this zine is a powder keg
I got my first zine, My Computer, My Enemy: Moving Beyond the Digital Detox, published in a zine magazine (don’t be like me and put a zine inside a zine lol).
I know my accomplishment is in there, but I can’t bring myself to look inside it — the thought of doing so makes me a bit queasy. So, it stays nestled in the dark of my closet.
There is nothing wrong inside there. The problem is lack of privacy. I was born into a Christian family, my parents are devout and I never was. I’m too stubborn and curious to believe in any of that.
For a while I thought that I was doing a good job at faking belief, holding the poison in my mouth. But poison leaches and lying makes you bold. Instead of requesting the package be sent to my nearest post office, I put my actual address.
This wouldn’t be a problem if they didn’t open my mail, without my permission.
Instantly, I was feverish. The content was pretty queer and I didn’t want to be ‘found out’ … I was ready to throw it away, as I had done with other things in the past that meant a lot to me — An Iron Maiden t-shirt, playlists, my trans and lesbian best friends (both long gone from the church, good for them).
At least with this, I rationalized to myself, I can get the PDF version.
Strangely, my parents didn’t chew me out. My mom kissed my head, happy that I was “doing something other than studying or being in my room”. My dad found it mildly interesting. Apparently, he was subscribed to a few zines when he studied in England, over 20 years ago.
I’m still restless. Did they choose to say nothing about what they saw, or queer culture is too out of their depth?