Guys And Their Haircuts

Once again, it's time for a haircut. I don't know why, but there's something daunting about going to the salon that always puts me in a nervous mood. Although the idea of getting a haircut would linger in my head, but it usually takes a while before I actually make an appointment to go get it over and done with. A haircut has become an essential part of my life as my hair grows really fast. Two and a half months is probably the maximum duration I can go without looking dishevelled. However the question is, why do I find it such a chore as opposed to it being a grooming session that is meant to be enjoyed?

Moments before the cut, I often wonder about the outcome. What if it doesn't turn out well? What if it's not what I wanted? What if it's a disaster that could further degrade my confidence for weeks? The process in which you sit and witness the transformation happen in front of a big mirror makes me feel kind of awkward. Maybe, just maybe it's the fear of change and unfamiliarity. The unwillingness to let go of the quotidian image I've grown to feel safe and comfortable in.

It's embarrassing to say that the ensuing phases of my confidence, do to a large extend lie in the hands of a good hair stylist. Because whenever I get a haircut that makes me look good, I wish I could freeze it so that it stays in the exact condition, length and texture to immortalise my new found sense of invincibility. Fortunately or unfortunately, this is life and growth finds it way. Growth is good because it allows us to constantly induce change within ourselves. A world without growth would mean that we'll never get the chance to change a "bad haircut".

However, regardless of the outcome I've always felt fresh and positive after a haircut. The sense of lightness that comes after a trip to the salon certainly makes me feel different and it pushes me to look forward. Much like the seasons that come and go, with every last leaf and every new snowfall, I'm glad to be in the next.

How the Law of Attraction Brought Me To New York City And Dubrovnik

Here's a little bit of inspirational positivity to lighten up the occasional depressing mood on this blog. The other day while unpacking some items which arrived home from overseas, I retrieved a big poster that was kept in its tube container for about a year and completely forgot about its existence. The poster depicts an aerial view of Midtown Manhattan taken from atop the Empire State Building at dusk overlooking north.

As I rolled it out, I froze for a few seconds as it hit me hard that I actually was in New York six months ago, and saw that very same view while I was atop the observation deck of the Empire State Building with the wind in my face. I can still remember the sound of cars honking, along with the iconic FDNY firetruck and NYPD police car sirens echoing in the background.

I've always dreamt of visiting New York, maybe even live there someday if I'm lucky enough in life. So I bought that poster three years ago at a fresher's fair when I first started university and hung it on my student accommodation wall. It was situated nicely in front of my bed that almost every night when I lie down, my eyes would catch a glimpse of that incredible image of the-city-that-never-sleeps before falling asleep. I sometimes stare at it for longer periods out of enjoyment. 

When I graduated and moved out of my room, I packed everything into boxes to be shipped home. It's been a year since I last held that poster in my hand, and it was also well within that period that I unexpectedly went to New York.

There was another occassion while I was waiting to be served at a travel agency, there was a picture of a small picturesque town in Croatia being displayed on the digital screen. I remember being so mesmerised by that picture that I memorised the name of the place, "du-brrov-nik", Dubrovnik, and quietly told myself that someday, I will make it there. One and a half years later somehow, I found myself walking the cobbled streets and smelling the sea side breezes of that very same town.

Unravelling the forgotten poster of New York six months after my trip and suddenly realising all these things have reignited a certain sense of positivity in myself again. A picture is worth a thousand words and it's one of the most effective tool in inducing the Law of Attraction through the power of visualisation. Maybe this is nature's way of telling me that despite all the negativity, I should start believing in things again.

Sexually Frustrated!

Apart from feeling emotionally low, I've also been feeling unreasonably horny for quite some time. Despite the number of times I jerked myself off, the hormones cruising through my veins just kept wanting more. Therefore the other day while in bed, I did what I had to do again in order to relieve myself. But this time, while well into the resolution phase right after I came, I immediately found myself in tears. I was crying. The outburst was such an impactful moment that I couldn't quite understand, but yet it felt so real.

Nevertheless, it took me a while before the analytical thoughts started kicking in. I cried because I felt so pathetic, followed by a presumption that I might be lonely and sexually frustrated. I cried because I felt like an unattractive loser who still relied on masturbation to gratify my raging biological urges rather than having someone to share my perfectly healthy sex drive. It was an emotional moment etched in my head that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Even after having masturbated for days, I still couldn't find a way to get rid of my horniness or lower my uncontrollable sex drive. So I conveniently turned to porn. But right after I was done, I felt an extreme sense of guilt and was drenched in my own shame. This incident inevitably brings me back to my closeted teenage years of jerking off to gay thoughts while keeping it all to myself. After in which I would brainwash myself to partition the guilt and shame with insuperable walls of denial. Apparently things haven't changed and I'm still the same loser I was nine years ago.

