Letting It Be: The Day I Knew

The day I knew. As I've read coming-out story after coming-out story, I've noticed a particular motif that seems to be a signature moment for all closeted individuals; that act of standing in front of a mirror and trying to say to yourself "I'm gay." I am one who does not fall into this category. I did not need a literal mirror for inner reflection. Instead .. it was the sound of music that triggered the epiphany. The harmonizing notes of synthesized music helped me understand the differentness that was I. It may have been late in life or it may have been soon. Or it may just be the moment I cared about it and knew it would change everything I knew. Whatever the case .. its my moment.

It was one of those days where your content. Your neither happy nor sad nor mad. Your just you, and thats okay. You could find yourself sitting alone or sitting in a crowd, but where ever you are you realise you just are. You recognise your own existence in the greater world around you, and oddly enough you find a soothing sense of peace. And so you don't rush it, or push it away .. you just let it be.

I was 'letting it be' while driving in my 4x4 GMC Sierra listening to the soundtrack of Nutty Professor 2. And it was just me. I didn't need to escape anything nor was I stressed by everyday inconveniences. It was just me and the world in harmonizing sequence. I was a mere speck of dust in the grand universe and when looking within I realised that I was a universe as well. A smile of comfort stretched across my face.

I pulled up to a four way stop and patiently awaited an elderly woman crossing the street. No doubt the vehicles behind me were impatiently gripping the steering wheel, this I knew but I did not rush. My destination will still be there. But I looked at the elderly woman as she caught a glimpse of me .. and we both smiled. She crossed, I sped through.

While soaking up the scenery of the open road whilst I travelled to the closest city, the song changed. Janet Jackson's "Doesn't Really Matter" was now blaring through the speakers of my extended cab as I continued my journey. And the words hit me like a bag of bricks.

"Doesn't really matter what the eye is seeing,
Cause I'm in love with the inner being,
And it doesn't really matter what they believe,
What matters to me is you're in love with me "

I thought deeply about the song that was playing as I drove down the highway and thought "someday you'll feel these words for your man. Someday you'll have a boyfriend." Being a drifter in the great universe that is my mind, I wholly did not comprehend what I just thought. For I was in a moment of just being myself. All thoughts would come and go as I revelled in my own existence. And so the song ended. I turned off the stereo and drove in silence. I stared down the highway and looked beyond the horizon before me and throught quite vividly "your gay." I smiled and continued forward.

Fathers

Everywhere I look .. I'm reminded of fathers. Was speaking with an old friend from grade school (and junior high and high school) who unfortunately is going through the misfortune of her father suffering from a mild heart attack. I surf the web, and come across BestGayBlogs that posted an excerpt about a father ... which all naturally leads me to think about mine.

I remember exactly what I was thinking when I came out to him. Boxing Day, we had a few a the bar and I just felt it was time to tell him. Would he be made? Angry? Disappointed? Happy? It was hard to say. But nevertheless, even upon not knowing .. I knew exactly what I was going to say if he was mad. I'd tell him he had no right in acting that way and no right in being angry simply because for the past 12 years he wasn't there. I was going to throw it in his face that I learned to shave on my own, I learned to tie my own shoes, I learned to change the car oil on my own. Everything a father should be, he wasn't and I learned it all on my own. I was going to let him know that I was angry at the fact that he asks to borrow more money from me than I do from him. I was going to, for once in my life, shout at him. I was going to scream that he lost all father rights and titles when he lifted his hand and striked my mother. I was going to angrily ask him "you lost everything because of your drinking and yet here you are, still drinking; why?" So much chaotic thoughts all on the assumption of his disapproving.

Until I told him, and he simply hugged me and said "I love you".

Why do I love him? Because no matter how much he can't do anything for me ... he still tries. If he could, he would. Everything I wanted to tell him .. he already knows. Everything I wanted to tell him, he already lives with. He realises how lucky he is that I still call him father.

Day 11

And thusfully another night of partying has proven to me that I'm not really attracted to anyone. Four bars .. and not one person in either bar turned me on. What the hell is going on?

Okay wait .. let me think ...

Alright, I'm wrong. There was one guy, but to that all I can say is 'out of my league'. Rugby and weight lifters build with a gorgeous face. A lil intimidating though .. plus I've chatted with him online before and lets just say this .. II got the feel that he expects things to happen FOR him as oppose to actually making them happen for himself. But I'd still do him though.

