...

Why wouldn't I be trying to figure it out?

Lights

I'm traveling on a bus - I was 10, I think - after a student trip to Gander. We were all bussed in for the weekend for the Royal Conservatory Music Festival, where classes form choirs and compete, where young gay men are forced to share beds with their peers. I am hit with this great paranoia after spending the weekend in Gander.

My friends have distance themselves on the bus, and I am thinking back to the night before where I had to share a bed. Did I do something in my sleep? Did I give away the very thing I have been trying to hide since I hit puberty?

The world keeps flashing before my eyes. I am prone to these long boughs of depression, already at the age of eleven or twelve, and I know if it keeps up, if I don't resolve it, it will forever own me. Even at this age, I already have a few enemies and I am already an adult. I have them and they know me well. It's not because I am a homosexual, although I think it is; I think they know who I truly am. And I see one of them passing around notes.

I think the notes are about me. I think the enemy who I have shared a hotel room has finally discovered the truth and is passing around notes about me - he's outing me with little to no respect for my feelings. And I sink. It's apparent. The children around me see it and they ask "What's wrong?"

In my bought of paranoia, I even see a few kids look at the notes being passed around, then look at me, and whisper to one another that it is truly "a sin", which in Newfoundland dialects means "I feel sorry for you".

I'm sure it was something stupid. Like, a note saying "Charlie has nice glasses" or something along those lines. It's wasn't about me being gay. Although, in my mind, it was always about being gay. I have always struggled with it, and this is a small example of what I had to go through.

After that trip, and the two hour ordeal, I head home, crawl into my bed - it's four in the evening - and my mind is racing. I haven't had to deal with it in such a long time, but thinking back it was awful. It was so consuming I couldn't even function. My mother would visit and worry and I could only reply "I'm tired mom".

You see, just because I could pass, doesn't mean it was any easier for me. If anything, it was the most horrible experience of my life. I didn't have a city to hide myself in, or explore in, I had a small outpost community with nothing to look forward to. I had the worst despair you could possible imagine, the worst yearning, the worst case of depression I have ever experienced in my life.

It wasn't short term; it was from the age of eight right up until I left for BC. It was fifteen years. A lifetime. Don't ever say I can't relate, or I don't understand…

Horses

I rode a horse this weekend and was labeled as a natural. Do you know how good that feels? I mean, I knew I would be a great horse rider; I could just tell that as soon as I sat on a horse I would know what to do. We have this psychic connection, you know? It's as if the horse knew I was a good guy and decided to let me take control.

I spent this Saturday helping out on a farm. My downstairs neighbor Alice invited me to go out and I decided to go - spur of the moment of course. When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was the view; they live on a massive farm with the mountains in Washington as the backdrop. All I could see was the rolling hills of grass and farmland mixed with a mountainous range that still retain elements of snow.

The second thing I noticed was the abundance of women. The farm was filled with about eight or nine women working together, communicating, being emotional, and looking great - I guess that's what women do. A few were lipstick lesbians sporting low cut shirts, with breasts, long flowing hair, smiles; they were gods, Amazonian wonders. And I was shy for the first time in a very long time. I was out of my element and I think considered shy and uneventful.

At first - because I am now assuming this is a lesbian dude ranch - they were a bit taken aback by seeing me. I am sure I was labeled as the straight guy who was checking out Becky's jugs. I was a little apprehensive and picked up on the energy at the ranch. They were definitely guarded towards me and I knew right then and there society still has a lot of differences we don't see outright.

My daily chores consisted of digging out a trench to redirect some water, digging another trench to hide some wiring - note: I was digging horse hit, and also setting up a watering area and redirecting a hose. One of the women on the farm wanted to make it clear that she was a lesbian. I guess, maybe, they thought I was really into all the hot chicks working the farm, but I then quickly responded, "Yeah, I know, I'm gay, and it's no big deal". Her eyes lit up and a smile appears on the corners of her mouth.