I can't help myself lately as all I seem to think of most of the day is sex. My eyes would automatically swerve to every guy that comes into my radius. Everywhere I go, all I see are biceps, broad shoulders, broad chests, nice arms, nice skin, nice lips... I can't control why this is happening, but it's happening and I am not crazy. Ever since admitting to being gay, I've become even more obsessed with sex than while I was still in denial. As I pay more attention to how my obsession is affecting me daily, I've never been more inclined to question my sanity.

Feeling helplessly overwhelmed, I confided in my circle of close friends and the looks on their faces seem to suggest that I'm a mentally ill person who needs help. Which further strengthens the assumption that there are ways in which a gay person is being programmed that no straight person can ever understand. This is definitely one of them and I'm experiencing it first hand.

A straight guy doesn't have to make sure the girl is "straight" before making a move. He doesn't have to worry if it's inappropriate to approach a girl openly in the face of society. A straight guy doesn't have to hide his sexuality or justify his love for straight sex. He doesn't have to worry about being rejected because he looks average and lacks masculine beauty. Even if she rejects him, there are still about 3.5 billion girls out there who are "not gay".

So while everybody else is actively putting their libido to good use and sharing every ounce of it, here I am in tears and sexually frustrated as I deeply question if I'll ever extricate myself from the harsh realities that come with being gay, average, alone and invisible.

Feeling Extremely Low And Defeated

Hello,

I don't even know where to begin, or how to start stringing my emotions into proper sentences anymore because it’s been a rough couple of weeks and I’m still deep within my own mess. Last month in particular, I was under an immense amount of pressure because on top of all the negativity that I’m currently going through, I had to temporarily numb myself from all that I was feeling in order to concentrate on reattempting a major examination that was going to determine my graduation. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to put myself through in the midst of a depression, but nevertheless I did what I had to do and I did the best I could. 

Every day, I'm bombarded by a legion of wandering thoughts and worries. In addition to the exhaustive dreams and troubling emotions that have been incessantly invading my sleep, today I opened my eyes and once again woke up to the same depressingly horrible feeling about myself. I don't know what is happening to me, but my insecurities, negativity and depression is seriously getting out of hand and dampening my spirit to live. I have fallen into a low point in my life, trying to recover from a state of sorrow and distraught at the gradual realisation that my life is actually not sailing the dream journey I had in mind. 

Growing up for the past twenty years, I've always had a strong sense that my existence in this world has never really been a smooth or an ideal one. Things just never seem to fall into place for me. If a person's luck and destiny in life does adhere to a consistent recurring pattern, then I think I might already know the rhythm of mine and am terrified to accept how the next phase of my adulthood is going to play out. As I panic, I allowed myself to drown in my own whirlpool of insecurity that is driven by pessimism and my unwillingness to surrender to the realities of my existence, along with the inability to once again trust in the positive.

It is truly at moments like these that I find myself reopening the old "why me" trial. It feels heart-grindingly painful to look at the outside world from my shoes, and hear myself realise that this is all happening to me and it's real. "Wow, I am in this body. I have to go through life being this person and non-other. The guy who has never really had it smooth in life, who also turns out to be the average insecure gay person among a sea of better looking and performing people, is me. It's obviously me. Always have been, always will be?"

Everyone around me has moved on to admirable success, amazing jobs, great relationships, enjoying great sex and a fulfilling life as I became the weak person who collapsed and pushed the emergency stop button on his life because he didn't know how to handle failure, insecurity, depression, homosexuality, coming-out and figuring out his path in life, all at the same time.

I can't help but feel a sense of bitterness as I wonder if my friends and the people around me are rapidly enjoying themselves and riding high on the waves of life because they conveniently never had to worry about being average, physically undesirable, feeling out of place, feeling invisible, repressing their sexuality, feeling insecure or feeling like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle?

