The Craigslist!

We are amidst in a fury of notwithstanding, theological assumptions. Although we are now clearing our way free of any sort of Christianity imposed by centuries of oppression, we still abide by the laws given to us. My take on organized religion in as few sentences as possible is: whatever floats your boat, man.

I signed up to the craigslist the other day. I will give you my ad:

Looking for activity buddies for squash, tennis, biking, etc. Interested in platonic relationships, though would prefer to explore the possibility of more. Seeking masculine, attractive guys around my age (from 25-40 no exceptions unless you're fucking hot). Please send me a face picture if interested.

The only reply I get is from my ex. I haven’t heard from this jerk in almost a year, and lo and behold: he is the sole responder. First, he sends a picture of himself in a ball cap, green sweater, supporting a beard and a smile I know all too well; there is a cat in his arms which I cannot identify. He writes, "I'm the one with the hat". Nice, I remember that humor, and frankly, I don't care much for it.

He interested in getting to know me, and he readily supplies his stats, including his size down below. I mean, come on people, if you read my ad at all, do you think that’s the sort of information I was looking for?

Regardless, he looks older, and his picture isn’t that attractive. I’m glad I can at least get that sort of enjoyment out of seeing him trying to cruise me online. You can’t avoid the pigs in this sub-culture. Even when I make a wholesome ad, and state my intentions about wanting sincere relationships that doesn’t necessarily have to be about sex, I still get these assholes.

I e-mail him back (he knows my address) and I say “I know who you are, faggot!” Serves him right really. I’m not a bitter person, I am more pissed off because I can’t escape this sub-culture, and find something quasi-normal in this day and age. Than again, I’m still looking in the wrong places. Would someone mind telling me the right places to look?

I’m going to remove my ad from the craigslist. I think being a social butterfly and a sexual hermit for the rest of my life won’t necessarily be a bad thing. I can concentrate on yoga, spiritual enlightenment, and physical fitness. Already I see tremendous gains, and my outlook, and authority on life has picked up their place. Next on the list of things to do, could very well be owning a business. I can see myself owning a high-end fashion or furniture store, and ‘working in the trenches’. I can team up with my subordinates and really make sales, and feel like I’m contributing.

I would be good at the business and marketing side of things. It’s the uncertainty and risk that I have an issue with. There are many people in my life, who can pick up on new ventures without batting an eye – perhaps entertaining a discussion over gelato one day, and the next taking action. I haven’t quite mastered that yet, but it certainly seems amazing. Would my friends stomachs be as queasy as my own?

I’m imagining myself in Armani suits and a very expensive, shiny Rolex; with teeth brilliant white; and a smile that says accomplishment. I am strolling down the halls of my business having the most wonderful conversations with my customers. They are laughing, and polished, and brilliant. At the same time, my fellow employees probably think I’m a fake, and the customers themselves can see right through me. Those things aren’t important right now, because I’m on a new business high. It won’t taper off, not this time, and I will forever love the place I’m in – it’s my sanctuary and something I love discussing over 5 star dinners with my posh friends.

That is the world that most people fit me into. They say, “That’s where you belong, Charlie; you’d love it, don’t say otherwise, we know better." In a way I agree, I mean I’d love it as much as anything else. I got the same excitement working as a fisherman for 10 years, with different constraints of course; or my bout as a tour guide for two years was real and meaningful…I don’t think I should be stuck into the upper echelon of society because I sometimes come across as a prissy, spoiled entrepreneur that bases his entire existence on excelling.

My parents were upper class, white trash, if that makes any sense. I have my roots, man. Growing up in poor town Newfoundland will always keep me grounded. I went from a have not province to the one the most have provinces in Canada. I like the finer things, but at the same time would love to get dirty and drink beers with my buds back on the rock. It’s no different.

Men's Underwear

If I were a woman, I’d wear men’s underwear just because a) its unconventional and b) I hate girly fabrics; its equivalent to running fingernails across a chalkboard, I can't even think about it.

What a fine day to believe! Our epic week of sunny days is officially tapering off, and I can feel the overcast and the foreboding rain coming. Its Victoria after all, it rains. I have to spray my shoes again, just to make sure they don’t get soggy in the rain. I’m not normally anal about these things, but I’m starting to think about appearances.

