October 7, 1998 Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson lead him to a remote area east of Laramie where they demonstrated unimaginable acts of brutality . Matthew was tied to a split-rail fence where he was beaten and left to die in the cold of the night. Almost 18 hours later he was found by a cyclist who initially mistook him for a scarecrow. Matthew died on October 12 at 12:53 am at a hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. MURDERED BECAUSE HE WAS GAY!!!

I am the girl who tried to kill herself, because she couldnt stand the bulling"

This is the girl. Alex Jones, when her class mates found out she was bisexual and had a girlfriend, they beat and bullied her untill she had to move away, she know keeps her sexuality a secret because shes so afraid

IF YOU BELIEVE THAT HOMOPHOBIA IS WRONG... REPOST THIS
AS "HOMOPHOBIA."

IF YOU ARE IGNORANT... IGNORE

Please, repost this in support of your friends and loved ones who are. Love is not defined by color, creed, sexual preference, or gender!

I'm unpacked. officially living in the dorms. i met my roommate. hung stuff on the walls. made my bed and put away my clothes. I've been on campus since 800 am this morning. its only 1:04 pm.

I'm already so damn lonely.

My roommate had her parents to help her move in. I've seen all sorts of people with thier parents. My Aunt Debbie and Uncle Gary helped me move in but they had to work so couldn't stay, the Man the Lady and the Wimbish are already back in WY, becuase they have work and teh Wimbish has her own move in to take care of. I'm grateful for all the help they had all been able to give me...

but dammit all i want MY parents.

Theres some sort of family meeting later, other group things for parents to be involved in. i'm not going to any of them, cause i dont have anyone to bring to them. I have nothing to do till 4:00 pm, when i meemt my orientation group or whatever, so i'm sitting in my room (which is actually pretty nice) typing on wilson, adn feeling sorry for myself. I know this, acknowledge it, but seem to be doing it despite knowing it isn't going to help anything. i'm lucky to have so many people who will be there for me if i need them, so what if they aren't here right now. they would be if i asked them to, i just dont want them to have to miss work or put off doing whatever it is they need to do so they can hold my hand.

But i'm lonely.. so damn lonely... i've talked to my roommate, and two other girls. i didn't even really introduce myself to one and, since i suck at names, forgot the name of teh other. I want my people. all my people. all the people i've ever hung out with. i want them. becuase i dont want to meet new people only to leave them again.

I'm so damn tired of leaving.

I haven't cried too much really. i'm trying not to. but its hard, and a couple tears leak out everyonce in a while. I'm sure everyone gets sad when going away to college. My aunt almost cried after we finished moving all my stuff, and she only lives about a mile away. no great distance between me and family. but i'm sad anyway. its probably only happening this soon becuase i'm still. i should go out, do something, see something, meet people...

except i dont want to risk getting lost and being late, i dont know what there is to see, and i'm so damn bad at meeting new people....

i want my parents... i wish daddy was here... i didn't get to spend nearly as much time with him as i had wanted to... but i'll see him. when we both go up for Stef's baby, i'll see him... even if that isn't for a while...

i wish my mom was here.

seeing my roommate having her parents help her move in, going with her to get all her stuff checked off... i wish... well, i just wish i guess.

but i wish a lot, and i've learned by now that they rarely come true.

i need something to do. something to keep my mind off the lonely........
i just dont know what.

yeah... thats right.

I'm in MO. and its awesome. Humid as all hell but awesome none the less.

i'm gonna go to COOOOOOLLLLLEGEEEEE...


ohs yeah.

NOTE TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE!!!!!!

YOU DONT HAVE TO READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!!

Ramona was born on August 15, 1960. She is mother of Christopher Seth Harrison, who is now 25 and married, Stefanie Michelle Harrison, who is 23 and pregnant with her first child, and Rebekah Nichole Harrison, who is 18 and entering college this fall.

Her husband, Theodore J. Harrison, continues to tell his youngest daughter he's 21, though she's pretty sure he's like 56, and he has a tendency to go driving and not tell anyone where he's going.

She comes from a large family, which gets larger all the time, and taught her children that family is important. She was incredibly talented and gifted in art and creative and recsourceful, making beautiful things both on paper and off. She gardened, and built, and fixed, and healed, and painted, and drew, and sewed, and sang, and cooked, and cleaned. She did whatever needed to be done and she found a way to do it well.

She was beautiful, and kind, and the center of her youngest child's world.

She died on July 31, 2001, 15 days before her 41st birthday, and 15 days before her youngest entered middle school. About a month after her middle child came home from having lived with her grandmother for a year. Years before any of her children, or her husband, would have stopped needing her.

We still need her, but she's not here, and the anniversery of the day she died is coming up. Its a day, I'm a bit ashamed to admit, that I dont usually pay much attention to. Maybe becuase I was younger, maybe cuase I try very hard not to greive for her, for many reasons, or maybe just becuase I refused to see the aniversery of the day that she left me as something important. But no matter how much I deny it, it is.

I'm 18. I'm a big girl now. I should be able to miss my mother on the anniversery of her death, and then later on her birthday, and, of course, all the days before, after, and in between, without falling into little, tear covered peices. I'm trying, which she taught me was more important than suceeding sometimes, but I'm not doing very well. She supposed to be here. She's supposed to be here to see me off to college, she should have been there for my big brothers wedding, and she should be there in January when my sister has her baby. She should be there for my father, becuase he needs her, just as much if not more than the rest of us.

She should be, but she's not, and I guess part of my problem is that, even after 7 years, I'm still coming to terms with that.

Sorry for this, I'm sure no one really wants to read about it. Mother loss is a taboo subject for most people. But I needed to right, and this seemed like as good a place as any.

She needs to be remembered, and sometimes i have trouble remembering her. After 7 years my memory of her has faded far more than it should. But even if its only her name and the day she left she should be remembered by someone, somewhere, and hopefully thier heart wont break when they think of her.

She was beautiful, and wonderful, and she was my mom.

i miss her so very very much...