The delightful part of the conversation was seeing how a lesbian's demeanor can change. In fact, it was delightful seeing how all the women responded to me after I was ousted. They smiled, they hugged, and I was now openly accepted into this environment of women who were initially guarded. I was one of the girls!

Later in the day, after all the chores were completed, I dress up as a jockey. I have the hat, a pair of farm jeans and boots, and I proceed to take this large white pony out on the tracks. From first seeing the horse I could tell he was shy. He was nervous around me initially and would look away when I addressed him. I could also tell he was stubborn.

Riding him was great although whenever the other horses came around he would disobey me and follow the pack. They are pack animals and it's something inbreed. I think I need to be more forceful with him to relay the point that I am the master. So I grab a stick - I don't' hurt him - but he knows I have a stick which accidentally grazed him once and caused him to jump.

There is nothing more rewarding then riding a great beast that has survived throughout the ages. I was propped up in the air, feeling like a giant, and watching the beauty that surrounded me with tranquility. This will be one of the times in my life when I can look back and smile.

We rode for a while and I think I developed a relationship with this unknown. I want to ride horses again and work on the farm. I want to learn how to be a farm hand because who knows what the future will hold. I may just have to revert back to that style of living once global warming completely destroys our environment. I might as well cover all the bases, I think.

Vacations...

After a recently dismissed vacation I now have a plane ticket to anywhere in Canada or the United States. Initially, I had a ticket to Florida to accompany my parents, but, it turns out my workmate booked time before me so I am stuck.

I know, I know, I would have been real keen on staying in a resort village, attending Disney World and other money grabbing intuitions that keep Florida going, and oh, the arguing, how I will miss the tears, the sun stroke, the competing to get other family members on your side. I will miss it all but right now I have a ticket to worry about.

The last time I was in Florida with my parents – 2003, I believe – we had a few major arguments and I remember my last words to them: “Hear me well; I will NEVER EVER go on another family vacation with you crazy fucks again”. I said it. It’s true. The whole point of vacation is to go and relax but when a redneck from Georgia becomes your best friend at the local resort bar while you share Sam Adams beers, you know you’re in trouble.

Yeah, I was pissed at first. In fact, I wanted to hunt down my work mate and have an all out confrontation but now I see the light. I now have control over my destiny and my precious two weeks will not be planned out by my overbearing father. I have the power.

When I phoned to cancel the ticket, which was under my name, they gave me two options:

A) Cancel the ticket and send a refund (the amount paid in taxes because it was an aero plan ticket) to my father.

B) Take back your life, regain control; cancel the ticket and leave it in your name. Note: if you choose this option your father may find out and start another argument. There is a fifty five dollar rebooking charge, period.

It was tough deciding what to do. The ticket was my Christmas and Birthday gift – although it was a bit grand – but I feel as if it’s still mine.

I’m thinking I’ll head back to Newfoundland. I mean, it’s what I really wanted to do in the first place when I found out we weren’t going to St. Pete’s or Miami and my father cheeped out and rented a condo in the fucking resort trap we call Orlando outskirts. I will go home and see ALL of my family. It will no longer be inclusive and I will get to revisit my past. My home. I haven’t seen my nephew, sister, brother, mother, aunts, uncles, grandparents in over three years. I think this is a no brainer.

I’m thinking April. I’m thinking I will rent a hot car, visit the fishing village I grew up in as an ousted gay male, and have a fun time with it. I hope to get into at least one bar fight, open a bottle of beer with my molars, have sex with a guy I always questioned, and not give two fucks about what other people think about me. The community will be tense and I relish in the chance to be there experiencing it.

After they chase me out with pitchforks I will proceed to a few more small towns where my relatives live, then, off to St. John’s for a weekend of partying in a city. I’m going to take my sister and Nephew and put them up in a hotel. The nights will be reserved for me…I don’t care what she has to say about it. I need to get laid at least once on this holiday.

So I’m excited. I’m glad everything fell through. I’m glad my co-worker booked around the same time I did – knowing full well I already had a vacation planned in Easter.