Anyways, four bars .. and no one. Not one person. My roommate on the other hand .. was 'in the mood'. Damn him .. was going to stay home and sleep too. But NOOOOOO. There I am, asleep in my bed .. and suddenly he comes running in, jumps on my bed and starts shoutin. "What you doing in bed? Its only 10:30. Come on, wake up wake up wake up." Of course, I do .. simply because I'm lying on the phone thats jabbing into my back while he's jumping on me. Please, who could sleep through that. Oh well, he said we're going out .. and silly me, thinking I actually had a choice in the matter. But he made up for it by paying the night ... while I had to D.D. Some frickin offer .. he offers to pay for my drinks and suddenly I'm driving. pft. Whateva ...

It was fun though. And there you have it. Day 11 of my binging spree. I'm actually kind of hoping I can stay in tonight.

BTW, the name for my future bar that I will own one day ... "Detox". I think its cool.

What would you do?

Just know that I wanna do this ...

... To him ...

... as he teases me with this. Need I say more?

Hump Day Recap

Recap: Went to the Eagle to play some free pool, helped a friend set up her karaoke equipment in the bar next door, went back to pool, drank some jagger (yum), ventured to another bar (ventured is my term for 'walking') and watched a the formentioned str8 girl win a stripping contest .. IN GAY BAR. Anything wrong with this picture. Well .. nothing wrong with these ones.

Boo-urns

Its pretty sad when a straight girl wins the amatuer strip contest at your favorite gay bar.

Attraction and the Lack There Of ...

I was out last night, karaoke again ... what do you really expect from a karaoke queen such as myself. (did I just refer to myself as a queen ... ah shit, I did ... someone slap me) And I was hanging with buds .. bar buds, when I've noticed something that struck me as odd. I looked around at the demeanor of all the fellow bar partons and analysed their body language and their smiles and their comments and overall ... just watched them. I'm a people watcher .. its what I do. And what struck me, what really stood out was their flirting demeanor to one another. Whom ever they found attractive they immediately began the flirting game. No whats odd about this is that I wasn't attracted to any of them. Not one person in that bar did I actually find appealing on a sexual level. Not one person stood out from the crowd that I absolutely had to meet. No attraction .. to anyone.

And as the karaoke session ended .. I, with a good friend and his bf, made our way to another bar. Now this is different ... same scenario but just different. At the previous bar, I had no sexual attraction to guys I somewhat knew. At the next bar, I had no sexual attraction to strangers. What hit me like a brick wall was that I've noticed that I'm not attracted to anyone lately. Seeing random guys around town and whatever, and I'm attracted to no one. Sure I'm horny as frick, but the main attraction isn't there. I can handle the horniness on my own (wink wink).

What does this mean? Sure I pass guys that can be defined as hot ... but I don't classify them as such. Sure they're good looking and all .. but I'm not about to pounce them at the first given chance. I'm just not attracted to anyone. Me wonder's if this will ever change.

*** *** ***

ON ANOTHER NOTE ... I've been invited to a karaoke event that supposedly is mainly attended by musicians and songwriters. Songwriter's Inc is what its called. And I've been invited by the host to attend. How frickin cool is that?

Roswell

As I sit here contemplating what to go back to school for, I'm reminded of what the ex told me. He beleived I should be a writer. I likes what I write; in fact he mentioned that he checks this blog daily just to read what I would write. I myself never really noticed my writing skills let alone beleive that I'm a good one .. I mean, I just write. I don't sit all day thinking about what to write next or anything .. whatever pops into my head at the time is what's going to be post here on this blog. If its a memory of what I felt in the past, or just some rant on what happened this past weekend, then it will be posted on this blog ... I don't really give much thought to what I say. I just type it.

But lately I've been thinking about what to go after next. I've been thinking about what path to follow, where to go in life. And so I've done whats always helped me ... I surfed the web. I turned off the thinking portion of my head and just let my mind wander .. and suddenly my old interests have poped up. I found myself searching the web for info on the movie Scream and checking out old shows like Buffy and whatnot .. and was suddenly reminded of an old TV program called Roswell that I liked so much. And so much of why I liked it is because of the symbolism and metaphors used to describe everyday youthful dilemmas and such. It was a showed that spoke to me. Not to mention the theme song used for it from Dido was phenomenal. It was a show that spoke to me ... much like Buffy did from time to time. I like the writing and how it was all used to tell a story. The imagery used, the actors acting, angles and music ... all of it together to create one aesthetic framework and how moving that framework can be.


