Spending All Summer Miserable & Alone For Growth
***************I SWEAR TO GOD, IF I’M GOING TO WRITE AGAIN AND I GET ANY MESSAGES CHECKING UP ON ME WHICH IS THE WHOLE REASON I STOPPED POSTING IN THE FIRST PLACE (NOT WRITING, BUT POSTING), I’M GOING TO TAKE THE GRAPHICS CARD OUT MY LAPTOP AND SEE WHAT I CAN SELL THE SAW CREATORS ON***** Please seriously, I write all the time, but don’t ask me why I don’t post things when I get bombarded for having my blog. I’m fine. You’re not. Get over it. Fuck. Moving on.
I went through a break up with someone I really loved at the beginning of the summer, while moving into an apartment I picked with her in mind, while getting yelled at every second of every day at my job, while coming off of the high of a year that astrology said would be rad. And you may think that’s gay as hell. But I haven’t had a good year in all aspects since 2007. And the gay shit you’re chuckling at, well it gave me a nice 2025. So I knew this one would be a doozy. And it has been. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like such a cunt in my life, and honestly, I don’t care.
I feel like I’ve outgrown everything and everyone and it’s so motherfucking grating on my spirit.
****This post may be a little too interpersonal in my own sexuality and my journey on why being this angry upsets me, but bitch I pay like $400 a year to not have ads on my beautiful website so you should be thanking me. But honestly, they never let me have ads on any of my blogs which is some bullshit honestly because I say cunt once in awhile but other blogs smell like golf course taint sweat and can sell Plan B and dog treats, and I’m over here just footing the bill.****
I identify as a bisexual switch. And no this isn’t a fucking name your pronouns community. They have reddits for that, this isn’t for you. Go steal your stepmom’s prozac and let people who are confident in who they are have a chat (shoutout my dude Charlie). Now, the reason why I feel comfortable and why when I’m dating I choose to identify as such is for the following reasons:
Nothing worse than someone who’s insecure about your past, when your past partners have created a place where you picked me to be your person. I think it’s super important to be able to talk about everything that’s ever happened to you and what you have going on in your life if we share mind, body and soul. To me, it’s even cornier that a broad I’m dating can’t talk about a man she’s dated or her babydaddy if I’ve dated men as well. Do I want to date men? No. But that’s a part of my life that you can’t shame me into forgetting. Especially when there are restraining orders. If you can’t process what I just said, it’s because you’re still thinking in flat Earth terms. I identify this way so my partner feels comfortable expressing their whole life. That’s it. I’m not dating a man ever again, though God bless them for trying.
1b. This needs a sub note thanks to the “INCLUSIVITY” on instagram. I’m going to take two high blood pressure pills writing this because of how inept the general public is. Yes, I am a gay broad. No, I don’t like Home Depot, I hate putting furniture together, I don’t garden, I don’t want coffee, honestly motherfuck the women’s suffrage movement because I’m suffering working and voting and driving. I like working on electronics and cars. I pay men to do things that they’re better at than me. I don’t give a fuck. However…wait we’ll get there later on. Bet you wished this was a scratch N sniff you loser.
Being a switch, this is a lot easier for people to digest between your hormone therapy and espresso and miserableness while I’m tattooed and tan watching CSI with my mattress on the ground listening to Tame Impala writing in a blog that nobody can take away from me…this is a really important thing. Basically it means that intimately, sometimes my partner is more masculine and sometimes she’s more feminine. But keep in mind, I only date minty broads. So whatever shit you think is the norm thanks to Instagram…that’s like Youth Pastor Jeremy telling you the in’s and out’s of sniffing glue or whatever the fuck corny shit people make seem is how everyone is.
2b. This conversation is not going to go past this in any more sexuality, but I think it’s worth discussing. It’s important to the bigger picture of what I’m talking about here. OH, and no, this isn’t shit I say on a date before someone who voted for whatever says I like labels. I’m explaining me as a person, since you’re coming to my blog and I hope to God nobody I know or don’t know has any bullshit to say because I might mix them up with the tripe up in my fridge since we’re talking about labels.
Cool. So now you got some terminology. We can continue.
I’ve taken 3 1/2 breaks not drinking in my life, and if it wasn’t clear, please read the blog and continue without some helpful tips…but something I did post breakup this summer was sit with myself. I’ve never sat with myself. Sobriety never granted me that and it never will. And if it helps you, that’s fantastic, but I what I need is a lot more Kerry Quirk driven. So this summer, I got this wave over me. I sat with myself. Walked a bunch, took comfort in simple things like walking Ruffle to the beach, folding laundry at the laundromat, was miserable, but because I wanted to be, cleaned when I wanted, cooked when I felt like it, did a lot of good around the new place I moved to. And that might sound dumb, but for the first time, I did things because I wanted to. And I didn’t go out or pretend to be having fun even though I was sad. I just sat and read and wrote and played video games and DJed for myself. And slowly, I started myself out on dinner dates. Honestly, just to talk shit and people watch. But that brings me to my next point…
Now walk with me for a bit…yes you at home…I’ll give you another minute because you know you should’ve heated up those crab rangoons a smidge and a bitch more. Go on. I’ll wait. I counted, I did wait for you. If you’re straight, you can go to any place in the country and find a straight person who will go home with you and if you can’t please don’t hit me up asking why and how. Go heat up more crab rangoons. And I’m not trying to be disrespectful, I’m just saying, I know what I look for, and I can read that on someone immediately, but I can’t just walk into some sports bar in Annapolis and know I’ll take someone home I’ll mesh with. Never mind the fact, I’m trying to explain to my straight broad friends all summer, I don’t want to hear about your fucking bitching and no I’m not taking you out to dinner, that’s what the dick with the credit card it for and wondering why I’m spending money…BECUASE THAT’S HOW DATING WORKS. “Kerry, why don’t you go out?” Well because, I’m catching up from my last break up. It’s like the blind leading the fucking blind. It doesn’t just appear from The Man Behind The Curtain’s Pocketbook. RESPECTABLE PEOPLE PAY FOR THIS SHIT.
And before one of you new age “why don’t you go to gay bars” motherfuckers comments…clearly you’re new and here’s why. I LIKE WOMEN. If the Good Lord Jesus didn’t want me dating them, he should’ve made them less attractive, fun to chase, and difficult to be around. And to be really honest, I shouldn’t be ashamed to tell you I fucking hate Hilary Clinton, I just wanted to eat you out in a public bathroom and get mozzerella sticks after without all this room for conversation.
I wrote this to “New Person, Same Old Mistakes” by Tame Impala. Serious side note though, please ask questions of your gay or different friends rather than assume we’re the same people or go through breakups or life the same as every other gay person you know. Same way you hate that token annoying ass white couple on Instagram, yeah, cool…glad we’re on the same page, maybe. And no, I don’t want to date you.