Sweet

Style

Tonight at the coffee store there is a cat sporting a waterproof, leather cape. The owner is surrounded by about 4 grown men who are absolutely enamored with the cat. She’s tabby, standing erect and proud, and looking quite eloquent and because of this absurd situation; it reminds me of my own life of style. I am thinking about my own behaviors and how they may be perceived by others. I don’t think I would ever draw the same amount of attention that a cat on a leash, sporting that slick, black cape could provide.

I find that Sundays are always the most difficult day for me. I am left with this day where I have absolutely nothing to do. Even if I think about what I could possible do out in the raining and dreary Victorian day, I am at a lost. So I choose to spend my evening sitting at a coffee store, next to an incredibly attractive man wondering…if he? I think so but to be honest I have no idea how to go about it.

My roommate Sandy is becoming interesting. He gives me fashion sense on a day to day basis. For instance, I wanted to dress up for work on Friday so I popped on my pin striped dress pants and was buttoning up my black shirt when he gives me the one over and says “Charlie, you’re worst then any straight guy I have ever seen. A straight guy wouldn’t even do a black on black combination,” glancing up and down with a look of disgust. He's not good at hiding his contempt of me facially. He is an open book when it comes to displaying emotions and I know right away when something is wrong.

I am rushed back into the room, amused but also insulted, because I like my style. I come back out with a white polo (with black stripes) and a pair of casual pants. Again the once over, and after some thought, I finally get an approval. “That’s much better,” as he gives me the thumbs up. A delicate smile traces the lines of his mouth.

I like my style. I think it’s my uniqueness that separates me from everyone else. It’s my fashion, and it’s characteristic of the West Coast, and to be honest, I think Sandy is the one who is more close minded when it comes to fashion choices. What he does in terms of personal style, anyone can duplicate.

"We need to take you shopping Charlie," there is no arguing that statement.

Today we go to the Guess store that he manages. My mission is to find a pair of jeans that fit me properly in all the right places. I have never paid more then sixty dollars for a pair of jeans in the last four of five years, and to look through the stock of jeans with prices averaged to about a hundred and twenty dollars, I have become a little overwhelmed.

Sandy is a pro and right away recommends two or three pairs for me and rushes me off to the change room. The first pair I try on are Falcons, which means nothing to me, but if you ask anyone at Guess they are the ones you want to wear. I am looking at this slim fit, faded, extremely lean looking jeans with a button fly, and proceed for the first fitting.

I find because I am not stereotypically a tight jeans kinda guy, even though I am a size 29, the jeans are very revealing. My butt is completely nude in these jeans, my legs are exposed, and I don’t mind it, but I am feeling a little naked. The buttons on the jeans give me very little breathing room in the stomach area. I am grasping for air.

As I waddle out of the change room to find Sandy, he sees me, and, looks me over and he tells me they look great.

“Ummm Sandy," as I cringe in fear a little, "I find them a bit tight around the waist and they are very nude on me,” I am pleading with him to understand that this is not me.

“They will stretch in time, trust me. You look great in them, you have to get them.” End of story, done. There will be no more pleading because I know his personality.

“I don’t know Sandy, maybe I should look at a couple more pairs. I’m not feeling too comfortable in these, and I am afraid I may gain a pound and they won’t fit anymore,” I’m chuckling to myself because of the absurdity of the situation and all I hear in return is a deep throated heaving sigh. It’s the “you’re impossible Charlie” sigh.

I default back to another pair that I eyed before that he frowned upon. They were a size bigger – note I need breathing room – and it didn’t feel like I was entirely naked. I try them on, showcase them to both Sandy and his workmate Leah, and I am given the OK. It’s not an “I love them and you should wear them forever” but it’s enough to satisfy him into thinking I’m not a complete unfashionable waste of his time.

Fashion sense is one small part of our relationship. In a way I'm doing it to find common ground; I know it interests him and I want to compliment him by gaining his advice. It is a “I’m gonna make you look good if it kills me” kind of relationship that I am open to.

