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Monday, 24 February 2014

Two Days and Two Years Ago

I've been so preoccupied with my daily routine I almost forgot, that about two days and two years ago, I wrote my first entry on this journal from the tiny living area of my friend's apartment. It was a cold winter's afternoon and I was all alone with my honest thoughts, curled up at the dining table in my depressed hoodie and sweatpants. Little did I know, what I created that day would grow on to become something so symbolic and important to my life.

Two years is not a long time to be writing something, but two years can 'feel like a long time' when you're going through a cathartic process that usually takes years. I've definitely changed, and have grown to understand the bigger picture of things. I started to maturely take more responsibility for my own life, and have adopted new ways of thinking to further augment my sense of personal enlightenment.

In terms of what I've been doing to open up more, I recently came out to my longest guy friend of eighteen years I have not seen in three since 2011. He was surprised, but couldn't have been more unconditionally supportive and loving. It is at times like these that I am grateful for the immense support system the universe silently provided behind my back.

With regard to romance, I might have gained some despondent sexual experiences within the past year, but I still have not made love, or found that boyfriend I've been determinedly harping on. I'm definitely more visible and daring on the gay dating apps with how I position myself to try and expedite more experiences, but have also acquired non-desperate principles where: "If you don't want to talk to me, don't talk to me. I need to focus on building my own life." I'm guessing that that might stem from a sense of exhaustion rather than confidence.

There are times when I am completely okay with what I tell myself, but there are also moments where out of frustration, depression, envy, love-sickness or whatever, I tend to fall back into that space of childish longing. And speaking of childish naiveté, this commemorative occasion reminds me very much of a particular hopeful post I wrote two years back titled 'The Movie In My Head.'

I remember that although I might have been heavily despondent about my situation when I wrote that entry in 2012, but somewhere inside of me, there exist an incandescent determination that was partially made to believe, in my own head, that the M two years down the road might have somehow achieved a taste of the aspired romance that was idealised. Anyway, these are just some of my thoughts on my second year writing Gay & Invisible. I don't know what's going to happen to me down the road, but hopefully I'll be in a different position, writing a different story next year.

Sunday, 23 February 2014

If You Don't Tell Your Story

"If you don't tell your story, someone else will." - Unknown

Friday, 21 February 2014

"Daddy, May I Please Borrow $50?"

I was greeted with a heart-warming story on Facebook today. Thought I'd write it down in my journal. So here it goes.

"Daddy, may I ask you a question?"

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"

"That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?"

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?"

"If you must know, I make $100 an hour."

Son: (With his head down)

"Daddy, may I please borrow $50?"

The father was furious.

"If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish behavior."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $ 50 and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

"Are you asleep, son?"

"No daddy, I'm awake".

"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier. It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $50 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, smiling.

"Oh, thank you daddy!"

Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.

"Why do you want more money if you already have some?"

"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do."
"Daddy, I have $100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you."

Monday, 17 February 2014

The Fool Who is Aware of His Foolishness

"The fool who is aware of his foolishness is wise at least to that extent. But the fool who thinks he is wise is a fool indeed." - Buddhist Teaching

Saturday, 15 February 2014

People of Character Do the Right Thing

"People of character do the right thing even if no one else does, not because they think it will change the world, but because they refuse to be changed by the world" - Michael Josephson

Friday, 14 February 2014

Some Thoughts On Valentine's Day 2014

Today, I was asked by an acquaintance from Jack'd if I was meeting anyone on Valentine's Day. I told him that although Valentine's Day was never specifically marked in my calendar, but I do hope to one day meet a guy where every day would feel like Valentine's Day. Someone whom I will never tire of seeing and making love to.

As a twenty over year old who has never celebrated a single February 14 in his life, I am often curious about my fate and awkward relationship with this commemorative day. Will it be any different 5 years down the road? Will I finally be with someone? Will I be open to embracing the traditions, the clichés, the gifts, the chocolates, the candles, the decorations and the hearts?

Or I think the more important reality check here would be, why would those things come to mind when you've never actually had a real boyfriend? 

Throughout my years of growing upValentine's Day to me was heavily regarded by default as a celebration of love, courtship and romance that was only possible and "okay" between a guy and a girl. Homosexual crushes and hopes of love with another guy were unthinkable.

Those thoughts are to be dispelled as blasphemous, scandalous secrets you take with you to your grave, and because of that, I've psychologically ostracised myself in my own head at a young age. I was confronted with the reality of what it means to have overwhelming emotions and desires that I did not ask for.

