You Can't Do That

As of late, I've been attempting to keep myself from writing essays, as many people have come to believe that they are my general writing format. This is not true; my general writing format is something far more whimsical which only ever touches upon topics such as civil rights or the enigmatic definition of 'freedom' by uncontrollable circumstances. Anatasha Pierce, for example, couldn't care less for the civil rights movement currently underway in our nation, regardless of if she's a driving force behind an equally important movement to banish the senseless oppression of the Magi in Angland; Tyrndeis has no intention of robbing David Aemir of his belief in free will, despite her frequent insistence upon his having been led through paths that would have been impossible without the guidance of a higher force; and although Miana Kampf and her deranged version of Latvia is based off of Adolf Hitler's Nazi Germany, I am not attempting to force the world to recognize the horror that was the Holocaust.
Suffice to say, my writing is not a documentary of any type. I am not attempting to expose the world for the decietful place that it is, nor the people for the horrible amalgamations of sinful flesh that they are. In no way am I working on a social commentary.
Regardless, there are certain topics that I must take time away from my fiction to address which are of dire importance to the world in which not only I, but most anyone else who will read this lives in.

Like it or not, I am a member of a subsection of American society which has been beaten down for far too long, denied 'basic human rights' as our government refers to them. Of course I'm referring to homosexual society.

I feel like a broken record at this point for how frequently I've had to voice this, but I'm still denied the right to marry whomever I should love in the vast majority of America. It seems absurd that I should even still need to touch on this subject, but the fact of the matter is that we live in a time where absurdity is far more common than logic would dictate. How is it that I, a man admittedly unlike many others yet still made of the same substances, denied the right to marry another man, while a woman is allowed to marry five men in the course of a single year? How is it that my marrying another man would make a mockery of this 'sacred tradition,' while I could marry dozens of woman over my lifetime? The idiocy of this thought is evident should one take the time to even begin to think. The edges of the 'reasons' fray when even the slightest bit of tension is applied to the cloth; there's no weight, there's no evidence, there's nothing. Of course, there's the old standby. My love is less viable than the love that a man and a woman would share.
My parents married when I was twelve years old. By the time that I turned thirteen, they wanted to kill each other. I'm now eighteen, they're still married, and they still want to kill each other. There are thousands of couples in America who have the same problems, thousands more who want to kill each other before the thought of marriage even crosses their mind, and still thousands more who never see it past their first year of marriage. Tell me, how is my love less valid than theirs? How is my love less valid than the love of the couple that got married ten minutes after they met on a drunken night in Vegas?

On top of being unable to marry in this wonderful country, I cannot give blood due to the fact that I'm far more prone to promiscuous behavior than a straight man is. I'm not even going to comment on this; I believe that the irony of the situation will leak through without commentary.