As I left tonight to head to the coffee store, I dress up in my room, quite proud of the choices I made. My ensemble consisted of an Industry tight fitting, jockey, long sleeve shirt with a white front and gray sleeves; my new pair of jeans which I think are hot; a brown, blue, gray zip up sweater; a brown tight fitting jacket; and a pair of brown and jean bowling-like shoes. Whew, a mouth full.

I am excited to show him my style, and I know deep down inside that there is no way he could criticize this planned out combination that most people would think was cool. Ohhhh…I forgot to mention, I am wear a really cool green Aussie hat. I walk out to the living room and ask him what he thinks. There is no way he could tear this down, impossible, I guarantee it will go over well.

“You look like an old man”, he replies. I am stunned. Right then and there I know that I cannot rely on his opinion anymore. This is a great get up. I know, in my experiences in Victoria that this would go over well. I think I have learned that not everyone is right. Just because someone considers something to be cool or fashionable doesn’t mean that it’s what the general public will respond to in a positive manner.

We are all individuals and should live that way.

The Eurpoean Dream

I have a confession to make, sigh, it’s a tough one; I have a feeling a lot of guys will have a major problem with me when I fess up. I wrote a note at the Y and placed it in the suggestion box, it said:

“There are gay men having sex in the sauna (steam room)”

-- A concerned citizen

Maybe I am a prude? Maybe I like going to an establishment that doesn’t have tons of gay men around having sex in strange places. I am concerned I may step on something. I mean, what if I went into the steam room and sat down in a spot that was just used for gay sex? I’m a person who dislikes germs; the thought of sex being carried out in a family-oriented establishment grosses me out.

Regardless, the gym is a place for people to work out. It’s not a place to make me or anyone else uncomfortable. I will also relate this discussion to other places such as parks where grown men have sex during the day, or public washrooms at malls, or government buildings, whatever. You know, initially I felt bad about leaving that note but the more I think about it, the better I feel - and the angrier I get.

We have this disease in our culture. It’s slowly degrading each individual man if he isn’t strong enough to think for himself – and what we are left with are people who have their souls chipped away. This posting is very judgmental and I know a lot of guys will hate me for my opinions, but you know what, I am entitled to it.

We all want equality. We all want to be a viable member in our communities, to strip away the stigma of being sex prevents, pedophiles, trolls, delinquents, but how can we if we continue these unfavorable practices? Most of my friends are straight and guess what? They all know about the park, most of them know about the gym, washrooms, etc and what we are doing is giving them reasons to look down on us, to judge us, to label us.

I think the younger generation is coming around, but the older generation is worrisome. They still have the “it’s just sex” mentality that will forever prevent them from having a monogamous, truly intimate relationship. Yeah, and if you read through my previous entries, I am not a prude; I have done questionable things in my life. But I DO not contribute to the labels associated with gay men (minus being free about casual sex which I think is something society reclaimed in the 60’s anyway).

My brothers, wake the fuck up. If you’re lonely…go to a spin class or buy some art supplies. I know people in my life who continually partake in risky behavior. If they were caught they’d probably lose their job and have their criminal record forever tainted. They would be labeled sexual offenders; try getting a job after that report. I guess I lack a firm understanding why someone would want to play with their life in such a way. It’s similar to the ‘my friend getting HIV story’ to some degree.

I hope now that we are being more accepted, and now that I see kids coming out earlier and earlier in life, and my knowing that kids think it’s acceptable, if not trendy to be gay, the next generation will be better. I want this utopia where we are no different that anyone else. I feel that way for the most part. I live in a very accepting place and it’s comparable to more progressive areas of Europe where it’s not even an issue anymore. I want that and WE will get it. For all of you that want to continue down your path of self-destructive behavior – go for it – but stay away from me. I have made an effort to keep all negative energy away from me, I consider you spoiled and uneducated – if not lacking in your own self-love.

It’s a journey my friends, choose wisely. Hate me if you will but I am what I am. I have a feeling the gay mafia may be coming after this entry :).

Warning

Crew Only, originally uploaded by copeseticnature.

