Can it really be thursday, already?
My, this month really is the one that got away. I have been enjoying myself so much that I seem to have let time slip right through my fingertips, right past my wide eyes and talking mouth into the abyss. This is, believe it or not, the first time I have been in a committed, stimulating, relationship in the fall season, or ever. But thats irrelevant. I am, honestly, at such a happy, elevated place in life currently which is making this year one of the best yet. This is probably not the time to go into deep, reminiscent, reflecting mode, but give me at least 2 sentences to ring out my thoughts. I really have changed enormously as a person in the last year. I feel like I am at such a concrete place, things are so right and in sync. I understand the rhythm of life, and more importantly, the rhythm of myself. My friends are all happy and progressing, learning, growing, falling, then getting right back up. I am out, and possibly as a result, am surrounded by such an inspiring, endearing, hopeful gay community. Things in the world of gay news on a grander scale are just as enlightening and hopeful. I will explain later, for those of you who have been living in a hole, or are just ignorant and choose not to pay attention, excuse the bluntness, but its the cold hard truth. Pressure's on 22, pressure IS ON. But, non, I have so much to tug your ears over, yet simultaneously, nothing at all. How to remedy this!?
I nervously gave 2 of my favorite people mix tapes as gifts of sorts this past week, and am about to dive into hours of letter writing to my girl as one of her birthday gifts. Her 20th year of birth is fast approaching and I am still swimming around in "what could be's", I need to get my act together. Letter writing has become a salvation, an outlet in which I can relay nervous words that may be impossible in real time. There is also such an charismatic essence that comes along with acquiring information a la words and words and words. Something secretive that is immediately locked into your heart. I could live through letters and potentially be happy, maybe. I also had an episode recently where I almost broke my toe while exiting my bath tub, woah. I could not imagine relaying the events of my injury to people, what a boring way to be out of commission, "oh, I was just getting out of my bathtub, to get a huge mother fucking glass of orange juice, because I was dehydrated and potentially about to pass out. I was also talking to my girlfriend on the phone as it happened and it was pitch fucking dark and before I knew it my big toe was all tangled up and subsequently I flew forward and my toe twisted and suddenly I was in heaping amounts of pain, like about to cry pain. The end." Okay, I guess that still sounds pretty bad ass, I don't feel so bad anymore.
Okay, so in the world of non-homophobic progression. I went, dressed like a yuppy hooker (not actually), to the rally today to end homophobia and abuse against the LGBTQ-lmnop, haha, community. I went with a plethora of my best friends and my lady. I feel like being dressed, noticeably impractically, took away,just slightly from me being able to focus on the actual happenings of the event. That and the fact that such a large percentage of the attendees were wearing purple. My mind was blown, my heart nearly melting. I choose to rebel against the suggested wardrobe selection purely because I am a nonconformist and I honestly didn't think it would be a big hit, I mean, were my red stripped shorts not a bold enough indication that yes, I am gay and I am here, and I fully, wholeheartedly, like everyone else, want to put an end to this nonsense. There was a lot of purple present, which made me smile. People talked of gay related anecdotes, a girl courageously sang in front of a shivering crowd, all while we smoked and stared, trying desperately to sustain some amount of warmth. When it was all said and done, and after a few borderline shitty things happened, my posse and I made our way to a coffee shop and talked relationships and types and frivolity and important topics until we got the boot. What a good night. I have the best friends in the world.
To close, my friends loved their mixed tapes, exhale. My girl brought me a bagel, a bagel with, get ready, garlic spread. It was the nicest, most thoughtful act of devotion, and it broke my heart. Those little things strike a chord with me, my god. I finally started re-reading, I was told there'd be cake, by Sloane Crosley. What a talented, witty, charming writer. Her essays make my abs hurt from laughter and my heart clench with relation to her experiences. I am also just overall envious of her perspective on life, wow. Lastly, I found another shockingly talented young, female photographer in flickrland. Not to insinuate I like them young and female, ha, but there is a running pattern. Kidding.
I will post a link to her magic.
Come back soon.