I don't know how to get there ... but I think thats where I want to be.

Randomer 2

Randomer

Men & Trucks

I always had a thing for men and trucks. And someday I'll show you what my first vehicle looked like ... if I can find a pic.

Ringing Dead Phone

I was sitting in an empty room, waiting for a dead telephone to ring. Let it be somebody, anybody to lift me out of this rut I had just found myself in. A ringing phone would be my salvation from the crushing weight of loneliness that had consumed me whole. But no ringing would come. Instead I sit in silence as the dining room light illuminates empty walls of a cavernous apartment. How big it seemed when i realised I had nothing to put in it. I sit in silence, listening to the random cracks and creaks inside the walls that echoed in my head. Please phone, ring. Just once. I don't care if its a wrong number. Save me from the excruciating pain of knowing nothing will happen. Just once, just ring once. ... ... ... But it would not ring.

My how old this memory is, like ancient ruins of this fragile mind. Its an echo of a life that once was, a ripple of a life left behind. My phone rings now.

3 digits

So apparently the roommate went to pay his tab on friday night, and upon looking at it, all he could ask in a drunken stupor was "is that three digits?"

Almost there

And so the weather is gettin nicer, the sun is staying out longer. Alas, someday it will be warm enough to slap the rollerblades on and zoom down the paths by the river. Ah yes, my own private release. Escape from the mundane. Peace from the mediocre. Just me with music, workin up a sweat .. wishing I was playing hockey yet again. Ain't nothing like your own private time to relinquish the soul.

And having a good beer afterwards is great too.

F.F. Tagged

Tagged, inked, tattoos ... the marking of human flesh to distinguish one's own individuality .. or at least that was the principle behind it all. However, nowadays its so commonly done that individuality no longers seems to be the reasoning behind it. But alas, I'm not here to argue the concepts of group membership and pop culture. Nope, instead I'm here just to drool at the sexiness of men who are tagged. Men who are sexy by their own character yet stepped it up a notch by gettin ink done. Need I really say more?




The following is the design that had taken me years to find. I had always wanted a tattoo since I was teenage, but felt that any choice that lasts a lifetime should be the right one. And it just didn't feel right flipping through a book, trying to find what caught my attention .. for me, designs were everywhere and not subjected to a mere book. Sure they were nice and all, but for me it just didn't feel right. And thusfully years have passed until I crossed this one. Now I just don't know where to tag it ... either on my calf of my right leg, or on the shoulder of my right arm. What do you think?

Bound

Bound by thought. Pretty much sums me up in a nut shell. One thought leads to another that inspires another and so on and so on and so on. A friend once suggested maybe lilfe would be simpler if I didn' think so much. The ex says I should just speak, even if its all in jumbles. All thought, no action .. maybe thats why I like Philosophy in college. And there I go again.

Living in my head, one of the sheer joys (loaded THICK with sarcasm) of living in ones head is that too much thought could lead to unnecessary troubles. Like I had mentioned earlier this week, I had to "Let Go, Again"; the situation where I was severely ill and the ex came over to take care of me only to end up staying for the entire weekend. Well, I thought too much into that. It seemed to me that he was acting as if the break up didn't even happen. It seemed as if he was trying to get back together. I was wrong. He was only trying to be a friend, for he knew I had no one to call. He knew I wouldn't have anyone to turn too. And so he came.

Simple acts a friend would do and I misconstrued them because I thought too much.

PS: I know I said no more depressing shit, but this is my blog .. and hopefully this will be the last one.

ENOUGH

I've noticed that as of late this blog has become my venting tool and has steered off course of being a fun loving, thought-provoking, glimpse of the inner workings that is me ... er, wait. .. .. .. I see, its just stopped being fun-loving. Yeah, thats it. N E Ways ... to the point, enough depressin shit. Thats what I say ... don't you agree. Don't get me wrong, I do have shit to deal with but life is about more than depressing shit 'to deal with'. So, with that in mind ... here are some pics I've stumbled upon (don't know whose they are, therefore credit cannot be given for I don't know who to give it too).