Free NFLD

I have to give a shout out to this blog I read on occasion. This chick is absolutely hilarious.

http://queserasera.org/

On a side note, this is day number three of NOT SEEING ANY GUYS. I feel free, you know? It's like this horrible weight has been lifted on my shoulders and I can now concentrate on me again.

I hope you detect the sarcasm in the last few sentences…but honestly, I need to start thinking about me and take myself away from it all. It seems like it’s one person after another lately, I mean, I’m not complaining but it’s strange; I am not used to this abundance.

I have met a fellow Newfoundlander a couple of days ago - he seems really cool so I'm not sure how much longer I can hold off. I know, I know, I'm sounding boy crazy…

I have always wanted to meet a fellow Newfoundlander that is gay. I have met one or two before but they didn't cut it. This one...seems really cute. I have these fantasies of settling with a small town boy like myself and entertaining our Newfoundland traditions like cooking Fish n' Brews on Sunday, having cold plates, going ski-dooing, importing some moose meat. I know it sounds lame but it's an important connection to my past.

We could both take trips back to Newfoundland to visit our family and yeah...I know he appreciates our home, I know that it's a place where he has strong ties and because of that I am very attracted to him. He looks 'Black Irish' like myself, and as we talk about our lives, I see a lot of similarities.

I'll keep you all posted how it turns out. Another loop in the complex matrix of dating Charlie. Sometimes I wonder if I am going about this the right way. I can see myself pissing off some guys in my life once I find Mr. Right. I'll have to learn how to make myself cry or something to seem apologetic when I do the break ups. He he. Seriously, I am not dead on the inside...I'm warming up, my soul is starting to come around again.

I went to my weekly Spin Class last night (I do this twice a week) A.K.A freewheeling. I have been avoiding the Monday slot because the lady who teaches is fucking Satan reincarnated. Not only does she make us climb hills for ten minutes straight, she also announced that she is three months pregnant. I want to stay away from that shit as long as possible.

The new instructor (Tuesday and Thursdays) is kind of cool. Although, she doesn't let us warm up and I find her a bit scatterbrained. Her music is better though. We even got to hear some 'Smells like Teen Spirit' for our wrap up. I am becoming addicted and lean. The two are great reinforcements for my obsession with staying fit. I guess I'm an official spinner now.

Because of my decision to stay away from the men in my life, during the spin class I found myself looking around. I was wondering what guys were in the class with me, I was noticing who was dropping by to watch, and once in a while I would look out of the glass front of the class to see men coming and going. I have to find a new hobby and fast.

Happiness is a warm gun

My friend Leia stayed over with me last night. I picked her up after the gym and she packed her bag and headed to my place for the night. We had dinner, watched a movie, and then shared the same bed. It kind of feels like we are married.

Leia is an interesting girl. She is from Ontario and was a tom boy most of her life; she totally digs guys. She is the kind of girl who heads out with me, crosses her arm most of the night without a smile (unless she’s with me) and the guys proceed to flock all over her. I guess there are a number of reasons 1) she is a challenge; 2) she isn’t the stereotypical Victoria girl; and 3) she’s pretty hot.

I met her at the gay bar one night. I was with a friend of mine and noticed this chick staring at me. She would then turn to her friend and whisper about me. I was completely pissed off and was sure she was picking me apart in some way or another, so I approach her. I remember being upset and asking her why she was staring at me. Like, what’s your problem lady? The only response I get is “you’re hot”…, so now we are friends for life.

Normally I don’t get along with girls. I’m not a feminine guy and I think they find me frustrating. I am not the ideal gay friend that they dream of having. But with Leia it works out perfectly because she’s more like a guy. She is the kind of chick that would go to the lumber store, buy wood, and then build her own shelves (I’ve seen her do it). Leia is the kind of girl that would ask to start up a poker tournament, or talk about the guy she nailed the night before, or sit home drinking beer out of a can. My kind of girl.