For instance, right now I have a week old beard – I’m just shaving the neck area – I’m wearing a sour green t-shirt; somewhat tight jeans; a white pair of shoes with black and grey patches; and a multi-colored sweater (brown, grey, navy blue). That’s my style, it’s a combination of 60’s meets the upcoming, and nobody can own it only myself.

My legs and arms are sore today. I ran too long the day before, and than proceeded to work out with heavier weights. I’m not sure why I’m doing it – it’s not to pick up muscular guys who are normally older and on HIV medications (FYI – that’s why they have muscles: the steroids). I think it’s because I don’t want to be a hunched over old man that can barely walk when I’m eighty. I want to keep this going for as long as possible, and my fear of getting older and shoved into a home at an early age will dissipate.

Initially I worked out because I started raving and my ex boyfriend and I split. I started to hit all the seedy, drugged up, gay venues known as ‘the circuit party scene’. I wanted to objectify and be objectified, and invest nothing but the moment into my encounters. A broken heart does that to you.

Jesus, I must admit, I have had some hot encounters there, and I’m glad I did experience the drugs, and the music, and the venues…but it’s so frigging hollow and empty. New Years was my last time. I was sardined into ‘the world’; the building code wasn’t taken into consideration and I was man-handled by gross men. I did have some hot encounters that night, and I did get a lot of attention, but when I left that morning, I felt ill about the whole experience. My resolution was to avoid these unsavory places for now on. I don’t want to be one of those guys.

Where is Mr. Right? All the Mr. Rights I know right now are in relationships. They all seem happy, well-adjusted, and grounded. That’s what I want, all those things from someone else…but to me, it seems as if those qualities can only be found in men who are already loved by someone else. I am seeking the right types of men; it’s just that, I am not sure if he is out there. OMG I’m seeking: Tres Scary.

The majority of men I have met have had some emotional difficulties, like bouts of unhappiness, or negativity problems. My friend Catherine refers to the club we frequent as the “club of lost toys.” I try to pick up for my sub-culture, and I try to look at the positive, and do see a lot of the good. But, it’s convincing both my gay and st8 friends to look at the positive…well, that’s the difficult part.

Are we lost? I know far more unhappily married, straight women and men who have made utter messes of their lives. So, it's not the gay culture that's lost or in need of repair, it's the majority of society. I'm just thinking outside of my friends narrow views. I mean, I’m not stuck with a child, I have freedom to do whatever I want, I have a great job, I look and feel good…

Jesus, I think I’m adjusted! I just hope that we stop stereotyping, and generalizing this existence we share with so many different people: that’s the one take away I’d like people to pick up in the journey of becoming self-aware and comfortable. That shit is annoying.

Hiking Mt Finalyson

People always say you have to love yourself before you can let anyone else in. Well, I love myself, that's not an issue; it's the rest of the world I have a problem with.

I had a date with a 22 year old med school student this weekend. He incisively wanted me to take the lead, which results in a contemptible relationship on my part. I don’t want a one-sided relationship where I feel as if I am responsible for someone else’s entertainment. I have a great disdain for the younger generation seeking out older acquaintances’ to lead them. I can barely lead myself. The conversation was slow for the most part, and I can say that he is a fairly quiet and introspective guy. He was nothing but smiley - with his bright, white teeth and blue eyes - and very hard to figure out.

We hiked up Mt. Finlayson. It was fun, and I think the highlight of the trip was watching my young friend be completely out of his element. He did well though, and only stopped a handful of times for a breather. The day was brilliant, the sun was out, and the stones and foliage scattered around the trail was being bleached by the brightness of the sky.

The mountain is one of the friendliest places I visit. People coming up and down the cliff always say hi, we are all sharing the same struggle – a 1380 foot climb upward. I always love finishing up, and starting the hike back down, only to see very sweaty, out of breath newcomers who obviously haven’t did this hike in a long time. It’s hilarious, and I relish in their pain.

Once a young couple stopped me on my way down, asking me how much further they had to go. I knew that they weren’t even close, maybe just 40 percent up, and I lied to them saying, “Oh, it’s not much further now, you’re almost there!” I only did it to motivate them. When you see a goal insight the struggle isn’t nearly as cumbersome.

