I will never be you. -Or- I don't understand white people.

I normally would not do this, but for the importance of this article, I must.

I am not you, and you are not me. I am certain some of you are like me, and you may even look like me, but you are not me.

If you were to see me on the street, you would call me a punk, and I would be happy you did. My foot-long mohawk and leather jacket likely give that away, as do my tattoo and ripped up jeans. What I need to express is if I was in a suit, I'd still be punk. My punk-ness, it's in my mind. I am nearly thirty. I don't dress or act the way I do to piss off my parents. I was not raised in the suburbs, and this ain't my way of pissing off daddy.

Let us take a moment to take a look at the word punk.

Punk: noun
1. any prepared substance, usually in stick form, that will smolder and can be used to light fireworks, fuses, etc.
2. a. a youth movement of the late 1970s, characterized by anti-establishment slogans and outrageous clothes and hairstyles
b. an adherent of punk
c. short for punk rock
d. ( as modifier ): a punk record
3. an inferior, rotten, or worthless person or thing
4. worthless articles collectively
5. a petty criminal or hoodlum
6. obsolete. a young male homosexual; catamite
7. obsolete. a prostitute

There are two of those definitions that always mattered to me. The first one, a substance used to set off fireworks. Man, did I love that. I felt that my actions and my words would set off the fireworks that would open everyone's eyes to the world. I still feel that way, I'm just less vocal about it. The third...that was the one that used to anger me: inferior, rotten, worthless. I was never any of those things, but as time went on, I learned I was. I was not white. Yeah I may look white to most people, but I am not; my race is nearly impossible to pin point. Mostly Native American, little Scottish, little Irish, a little African, and possibly some South American, too. I really don't know at this point, and I really don't care. I'm a mutt, a mongrel, always have been and I do not give a fuck about it either. I'm not Christian, I'm not Jewish, and I'm not Muslim. I'm not Taoist, Buddhist, Wiccan, Mormon, or anything else. I am an atheist and have been since I was ten.

I am fairly quiet about it too, until someone will not let it go. I played football in high school, and Dungeons and Dragons. Most of my school's defensive records are still mine. I tell people I am a certified Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master before anything else. Needless to say, I am a nerd, not one of the cool kids.

I am in a poly relationship: one woman, two men. We all live together, eat together, and all that good stuff. I am bi-sexual, and I am an anarchist. If you're all those things congrats...if not let me tell you what all that leads up to.

See, I am quite smart, always have been. I know everyone says that these days, but they tested my brains in the third grade, 153 IQ, just under genius. I don't care, because a genius wouldn't have had 42 jobs in their lifetime. Too smart for my own good they say...very helpful. I have a very bad habit (picked up from southern living) of not putting up with anyone's crap, not my bosses, not my teachers, and not police either. See, smart people know when to shut up. I don't.

These days I make BDSM sex toys in my garage for a living, specifically marketed to geeks and nerds. Oh right, I'm in that lifestyle, as well. While I make enough money to survive, I am not rich. I cook almost all my food from scratch, not for health reasons, but because it's cheaper. I can fix my car because I have to, not because I want to. A few months ago I put a tire on a rim the hard way not because I could, but because it saved me fifteen bucks. That is just the way my life is. What I can do is wake up in the morning, look in the mirror, and be happy with the person who looks back. I can smile and laugh all day long because in the end, I am my own person, and no one tells me what to do.

That is who I am. I could go on like this for days. I need to get to the reason I wrote this article, but knowing who I am is important for the rest of this, so now you have a basic idea.

Look up a song called Love Ire and Song, by Frank Turner, that will help you understand my mentality these days.