She’s basically everything I’d want in a guy. Even her parents have this sneaking suspicion that she may play for the same team. When Leia moved in with her current roommates…one girl is a lesbian from her home town. Her parents congratulated her on the relationship and wish her the best. Leia quickly told them, “Mom, dad, I’m not a Lesbian…” Where they only respond, “Yeah…right Leia”.

Her room, oh God, her room. Let’s just say it’s more masculine then my own home. She has a black comforter, large guy-like shelves, a black lamp, two wall sized posters – one of a girl; and, yeah, what can I say, if I walked into the room I would have been shocked to find out it was a girls place. The icing on the cake is the rainbow blanket she has thrown on top of her bed – I keep telling her it’s a gay blanket but she tells me her mom gave it to her so it’s special. I’m thinking her mom gave it to her because she thinks Leia is a lesbian and she’s trying to support her. It’s a never-ending cycle.

Regardless we had fun. We talk about guys and life and…I don’t know, she reminds me of home and the people I am used to dealing with. Over here it’s different. People are so guarded and it’s harder to have an actual connection. It’s because we are all busy, and selfish, and absorbed, and…we’re just trying to make it and sometimes bringing new people into our lives may cause a distraction.

Right now I am in the middle of a love triangle. I have met a great guy from Nova Scotia. He’s an Iron Man competitor, has the build of a hockey player, is totally new to all of this, and is shy. He is totally non-scene, an architect; intelligent…the list goes on. And then there is Hunter who I have been seeing for a while now. Hunter has a lot of the above qualities (minus the Iron man and hockey player build) and on top of that he is totally unique. He is into the scene though. So the dilemma…what do I do? I think they both like me and I am not sure if I like either.

It’s the sad story of my life. I meet all these incredible people and then my interest waivers. Instead of thinking about them, I get distracted by a hot guy at the gym or someone online. I’m beginning to question whether or not I should ever be in a relationship. I miss Ben though (Iron Man) and Hunter. That just sounds wrong…I need to do something about this and fast.

I think Ben maybe something more long term. I don’t want to say it out loud but last night I missed him. And I want my friends to meet him; I want to include him in my life and get to know him more.

The night I met him I completely brushed him off. He chatted me up and I barely listened, and then cut him off telling him I was heading home with my friends. After I leave the club and head to the pizza place, he shows up again. We talk more, but I wasn’t interested at all. Now…he managed to find me online and we started to hang out. Right away he grows on me. And the more I hang with him the more I am interested in seeing him again and again and again.

It’s funny how attraction works. I would have never expected to have an intimate relationship with him. He totally wasn’t my type but his personality, East Coast masculinity, humor, intelligence, it all caught up to me and now I am left in a state of confusion.

So yeah…love triangle. Fuck.

Matinee

You take your white finger
Slide the nail under the top and bottom buttons of my blazer
Relax the fraying wool, slacken ties
And I'm not to look at you in the shoe, but the eyes, find the eyes

So find me and follow me through corridors, refectories and files
You must follow, leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee
The dark of the matinee
It's better in the matinee
The dark of the matinee is mine
Yes it's mine

I time every journey to bump into you, accidentally
I charm you and tell you of the boys I hate
All the girls I hate
All the words I hate
All the clothes I hate
How I'll never be anything I hate
You smile, mention something that you like
How you'd have a happy life if you did the things you like

So find me and follow me through corridors, refectories and files
You must follow, leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee
The dark of the matinee
It's better in the matinee
The dark of the matinee is mine
Yes it's mine

So I'm on BBC now, telling Terry Wogan how I made it
What I made is unclear, but his deference is and his laughter is
My words and smile are so easy now
Yes, It's easy now
Yes, It's easy now

So find me and follow me through corridors, refectories and files
You must follow, leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee
The dark of the matinee
It's better in the matinee
The dark of the matinee is mine
Yes it's mine

I'm mad at you

Everyone wants something epic in their life. Something to look back on and say “I did that!” I want to conquer the world. I want the people in my life to excel and be happy. I want a utopia that is blissful, where there is no suffering, where I don’t go to sleep at night with guilt hanging over me for the lives I overlook.