My younger companion showed up in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater. I’m not sure if he knew that he would be sweating a great deal, and he may have taken for granted the amount of work this novice will have to experience. The hike up is fine, but the last 35 percent is rocky, and you have to bare hand it at times.

He had a slight fear of heights, so certain areas made his clutch on to the stony walkways to ensure he wouldn’t topple down the cliff. I kept giggling to myself, seeing him on all fours; lurching up the path as if this foreign world did support the everyday, trendy gay male. The image of him in heels came to mind and I quietly snickered. He stepped on the stone and rocky areas as if it were a new environment all together. The boy was an alien to this world, and it was all so interesting and delicate. I really did enjoy seeing him experience this for the first time.

I guess that could have been my first time also. My friend Darrin from work took me up. Every time we planned a hike, he would always pull out a big joint and smoke up – we than continued on to a geocache (look it up www.geocaching.com). Geocaching is a very popular way to hike nowadays. We used GPS positioning, and the goal is to find a cache (a Tupperware container that contained a log book and cool items). It was a great way for two tech nerds to spend the day and have a rewarding prize at the end of a drug induced journey.

I loved those weekends! I remember being on of the rocky ledges, stoned out of my mind, and looking down. I was convinced that I couldn’t do it, and wanted to turn around. My friend Darrin though, managed to talk me up. I shouldn’t be so hard on the dude, my first climb up that mountain made me cringe in certain areas, but I was sure footed!!!

He’s a good guy but a little bland on the uptake, but overall he will make someone happy. After this expedition, I know I am not the guy for him. I think I need someone a little more abrasive, and bold like myself. I want someone who will challenge me and not just go with the flow, just because his older companion knows better. Nor do I want to be reminded that I have five years on him.

It was fun. Do I think it's going somewhere? No. I mean, I find him attractive, nice body and such; he's so nice though. I could never go for the nice guys...

It's not going to stop

I have to question my mortality on a constant basis. I wouldn't say that I am a hypochondriac, nor would I say that I'm overly sensitive; there are far too many coincidences and illnesses that occur for me not to think this way. The downside, or one would say the dark side of being gay, is having an intimate relationship with a virus that is killing millions. Sooner or later, it may get me; in fact, it may already have me, and I just am not aware of it yet. I have written this before, and I will have another indebt conversation about the same subject in the future, and I will pray to God, wish myself the best, over and over again.

I think my biggest fear is getting an illness that I cannot control. I wake up one day, and suddenly I cannot do the everyday things I take for granted such as biking, hiking, and staying very active. It would truly kill me. I am not afraid of dying, but I am fearful of the steps leading up to it. I am 27, and am already staring death in the face for the second time; this time though I can't predict when or why.

I have been sick for about two weeks. It started with a "normal" cold and has worked its way into my system as a stomach bug now. I am extremely fatigued, and it's been grating on me; I just want it to stop. That is the background of my experience right now. My energy is depleted and my mindset is somewhat negative right now. The upside of all of this: I have been talking to a workmate and he just went thought the same thing, claiming that it was his young, toddler daughter that had made him sick. Maybe I have caught this illness from him - it's not entirely out of the question. The illness is taking so long for me to recover from!

It's funny, I have been reading about symptoms on the internet and other people's experiences, and after going through my neurotic week, I have realized I sound a lot like the hypochondriacs that I have been reading about online. I'm a fucking hypochondriac! I think I'm ok, I will survive. The only argument I have as to why it's not the same illness as my friend, is the fact I had an encounter with a couple about two weeks ago, and one of the guys was positive. I think I was fairly safe, but there is always that lingering thought; the what if that will always be in my mind every time I meet someone new who has been around the community.

How do I combat this? Either I accept it, or I realize that sooner or later it will happen: it is evitable. Or I steer clear of sexual relationships for the rest of my life, until the other party is rigorisly tested, and a firm background check has been established. This clinical approach may seem a bit anal, but we are dealing with life, which is only handled out once in it's entirety, if we are lucky.