And I Let Go .. again

Okay .. I missed something. I don't know what it was ... but I missed it. And I think it was crucial that I see it too, but I didn't. Yesterday, I let go (again) of probably the only person who thought the world of me. Again. How the hell does one have to let go again, of the same person?

Sure I asked him out for coffee whiched turned into a shared dinner and a drink afterwards which resulted in me mouthing the words "I miss you", but I invited him out as a friend. I had let go of what we had and had already been trying to move on ... but then the following day, I get sick.

And I've never been that sick before, drifting in and out of consciousness; hearing things in my dreams whilst I'm awake or hearing things from the street as clear as day in my dreams. I needed someone, I needed a friend. And when he asked if I needed someone .. I tried to resist; but one has to remember that I live in a city alone with no family nearby. Roommate up and left suddenly. I am alone. So I told him, yes .. I needed some one. He came over. He wanted to make sure I got better and thus the one night turned into the whole weekend. And in this time, he cleaned my entire apartment virtually spotless, ensured I eat something (anything really) and knew what to do to make the illness vanish as soon as possible. I see him doing all this and all I can think is .. 'didn't we break up?"

Looking back, I remember talking to a friend who told me "he heard the news". He spoke with the ex at the bar who told him we broke up. And suddenly, yesterday the ex was saying he was just giving me time. Like I need anymore confusion in my head. Did we break up or not? He turned the car around suddenly and dropped me off at home. He said he'd drop off the rest of my stuff in a few days. He told my friend that we broke up. Did I miss something here?

But .. whatever it is I missed. Its irrelevant. We spoke for once .. well, he spoke, I listened. And we are in very different stages of our lives. He knows what he wants in the future .. not necessicarily with me; but with his future and is actually working for it too. I on the other hand, am a leaf in the wind. Alot of self discovery is to be made within me. And as much as he wants to be there to guide me ... I don't need a father, I need a friend. He took care of me the way a father does, in fact even spoke to me as one ... and it was nice to be taken care of. But I need to take care of myself. I may have lost my best-friend .. I just hope I didn't lose a friend.

Am I Ruff Guff?

Hmmm ... does that mean I'm intimidating too?

You Are 90% Boyish and 10% Girlish

You have a tough exterior - and usually a tough interior to match it. You're no nonsense, logical, and very assertive. Sometimes you can't understand women at all, even if you're a woman yourself. You see things rationally, and don't like to let your emotions get the best of you.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

Man of 1,000 Words ... Pt. 2

By sunday the bodyaches ceased. The headaches were gone and the fever had come down drastically; although still lingered. Most signs of the flu vanished, cept for the sore throat that felt like it was ripping apart everytime I coughed. And through it all, the ex stayed by my side.

He ensured I eat as much as I could. He ensured I was comfortable but still taken care of in order to fend off the flu that consumed me the entire weekend. He asked me over and over again if there was anything he could do. And all I could reply was a shake of the head. The sore throat was bad enough that if I spoke it would erupt in a nasty cough-fest of phlegm; not a pretty picture ... nor did it feel all that great.

Either way, the ex was in all his glory. "And he is human" he proclaimed when he realises how sick I really am. There I am, head throbbing, body aching, all in all feeling like shit ... and he's happy about it. Although, if you were sick three times and your bf not even once .. you'd begin to wonder too. Nevertheless .. he was happy that for once in a sickly state he can take care of me. As mentioned, all signs of the illness were gone .. say for the sore throat; for which even the slightest word would make me cough. And so I said none ... well, said very little anyways. And that which I did speak, was spoken in a very soft tone. And this the ex took advantage of every moment he could. Knowing fully well I could not even speak a witty, assish come back with every snide remark he would say. And thusfully, throughout the day, whenever he could .. he would attack. And all I can do is glare ...

What's rather ironic is that this lil scenario is rather symbolic of my relations with life. I do not speak.

What I mean is that I do not engage on full throttle, soul-baring conversation. Not even with my parents. Not even with my best friends. There is alot about me that goes unsaid, and alot that is assumed. At times, I'm so caught up in thought that other people, other observers would know me best than I do. Even when the ex and I were together, whatever he knew about me is stuff he asked .. in his terms, he had to yank it out of me. I don't think it was a yank, I just won't share it willingly. If you ask, I'll tell you. But other than that ... I'll continue to live in my head. Besides, half the time I don't know what I'm thinking ... how would it sound aloud?