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part 2

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so we got out the car and headed to the white house. we took some pictures. you know, i had to go back to the car to get my mom's camera that she forgot. once again, when i was walking to and from my mom's car, i once again got a chance to see how the hatred for myself was showing. i was literally waiting and anticipating people to say bad things about me as i walked past them, hearing people laugh at me, thinking that i was retarded. here i was scared to death of criticism of the things that i was insecure about myself that i expected people to let me know about. i didn't even bother to look at them or whatever AND the words i was expecting from them never came. it was at that point where i started to get sad. i was ready for people talk bad about me BUT the reality was it was just ME thinking bad about myself. it was me that thought that i walked funny, it was me that thought i was ugly, it was me that thought that there was something wrong with me, it was me that thought that i was too weird to walk around in public where i couldn't blend in with others, and etc. IT WAS ONLY ME THAT FELT THAT WAY ABOUT MYSELF. that was when the trip stop being fun. my own hatred of myself kept me from being in complete awe of the white house, enjoying the feeling of being in somewhere new, and etc. even if someone talked shit about me, why would i give a fuck? the reason why i was waiting for it was simply because i had no confidence in myself. i felt about myself so negatively that i was basically cosigning them. i cosigned them if i let them know that i have a problem with them. the best way to reply is to ignore them or to just keep it moving because i know that i'm not what they say about me. my biggest enemy was myself that day and it still is.

i also went over to the human rights campaign building where i wanted my mom to take a picture of me by the building. i talked to the nice receptionist there and he told me about the hrc store as well as what they did there. i got two equality magazines, some hrc stickers, a hrc wristband and some brochures about coming out, coming out as a black american, and etc that are right on my bed right now. i should have asked if there was a way to get involved with the hrc as in voluntary work in my area. i guess i'll ask next time to the hrc store as i'm thinking about going over there soon or rather later with my brother and my friends.

as i got back into the car to drive out of d.c., i told my mom that i felt sad and depressed. that was at the point that i realized that i had to work on me. i really did. i had to work on myself because i was beating myself up. i was fighting myself. you know, i learned that nothing good will come from self hatred and proof of that was me fighting myself when i was in the closet. i was fighting myself for a long time. it got to the point where i no longer knew who i was. i felt completely lost going to the club with my brother and my homeboy because i was trying to be somebody that i wasn't. i would yap about me getting pussy or not getting any women WHEN i had no interest in getting with a women for the purposes of romance and sex. none of that was within me. i sure did a good job trying to convince myself that i was this person when i wasn't that person to begin with. at the end of the day, when i came clean, it was a relief but at the same time, i was still afraid because i had created a character from the lie i was living. this guy that i was presenting didn't exist and when the truth came out, there was a good chance that people weren't going to believe or were going to shun me away because they didn't like the person that i was revealing to them. i thought that my parents and my brother was going to be those people that were going to reject me and things turned out much differently than i expected them to go. it shocked me.

well, here i am going through that same thing except with who i am. i was a problem accepting myself for who i am and loving that person. this person is someone that i cannot disown because that person is me. i can't be somebody else. i am who i am until the day i die and i have to just deal with it. that's the hardest part. i can say that i love the person that i am AND not feel that way. i want to feel that way about myself. i want to be able to walk around being totally comfortable with who i am. being able to say that i am happy with myself. that i have a good walk, i have an attractive face, that i'm sexy, that i'm a smart guy, that i have a bright future and that i have a good personality. whenever other people say that to me, i think that they're lying because i don't see myself as being that good. why is that? why am i beating myself off? i'm not being a douchebag for being happy with myself. that's my problem. i need to love myself and i'm going to make that my responsibility. i'm going to start treating myself right. i have to. even with my eating habits, they're very terrible. TERRIBLE! tomorrow, i'm going back to eating well again.

well, there goes my long ass blog entry.