This isn't even good grammer or interesting to read for such a topic...I apologise

I am almost 30.  This doesn't come as too much of a surprise seeing as I have been living my own life...it's hard not to know your own age at this point in time.  My point being, I have nothing to show for my life.  Now, this is not some silly Brady Bunch attempt to get sympathy or false compliments.  I try not to fish too hard anymore for such shallow meanings, unless it's about my hair, of course!  But it is an eye opening topic that I must sit down and truly address.  I am almost 30.  I live at home with my parents, I have no real job, no insurance, no money, I have debts owed to the government; sister; father; mother, I have no college education or training of any kind.  I am lost in my own uneducated translation...shout out Kever!  And to boot, I have no motivation to change any of it.  I have no goals to strive for, I have no likes to wish into reality.  I am a rotting piece of sunken ship floating to the surface with the current as my only direction of where to go once it's reached. 

I have always said that I just want to be the "normal" housewife and take care of someone, heart and soul.  But I am almost 30.  Those prospects and lack there of are not looking too good.  I know what everyone is thinking, 30 is still so young.  Yes it is, in the straight world.  In gay years 30 is midlife.  Looks are a huge factor in the life of gay men, men in general, but gay men have a different out look on life.  It is instilled in us that we must achieve greatness by 24 and be in the best shape of our lives by 30 otherwise you become that old man creeper hitting on all the young boys at the club...and you just turned 31.  It's no joke, people.  I invite you to sit and watch the goings on at any gay bar after 11pm.  I have always hated gay "culture" ever since I can remember.  I hate drama.  I hate overly exerted displays of attention.  I get sick off the fact that sex is the only motivator.  That you can't just be friends, it has to be including something more, something with maybe down the road I will blow you and you me.  It disgusts me.  But alas, tis what I must endure.  NYC was a little easier to live in than here being gay, obviously, but it still had it's flaws.  Even though the city was only 16 miles long it had so many different worlds combined.  You could be completely comfortable walking hand-in-hand with a boy down Ave. A at 13th st. but just a few blocks over in Union Station you'd be beat in the face with a skate board.  Same as the upper and lower East and West sides.  Upper East; stay inside and cuddle, Lower East be free!  Cleveland is not at all like that.  You just stay inside and pretend to be normal.  It's safer.  I am so exhausted, though.  Acting normal is truly exhausting.  I put on a show everyday.  I guess anyone who knows me would not use the word normal to describe me but the show is more for the people to not believe I'm a horribly depressed human being.  The one thing no one would ever say about me is that I'm sad or depressed, minus my sister or anyone that actually got to know me beyond the superficial level of Hello, Nice To Meet You.  My act, in public, is one of a happy, fun and crazy individual, but my true soul is breaking every time I step out of my bedroom.  I put on my mask along with my clothes.  It is exhausting.  I feel, though, that I wouldn't have anyone around me if I just was my true self.  I am no fun being myself.  I sit in the corner and sulk in self misery.  I don't socialize or make jokes.  At home is my true personality.  When I get home I completely shut down-due to the exhausting day I had being not me- and I crash on the couch or a chair and curl into a ball and stair off into a world I wouldn't wish upon anyone else.  It is my one real reason for the lack of motivation, the anxiety riddled affliction, my dark secret life of an American teenager...it is my heart strings snapping at the roots.  I have only a few left intact.

One love.