Feeling it.

Living Space

Deep thought...

Or constipation?

As Fantasies Clash With Reality

I think when something you moderately enjoy becomes a requirement, it sort of loses its initial flare. Sure the concerts were fun to go to. I felt like I was experiencing something worth while. But now that I have to sign in and complete a packet of concert reviews for a grade makes it seem a bit too stifling. I don’t know maybe I’m just lazy.

Anyway, so when I was there, I sat at the first seat I came across despite the room being almost empty. As it slowly filled up with people, I looked up from my book and noticed a guy who sat in front of me. He wore a fitted white shirt with blue trim around the collar and sleeves, wrinkles everywhere as if it had been compressed for days. As the show continued, I found myself more captivated by him rather than the music. Or should I say, the music added a forlorn quality to the situation that was probably atypical of its intentions.

I loved the shape his hair made. The shaggy imperfection that made it interesting to look at, the impression of moisture as if it had just recently been cut. Above his left ear were a few strands of hair that were longer than the rest that maybe slipped by unnoticed told of a length once traveled. As he sat there, I noticed his wrists where fairly thin compared to the hand that kept his head afloat. I traced his arm back to his back and took notice of the hint of hair that coated his pale skin. It was equally thin yet his body seemed pretty substantial. Skinny without being third-world. Definitely enough to fit a medium sized shirt.

Gradually he would slouch, then prostrated himself back up by placing both hands on either side and correcting his posture, only to hunch over so that his hand could rest on his chin. With his left hand he would trace his brow, then move over to his mouth before finding a place on his cheek. He repeated this in various orders as his right hand propped it up or clutched his side between his chest and his arm. Almost instantaneously I could feel myself sliding my hands across his arms. I wondered what his hands would feel like cupping my face. I could feel his stubble against my lips. His arms around my body. Us lying together, lost in a sea of blankets.

I tried to include my appearance into the thought and suddenly it dissolved. Somehow the thought of me with anyone seemed out of place. Like I didn’t possess some kind of inherent quality that people have to be apart of something. You can tell when there’s a connection between two people. I just couldn’t fathom one of those people being me.

Photo Books and Disconnections

So it’s been 3 days since I’ve last heard from Melancholy. I must say that it has taken me very little time to get over that whole episode. Of course there are a few moments when I feel like I want to cry but something is holding me back. I just wonder how it’s going to be with the next guy, if there is another guy at all. This just makes me more aware of all my insecurities and the ineptitude of maintaining a relationship that I don’t know how to overcome.

I was sitting in my room for awhile prolonging going out to shoot photos. When I got ready I stood in the living room for a bit and started to get anxious. I was afraid that someone would see me shooting and react in some kind of negative way like I’d either have to fight for my life or they would criticize me. I suddenly felt a strong urge to simply become invisible. That I would be much more comfortable if I could do what I wanted to do without the fear of getting caught or criticized. It’s just this internalized fear that I’m going to get in trouble that has me immobilized, and all I wanted to do was shoot dry grass.

I was flipping through a photo book I bought this morning. It’s called Texas Twins by Howard Roffman. His photography strikes me as very typical gay photography. It takes quite a bit to spark my interest in terms of photos but it was mainly the subject matter that drew me into this book. The brothers Morgan and Nash are identical but according to the description, their personalities are anything but. And surprisingly enough, one is gay and the other is straight. When I bought the book, in the gay capital of the city no less, the cashier guy (a portly man with glasses and a red button down) quickly glanced at the cover and remarked, “Now that’s just disgusting.” I was initially surprised. It struck me as odd that he would say something like that about an item that a customer was buying, especially considering the neighborhood. “I’m just very interested in the fact that one is gay and one is straight.” I simply replied. “Oh. I didn’t know that.” He said with a hint of remorse.

It didn’t really bother me to think that by my buying something he perceived as “disgusting” would make me disgusting as well. It actually increased my pride in a way to think that I had the ability to appreciate something that he had absolutely no idea about. Something he quickly labeled at face value and made a definitive judgment before I informed him that no, they don’t do anything sexual to each other. I mean honestly, how old are you? It definitely angered my friend who was with me, but I couldn’t care less.

As I was flipping through the pages, I was listening to Balmorhea’s Baleen Morning. Part of the charm about this book is trying to decipher who was who. Nash is straight, Morgan is gay. Nash is the impetuous rebel and Morgan is grounded and eager to please. You almost feel as if you get to know these two guys personally with each page. About halfway through I felt a wave of sorrow come over me. I don’t know if it was the music, or if it was the image of the two brothers together but I suddenly wanted to cry. The strength of their relationship had just occurred to me and the thought that they would always have each other even if their entire world fell apart was gut wrenching. The fact that one brother knew the other was gay and was fine with it was incredible. And somehow, the thought of me sitting alone locked in my room out of fear that someone would by chance walk in and catch me looking at a suggestive [male] photo book seemed utterly depressing to me.