What am I going to do about building myself up professionally, about my raging undeveloped gay teenage hormones, about being comfortable with myself, about living abroad, about being emotionally strong, about my severe sense of insecurity, about being overly deep? Even while attempting to figure out how to get myself back on track, my low self esteem and body image issues have once again become my own worst enemy. Things got even harder when I came to terms with being gay. I feel so ugly and like an unwanted loser. I can't bear to look at pictures or reflections of myself. I feel so gross when I'm naked, when I shower, when I sleep. I can't even walk an open street without feeling dejected by my surroundings.

In comparison to other young adults who are thriving and moving forward, I cannot seem to thread through the underlying reason behind the spectrum of problems and the weight of the current burden I am shouldering in my twenties. I never thought that after struggling to come-out to myself, I had to struggle with accepting myself for the way I am along with the realities that come with the life and body that I have been given. Somehow I just couldn't do it and I broke down, neither was there anything I could do to change my stubbornness. It was a slap in the face as I felt helplessly cornered and trapped.

Everything was mentally and emotionally too overwhelming for me to handle that all I wanted was to be permanently unconscious, as being awake didn't give me the peace I was with myself. Ending my life would have probably meant that I no longer have to walk life in this body, but considering the number of cancer patients, tumour patients, coma patients, underprivileged kids and soldiers who are actually out there fighting for the chance to live, this foolish moment of vulnerability would have made me the most selfish person in the world and an ungrateful bastard.

Having no where to turn, I could only find temporary solace in putting myself to sleep. Lying down, a million thoughts and worries would criss-cross my mind. I would stare into the wall and wouldn't know how to help myself or what to look forward to. I can't kill myself, but neither am I driven by the motivation and optimism to live. Regardless of silent weeps that turn into sobs, falling asleep was what came after. Even so, my bottled up fears and subconscious never fails to manifests itself in my dreams as I wake up feeling exhausted and emotionally drained to an unchanged reality within the same body and person that I slept to escape. 

This unhappiness has been going on for almost a year and it's corroding my soul. I am still a complete train wreck who is contemplating whether I should ask for help. A good appetite for life is when you look forward to living it for a better tomorrow, driven by fulfilment, optimism, faith and contentment. Right now, my severe pessimism and fear of being bulldozed again is obstructing my faith and ability to ascend from a deep ocean trench, to once again feel the vastness of the sea, followed by the first liberating breath of fresh surface air.

Experiencing Gay Irrationality

I'm on a short trip away from home and once again staying in a backpackers hostel. I came to this city just to get a feel of things and to see if I might consider the possibility of temporarily finding a job here. While out and about, many attractive guys pass me by and my heart started spiralling out of control by the fourth, fifth and sixth guy. I then ended up back in my hostel bed feeling incredibly sad and cried. I cannot believe I'm emotionally here once again after trying so hard to stay strong.

Moments later, I decided to forget about my sadness and go take a bath. On my way to the showers, a really hot guy was seen checking-in at the reception and I immediately went crazy. As I shower, I tried hard not to let the sight of the new hot guy drag me back into my pool of sadness. However, as I was walking out of the bathroom, I bumped into him who was going in for a shower. Defying all forms of rationality, I immediately turned around and re-entered the bathroom to pretend to wash my face, until the reality of my foolishness hit me: "What the hell am I doing?". He obviously doesn't care or wasn't even aware of what just happened as I dried my face and left.

Back in my room, I couldn't stop wondering if he had finished his shower or which room he was staying in. I would secretly hope and imagine that he'll walk into mine and claim one of the beds that were close to me. This is truly the moment where I'm trying to convince myself that I do not possess some sort of a mental disorder, neither am I insane. So I grabbed my computer and here I am writing this.

After the shower, he came looking for a power socket in the lounge with his computer, but I was already using the last available one. With a pounding heart, I immediately started looking around for more power sockets in hopes that he'll stay and I'll get to gaze at him, maybe even tell him I love him. Unfortunately, he lifted his hand to signal that it was okay and then he walked away in search of another spot. With him gone, I'm feeling the urge of my strong desires to go look for him. With him in the same hostel, I can no longer concentrate on anything else except fantasise about how we're going to be acquainted or if there's a slight chance of me kissing his lower lip and potentially establish long distance before we decide to move in together.

So here I am, sitting in the corner trying to control my tears as I vent my frustration. I really don't know what's wrong with me, neither can I explain what I'm going through with this unreasonable insanity. It hurts so much and it's tearing me apart! How long more in life am I going to feel this way? I really can't handle the destructive pain that comes with being gay any more. All I want more than anything now is my old life back, right when I "wasn't gay". I just want to be myself and be happy again.