My friend is on an epic journey now. I found out this weekend he is positive as we lay in bed together in the wee hours of the morning. I have known him for a number of years – I have even dated his ex who broke his heart and forever changed him. We were on the town together, and at the end of the night, I went back to his place to hang out.

He pointed out some cancer spots all over his arms and immediately I knew that form of carcinoma. He’s fucking 26. 26 fucking years old and I can do nothing but hold back my sorrow. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I don’t want for him to see that it’s not ok. And yeah, you really fucked up, my friend. There’s no getting out of this one.

So we spend the rest of the night talking about it. We address the what-ifs associated with the disease.

“What if…when I get older…what if I have to start injecting myself with drugs, like Greg, you know Greg, right? I’d kill myself before I get to that point, I wouldn’t be able to handle it,” he tells me. I hear him sighing with grieve. I hug him and squeeze him and I tell him that he's strong. The drugs nowadays are much more advanced then Greg’s time. He’s had it for fifteen years. “I never want you to give up, man”. “I’d be lost”.

“Ok, ok…but what if I go on a date with a really cute guy, like Todd. How do you think Todd would react if he found out?” I know how Todd would react. He would hear the words, and then start thinking about an escape.

“Todd’s a complete jackass man. If he reacts negatively then he’s not the right guy for you”. He has this opportunity now to do something unconventional. This disease will ground him severely and I think at the age of 26 he will finally become an adult. It’s sad to see it, but this is his path in life.

It’s still around guys. And I can name about ten other people I know, who are all close to me, who I have dated or befriended, who also have the virus. I don’t want to see anyone else suffer. I don’t want to see gay males fall into the trap of self-destructive behavior. We are a minority, and yes we ARE NOT accepted, but that doesn’t mean you can’t travel this word seeking self-love and acceptance. It’s out there. I have it.

“Its’ ok man. I love you. And I want you to know that you have me for life now. I will forever be loyal to you,” I’m fighting back the tears. No, why bother, I’m fucking crying and I don’t give a shit. It’s one more person I have to worry about now. I’m going to see a lot of friends die in the upcoming decade. And every time a death occurs it will take another piece of my soul with them; I’m afraid it will get to the point where I will no longer be affected, and when I react that day, I will be scared out of my wits.

It’s a wake up call. It’s something that has plagued me again and again in my own life. Getting calls from disease control because someone I had a relationship with is now positive, or dating someone who is positive and then having myself go completely wacko because or it…or…what does it matter. All I know is, I am twenty eight years old and I will do everything in my power to stay healthy.

I’m not an angry guy but when I see the hurt, pain, suffering, whatever…when I see the lives of my brothers fade, I want to scream at God. I want to ask whatever force create this elegant universe, WHY? Why do you want us to suffer?

Without suffering we are nothing.

New Years is approching

I’m sitting on one of the Vancouver Island Ferries today waiting to take off. I’m headed to Vancouver to see Hunter. I know it’s been a while since I have written, what can I say? I blame the Christmas season among other things but assure you I will be back at it on a regular basis as soon as possible.

I’m not sure where next year will take me. I’m not sure if I’ll be in the same position, or a different position at the same company, or if I will be doing something completely different. I hear change calling miles away, and more and more, it’s beginning to tug at my soul. I am not one to just stay stagnant…

I have a feeling this weekend could change my life. I could be in love by the time I get back, or I could be disappointed that Hunter wasn’t everything I thought he would be. Only time will tell where this path in life will take me and when it all ends. I guarantee though, this will be one of the last times I will open myself to the possibility of being with someone for some time.

I’m looking around the ferry, noticing who’s who. I’m watching the dynamics of loud children, watching the hot guy in line to get a bus ticket - I want to offer him a ride - and finally the destitute hordes of people who will never be as fortunate. I didn’t realize how many ugly people there were out there until I arrived on this ferry today. It’s good for the soul and the male ego. In Victoria you are surrounded by so many beautiful people that it messes with what is real and what is normal in this world.