On top of being different, my life was very much brought up in a societal culture that thrives strongly on religiosity, cultural traditions and old school practices. To some indirect extend, I think the picture perfect community and futuristic good citizen was heavily indoctrinated, which gave rise to the unworthiness that came with being myself.

Furthermore, my mother and father were two very distinct strangers living under one roof. When the family unit seceded into single-parenthood in 1998, I didn't think it'd affect me in any way. Now however, I'm starting to backtrack that the issue might have unconsciously contributed to my awkwardness and lack of experience when it comes to partnership romance. It occurred to me that though I might possess great potential to love, but I've never gone through that practical résumé so to speak.

So reflecting on myself, I think I've come a long way from being the invisible outcast who didn't think that today could be applicable to me. But what I did learn about my own perception of Valentine's Day in terms of where I am now in life, is that I am capable of being a determined loving hopeful learning how to be happy on his own as a person, and at the same time, never giving up on the possibility of ever meeting that future Valentine.

If you're reading this, Happy Valentine's Day to you sincerely from my heart. Regardless if you're single, divorced, a non-believer, attached, broke, depressed, gay, black, Happy Valentine's Day! You might think that those sentiments may not be for you, but I'm telling you that they are. Claim it! My purpose of saying this is because I want readers who have stuck with me to know that I appreciate your love, and now I'm returning it in one of the simplest ways I know how.

Thursday, 13 February 2014

He Who Is Blinded By Ambition

"He who is blinded by ambition, raises himself to a position where he cannot mount higher, must therefore fall with the greatest loss." - Niccolo Machiavelli (1469 - 1527)

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

Feeling A Little Bummed-Out

I'm back to feeling a little bummed out due to a couple of silly issues that have been excavating things out of me. Normally when I'm caught in this state of mind, I usually can't wait to rush home and splash every single detail of my emotions here on the white pages. But this time, the fire that used to drive my overwhelming need to express myself through writing has faded. I can't seem to figure out if it's because I'm mentally tired and have accepted things for the way they are, or that I'm just drained from work.

Anyway from an editorial perspective, it's already mid-February and I have a public journal to run. If the Gay & Invisible Journal were some kind of publication, we would have gone bust for the absence of strong content and updates (laughs). So here I am trying to make an effort for myself, for I believe that foolish writing has to come in order for better ones to resurface again.

So it started with me feeling all sorts of horny-cum-lovesick emotions towards people. With the gym downstairs and me constantly bumping into guys I'd like to have sex with, I can't quite put my finger on what the emotions are exactly because it's a mixture of wanting take him to bed, and also being hopeful or hungry for how it feels like to be in loving attachment with another man I'm attracted to.

Restlessness also gradually became the dominant theme for the past week. Even though my days are tightly jam-packed with work and personal projects, but I find myself daydreaming a lot. I've even resorted to purposely going to the bathroom just to jerk off to good-looking images on my phone.

Then, my self-esteem issues started to catch up. I think in terms of personality and character soulfulness, I am very much at peace with the level of competitiveness they command. But in a surface-oriented society that includes myself, it's the physical acceptance that I still struggle with.

"Man that guy looks like a model, has a nicely built body and is confidently masculine. He's attractive and a natural sex magnet. You're not even close to resembling anything like that and you're just "you". You're not a conventionally attractive male and male beauty doesn't describe you. To top it off, you want something as a substitute for what you might lack. It must feel really good being him. To be somebody who never has to doubt the reality of his attractiveness because no matter the weather or occasion, he is hot. I wonder what that feels like?" There. I said it. My honest and most insecure thoughts in black and white.

Coming back to the other reasons for being bummed-out, I started to feel the pinch of not being paid a proper salary on top of a workload that is slowly taking over my personal time and after work hours. Don't ask me why, but this is how it is for now.

I was paying some bills today and it left me with nothing but emptiness. I know this is something everyone has to go through in life, but my spirit was just really dampened. For more than a year, I realised that I haven't actually had proper excess money to invest in myself. At times like these, I would normally tell myself to ride out the emptiness and just not whine. But today, I felt somewhat depressed and foolish for choosing to learn on a job, than to work in accordance with the standard protocol of being well-remunerated for your efforts.

Deep down, a part of me knows what I'm doing. To some extend I do believe in the genuine success that might be due later in the long run, but another part of me that forms the average human being living in the practical world is deeply frustrated and distraught. I am not making enough of a living, and I am not fully in place with where I want to be.

