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Telemetry of Tomorrow

I found myself mapping out my life for the next few weeks. Nothing that is set in stone just things that I feel need to be done. In a way I suppose I am inspiring, empowering, and most of all achieving something by doing this but what it is is currently unclear to me.

I met a man at work today who is the chief lawyer for the water comission. His name is Mike. Mike is a delicate yet masculine man, the type of man I imagine myself to be but sadly I doubt I truly am. We talked and he told me of his partner, who is a federal agent and how indirectly expressed how incredibly happy and fulfilled he is, this is about the time I realize he is my first real role model. Growing up I did not have many male role models besides my grandfather (who for all his kindness and unconditional love is completely too unrationally faithful to contradicting doctrine for my taste)and my (insert pathetic sigh here for effect) former recovering drunk father. Oh dear old drunk, forgetful dad. Who on sunday went into the hospital because of chest pains and possibly a heart attack and as always I had to hear about it from someone else (namely his ex-girlfriend who told my grandparents that he had called her. What this means about the supposed happy life with Cassandra and my brand new little brother “Good” Tony is unknown and frankly uncared for). So as you can see my choices of role model were slim. I guess there were always my three uncles (which now thinking and typing it sound more like sitcom rather than group of positive male role models) who oddly enough are embodiments of several aspects of me. For example, Scott the egotistical artist with a passion only for making himself known, Bobby the sarcastically hurtful sexaholic, and of course the gay one Vincent. The more I rummage through what is left of their belongs I begin to realize despite never once thinking to myself I want to be like any of them, I have qualities from all. If only they were like Mike. He has made a name of himself at a reasonable young age, he wears designer suits that are about as expensive as my tutions, and is a proud faggot who is deeply in love with a real man; I want to be him in my future. He has everything I want and I think I am in love with his life.

God, I fucking hate being jealous of other people.

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