I’m glad to be away from it all. I’m glad to once again leave – although this is my third time off the island this month alone. I’m not that isolated; I keep wanting more. I keep wanting to find something amazing and meaningful in this life. I don’t know if I will ever find it but I assure you that I will never stop looking. To do so would only be admitting defeat.

I don’t really have a New Year’s resolution this year. Wait, come to think of it, I do have one: to no longer fear change and the unknown; or all that is associated with it. I will be brave once again and I will draw strength from the person who escaped the shackles of conformity and judgment. I wonder if I am still the same person who moved 7,500 Kilometers away to find himself, desperately in need of something purposeful. I am still that person but I think corporate Canada has given me a beating.
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I’m deep today, don’t mind me, it comes in phases. I guess it’s the anticipation of meeting a possible long term relationship. Or the knowing that a New Year is approaching and I am perhaps in a rut? I’m not sure. The only thing I do know is that I will end this year with a bang.

I always wonder how easy it is to tell a straight guy from a gay guy. I mean some are blaringly obvious and others mend in so well that they are like one of them – the breeders, that is. I tend to think I blend in, then again, who knows how I am perceived by others. I eat politely, dress in style, and take care of myself, then again, so does the majority of people in my age in Victoria. I wonder though…Small things like shoes, the choice of jacket, and mannerisms are sometimes deal giveaways as to how straight a person is. I tend to think that I have a strong sense of who is who and silently hope that the men I am infatuated with are in fact gay. They aren’t. I chase the pipe dream of having something normal and I know full well it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

I think we are up to speed, yes no? I always wondering how much is too much? Am I too open? Do I think too much? Or am I normal and I am behaving the way the majority of people who think behave. I hope for the latter; I hope that the majority of people out there actually have something to contribute. As I am surrounded by loud children, the dulled out voices of nearby passenger, the turning of pages, and the onslaught of handsome men roaming about, I want freedom.

There is this guy sitting across from me on the ferry. I’d like to suck him off. He’s sitting right across from me. Dark featured, nice height and frame although I can’t stand the way he talks and his look is a bit unusual. Still, I think if I could forget what I have heard so far I could anonymously take him in the washroom and have my way with him. It look like he has a big package. When I say big, I think it would be more then enough, more then a handful. I want it so bad. He’s leaning back now and I want to keep staring at him.

He’s with these old fucks. They are both conservative and they have good posture. I would guess they are both approaching their 60’s. God, to think that they have made it through all these years together. I am amazed, and hopeful, that the rest of society could use these absurdly boring people as an example that things could work out – although I can’t imagine who would want that kind of life. Ah, if they only knew what I was writing; if they knew how disturbing my mind is I doubt they would be sitting next to me. I doubt that they’d even want to share the same ferry with me. I mean, I would be horribly uncomfortable if I were the guy sitting across from me. I practically raped his crotch with my eyes. I’m glad he didn’t stand up, it would be open season then.

Oh God, they are talking about cruises now. How stereotypical of someone their age. Why not talk about their recent travels to China or India? No, it had to be a cruise and because of that last statement I will judge them for the rest of the trip. God that old man is so opinionated. He is spewing trash out of his mouth and I’m biting my tongue not to jump on him. I hate people who generalize.

And come to think of it, the guy I liked five minutes ago, well, he has a funny shaped body and bad teeth. He’s kind of fat also. Not that I’m superficial or anything, I could be open to getting to know him…if I were drunk enough.

To all my fellow readers, have a great New Years. Think about the year ahead, but not too much, ignore the polar ice caps melting – did you see the News today? A large chuck on the northern ice cap broke away today. Depressing. I wonder what the next fifty years hold. Will we be no better off? Will genetic testing take over and disease rum rampart? I see so many new things occurring, and I also see the world turning a blind eye to it all. I pray that green energy takes over and we start thinking about the future of the world. We are no better off when we were apes. It’s still dangerous and unknown to us all. Have a great year and wish me luck on my journey this weekend.