Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Foreigner

     In the States, people stare at me constantly. It has become so second-nature that I can almost convince myself I don't notice the up and down examinations.

    Here in Italy, though, in the meager 11 days I have been here, I've been nearly able to forget the feeling of being an interesting specimen behind a wall of glass. Maybe it's because I look like every other pierced punk with a mohawk, or because there's no queer culture here for them to fear my belonging in, or maybe Italians just care less about the weird trans*dyke walking past them. It's a nice change, but it makes it all the more noticeable when I see the discomfited man glancing warily in my direction the entire time I wait in the queue.

     Men used to look me up and down like I was a cut of meat they were eager to gnaw on, striking fear into me. Now, though, their eyes deflect skittishly away, as though I were the frightening one.

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