Throughout the entire drive home, a million questions, analysis and worries bombarded my head. I started to analyse my life and let the angry voices flow. I thought about the various aspects of my life ranging from love, finances, career, spirituality and self-enrichment. 

I asked myself what am I going to do about my wish to make love and experience companionship. Have I subconsciously accepted my situation and given up on a boyfriend? I pondered about my finances and how am I ever going to achieve a life of true freedom where I feel good. What about that life career that is in alignment with what I'm genuinely called to do in life?

As my car stopped at a traffic junction, I welled up due to a fireworks of emotions that started to burn inside me, and just before I allowed myself to continue being carried away with what I'm feeling, I told myself to acknowledge the bad moment and move on. Okay, I'm done. I'm gonna stop, and just take whatever it is that will become tomorrow in my stride.

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Hot Stud From The Gym Downstairs

So my work place is located on the highest level of this commercial building with a very popular premium gym chain just two floors down. Sometimes I don't know whether to be irritated, or grateful for the frequent eye-candies that come and go within the transitional space that we all occupy. Especially during a period where it's been a while since I last had any kind of fun and I'm starting to feel like I want a snack for myself.

The gym trainers in particular are always a treat because number one, they're somewhat attractive on their own, which I'm guessing is all part of the marketing strategy and image projection of the place. And number twotheir uniforms are these body hugging Polo-Ts and microfibre navy blue gym pants that accentuate every part of their physique. Chests, legs, arms, biceps, ass, hips, I could go on but that's not what I'm here to talk about.

The other day while descending in a packed elevator, it stopped by the gym floor to pick up this total hot stud on the way down. "Oh my god, wow!", I hear myself gasp internally as I blush like a teenager on the inside. Tall, well-built, blue eyes, chestnut brown hair and chiseled looks in work clothes after a shower and a shave from the gym. My heart skipped a couple of beats as I tried to digest the idea that this guy might actually not be as stunning as what I'm seeing. But deep down, I knew I was just deluding myself.

As the elevator continued its descent, I was in a complete zoned out mode and my eyes were just fixated on the strands of his still wet hair and the skin on his neck. What would a good loving make out with this fine specimen feel like?

My heart pounded increasingly with every whiff of his scent. I couldn't gauge too if I was the only one being affected by his presence, but the female-filled elevator was definitely charged with this inexplicable vibe that I swear wasn't even there before he stepped in. Somewhere between ground and basement, he disappeared through the doors.

Few days later during an upward commute to the office one morning, the hot stud unexpectedly walked into the same elevator that I was sharing with two other woman.
"Look, it's him!", whispered the giggling teenager from within. Pipe down!

He stood intimidatingly behind me in confidence and it drove me insane. This guy must be accustomed to looking good all the time. He must be used to getting all the attention and special privileges all the time. I wondered at that moment what it felt like to be in the shoes of somebody who have that kind of innate security and power.

His relaxed attire and amazing just-got-out-of-bed face suggests that waking up in the morning and going to the gym before work was his routine. I started fantasising about waking up beside him and sharing an apartment. We could have breakfast in bed or laze around on an island together. What would it feel like?

I didn't know which floor the two ladies were going to get off, but I was partially irritated with them for being in the elevator. Suddenly two stops before the gym level, they walked out and I was left to ride alone with the hot stud. Yes! Thank you God.

As the metallic doors slid shut, I took a couple of seconds and contemplated if saying something to him was really necessary to 'my life'? The answer was yes because I am somebody who prefers to savour my cocktail of regret over stones turned than stones unturned. Even if taking a glance at him was going to make me look desperate, but in the end there's still nothing to lose because my eyes would have enjoyed that two seconds of gratification.

I turned around to look at him and coincidentally, he looked up from his phone and into me. We gave each other a friendly smile and a nod in unbelievably good timing. Man, he's so cute. God.

"Morning work out?", I asked with a casual expression. "Oh yeah, just trying to get some exercise done", he replied like a natural conversationalist. 

Before I could go on, the lift doors opened to reveal the gym. "All the best", I said and he was well on his way. I spent the next minute smirking to myself like a kid and wondered if I will ever grow out of being this love sick boy. Engaging in a pointless two sentence exchange might come across as silly, but it was well worth my every breath and every accentuated heartbeat.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Life Can Only Be Understood Backwards

"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards" - Soren Kierkegaard (1813 - 1855)