Movies and Arguments

I got back from watching Jumper with Wii awhile ago. I personally thought it was awesome. I thought the girl who played the older Millie should have been recasted. Young Millie looked like a sweet girl-next-door type and the older one looked like a whore. Not saying she was ugly or anything, but she was far from girl-next-door. I also thought that the ending was really awkward. It just seemed like it was an afterthought, and maybe a prelude to a sequel.

I totally forgot Jamie Bell was going to be in it. I was totally psyched when I saw his name in the opening credits. I’ve loved him ever since Billy Elliot. He was pretty much the highlight of the movie for me. His fighting tactics were truly epic and entertaining.

After the movie was over, Wii started to get all analytical. I don’t know if it was because he was bashing something I liked that got me so riled up, or maybe it was the fact that I was sort of in charge of this whole outing and he was giving me shit because he didn’t seem to thrilled with the movie but I drove to his house as fast as I could to drop him off. I just wanted to get away from him as quick as possible. On the way home I considered seriously cutting him off. I mean we don’t talk to each other much anyway so it’s not like it would be such a big deal or anything but this I guess, disappointment is very different from all the other times I was upset with him.

Before it was all self inflicted pain that caused me to dislike him. This is the first time that he’s actually done something to upset me. This actually killed whatever feelings I had left for him. I don’t know if I’m just overacting because he disagreed with me, or if I’m upset because he was making me feel like a jerk for having suggested an “entertaining but sub-par movie.”

He just kept nitpicking all these miniscule details and I just wanted him to shut up and talk about something else. Ugh. I don’t know how to deal with things. I know that I’m probably going to feel like a jerk for possibly blowing this out of proportion but right now I’m just tired of feeling like a failure.

Responsibilities and Networking.

Sometimes I feel a certain irresponsibility about myself. Certain things that I should be concerned about that I’m not. This past Monday I decided to skip my morning class since I stayed up late the night before. My dad had been making inquiries as to when I should go visit my great grandmother who has recently found residence at the hospital for some reasons I’m not yet clear with (I didn’t feel the need to ask). So when I was utilizing my free time that morning until my photography class at 3, he came into my room saying that we should go see her before she dies implying that it would be soon.

When we got there I felt a bit uneasy. Not really because I was going to visit someone on their immanent death bed but that I was surrounded by old and dying people. The air within the interior was heavy and thick very much unlike my experiences at other hospitals where the air conditioner was constantly turned on. When we got to her room, some of my other relatives were there already. I just stood by the dresser as far off as I could without seeming too cold or too eager. I didn’t feel a sense of responsibility towards her which does seem sad I admit, but it’s on the same level with the rest of my family. I don’t feel much sense of responsibility towards any of them. Just a few days ago my dad mentioned “Why do you act like a big brother towards Josh [my younger brother]?” My initial thought was Why? No one acted that way towards me.

Truth is that I’m afraid to make the first move. I’m afraid to do anything. I was out with an acquaintance Christina when she went to go get her eyebrows done. While she was in the back room her sister Mary needed the keys to the car and asked me to get them. We were standing there at the closed door which housed a do not disturb sign on the doorknob and I froze. I started to panic. I don’t like being put in a situation where I have to accept responsibility for my actions because I’m scared of feeling inadequate. It’s one thing to feel like I’m not worth it, but it’s another thing to hear from someone else that “Yea, you fucked up.” I did it anyways and I didn’t get yelled at or anything, but the fact remains that my initial reaction towards the situation was fear.

I know what made me that way, and as much as I want to blame him for it, what’s done is done. It’s pretty much up to me to say you know what, I don’t like being this way. But the thing about accepting that level of responsibility for oneself is the accepting the possibility that you may fail, and that terrifies me.

On another note, I left my contact info with the local gay club at my campus. I noticed two rainbow flags and figured why the hell not. Of course, it took me passing the table 3 times before I could even do anything, and the only reason why I got the nerve to do it was cause they were busy talking to another guy and I just stood there. Before I was very hesitant about joining one because I didn’t want to be associated with those kinds of people. I had it in my head that if I were to be apart of that sector of society that people would start to expect me to harbor all the stereotypes that come with it. But I’ve grown more comfortable with myself, or at least with that facet of my personality. That and the idea that maybe I’ll expand my network and maybe even meet someone of dating potential. Who knows? [Actually, the guys plus one girl at the booth weren’t that much to look at. But hey, that’s probably a good thing. The last thing I need is another unrequited love. And maybe one of them will surprise me.] And if I don’t like it, I can just get the hell out. No harm done. Because right now, I know of no gay people I could simply talk to or hang out with. All the ones I know are online and several miles/states away. And I’m tired of typing to a screen.

By the way, regarding that image in my previous post. That was for a Devil May Cry 4 contest up on gaygamer.net. And I won, along with 4 other people. Hooray for me. Finally a game for my ps3 entertainment center + games also console.