There is no romance anymore. The days of chivalry have ended. We are now left with a culture that is infested with chemicals, disease, and problems that we can quite nail down because there are too many fucked up alterations and at the same time it's beautiful and inviting, and I cherish each day. Welcome to my paradox.

Keep the walls from falling down

It's OK
Love is only meant for some
I'm the rock
The shoulder you can cry on

I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down

I'll play it straight
While you laugh and drink and party all night long
I'll designate myself
To be the driver who takes you home
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down

You can be pretty and tragic
I'll try to keep the walls from falling down
You can be beautiful and fabulous
I'll try to keep the walls from falling down

I can't reach the pain you feel
But I'll try to keep the walls from falling down
If you can hold on
Lose your fear
I'll try to keep the walls from falling down
Falling down
Falling down

Where is your saint?
To let you know you're not alone
To bring you peace
Help me be your friend your confidante
And keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down

I don't drink beer because

I met a guy online a few days ago from Vancouver. He seemed like a nice dude; told me he had a PhD in Literature, and he looked ok on his dark photograph he passed along. Last night he arrived in Victoria and decided to phone me. Right away I could tell he was impatient.

Immediately he asked "So do you want to meet at my hotel?” I replied no, let's met somewhere in public and take it from there. "How about Swan's?” I asked. He let out a sigh of disgust and replied "No, we are not doing that". Right away I knew this wasn't going anywhere.

About a half an hour later we meet on the corner of Johnson and Broad. This guy...ok let me regain my composure. When he first sees me, he lights up and his eyes immediately scan me head to toe, taking a great deal of time in the crotch area. You could at least be a bit more subtle about it man!

This guy was dressed in black 80's track pants, a red hoodie; he was wearing glasses, a ball cap, and had a large chip out of his front tooth. He looked older than his picture and far less attractive. I hate it when guys aren't real about themselves. Sometimes guys give out pictures of themselves that are outdated; or where they no longer have a great body, or hair; or they are 20 years older -- do you think I'm not going to hold that against you? It just totally pisses me off! I knew I wasted my time but hoped to see some intelligence behind this otherwise hideous mask.

You would think you would at least make an effort to do yourself up when meeting someone. Are you that egotistical that you think people will jump in the sack with just anyone? I ask him why he made a piffy sigh when I asked him to go to Swan's. He tells me "I'm a vegetarian, and I don't drink beer"... Wait a minute! I what does being a vegetarian have to do with not drinking beer? I guess he just wanted to let me know he's a vegan at no costs. I don't think it's impressive, I mean great you don't like meat, but I don't equate that with being better than everyone else.

He's still impatient and hungry, and wants to grab some non-meat food. So I walk him to rebar, but at this point I'm so turned off, I tell him "Dude, the sex-thing isn't going to happen". I think he's a bit taken aback, and immediate his demeanor changes and he says "See ya". LOL. I think people are fucking assholes at times. As I walk away I glance over my shoulder and he's still turned towards me staring as I walk away.

The rest of my night was quite fun. I met a cool guy who's in med school and we exchanged numbers. He seems like a great guy, even though most of the night I was hitting on his friend who turned out to be straight. We will see, but I want to date; I think he's onboard with that idea. Something normal...

Coffee?

I have been talking to this extremely sexy dude online for the past week or so. He is latin, about six foot or so, incredibly built, and well you get the idea. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him when I got over to Vancouver. I called him on Saturday and had a brief conversation...

He asks me, "So, do you want to meet for sex? Coffee and Sex? Or just coffee?". I think no matter how attractive I find someone, there is a mental element that comes into play. He was into himself, totally self-absorbed, impatient, and treated this as nothing but a casual hook up. I decided I wanted neither the coffee or the sex. I turned out this hot man, because when push comes to shove, I think I need respect and I need something more than a hot body.

My weekend was fun. I helped Rico move on Friday. I think it took us a few hours and two bottles of wine, but in the end; it was completed and we were able to relax the for the remainder of the weekend. The highlights were the BED party I went to, I met two nice dudes who decided to drag me home with them. It was suprisingly fun. And, I played about 3 hours of Tennis with Rico on both Sunday and Monday. I was so sore. I guess I'm using muscles that normally do not get strained...my wrists in particular were very painful.