This is what is currently up on my profile page at Downelink, a social networking site for the local LGBT community. I've actually contemplated on having it deleted, but it holds so much sentimental crap I thought maybe I'd give it a few more years before I take it out.
KADRAMAHAN 2011
As confusing as it may seem, I don't really know what I want. I am currently on a phase where a lot of things matter more than what you probably might tag as flimsy and whimsical and dreamy and --God I cringe at the thought of that four-letter word, Urgh.
I've done accept the fact that with each coming month --week even, thousands of bright-eyed guppies, most if not all hotter than the batch prior, debuts into the proverbial pool of the shallow and superficial gay scene. I could say I'm jaded, but that's too harsh a term. Life led me to this, and I won't say 'reduced' because that's a wee bit too cynical for my tastes. I've reached a certain state where entering a commitment requires more than the delusions I've carefully preserved from my younger ideals. It's taxing, to say the least. And who am I but a fool to think that love is as simple as the boy-meets-boy-wham-bam-sparks-fly-you-like-me-I-like-you-let's-make-out-now-and-be-together-forever equation.
If it's maturity then I would have gone pat myself on the back, congratulating myself for a great job done and left it at that. But still, I can never deny the fact, that somewhere along the shifts between my swamped preoccupied vigor and the distracting solitary stillness lies a void, a hole that I, precariously try to disregard.
I've done accept the fact that with each coming month --week even, thousands of bright-eyed guppies, most if not all hotter than the batch prior, debuts into the proverbial pool of the shallow and superficial gay scene. I could say I'm jaded, but that's too harsh a term. Life led me to this, and I won't say 'reduced' because that's a wee bit too cynical for my tastes. I've reached a certain state where entering a commitment requires more than the delusions I've carefully preserved from my younger ideals. It's taxing, to say the least. And who am I but a fool to think that love is as simple as the boy-meets-boy-wham-bam-sparks-fly-you-like-me-I-like-you-let's-make-out-now-and-be-together-forever equation.
If it's maturity then I would have gone pat myself on the back, congratulating myself for a great job done and left it at that. But still, I can never deny the fact, that somewhere along the shifts between my swamped preoccupied vigor and the distracting solitary stillness lies a void, a hole that I, precariously try to disregard.
God knows what shit that hole needs.
I remember what someone told me a few months back. That the only time advisable for me to take chances, again, is when I don't see love --or someone, a prospect- as some form of answer, water to quench the fire --someone to save me from that emptiness most of us long to fill.
Now as sickeningly idealistic as all that sounds, I know breathing it all in would take a lot from me and my principles, so I took it with a grain of salt. But just recently, it came to a point where I asked myself, maybe... maybe that advice held a truth to it. See the thing is, most of us were taught that a commitment is intrinsically, the joining of two halves, the whole concept of soul-mates, so to speak.
But looking back now, I guess maybe I've had enough of all the trial and error crap that I find it more reasonable to just put all my sappy sentiments in a box, close the lid and keep it for the, for my, for whatever or whomever bothers to put up with my issues, I don't know, years from now, perhaps?
I guess what I'm trying to say is: I'm tired of hurting people. I've spent so much time soaking up the fringe benefits of casual dating that I unconsciously caused people pain. There. I'm admitting it: I'm not ready. And I'm not sure if I'll ever be. Yes I'm fucked up. But so is the world. So screw you and spare me from clingy suffocating replies. I'm on a soul-search. And I don't need you, or anyone to hold me down. I deserve my space thank you very much.
just don't fall recklessly, headlessly in love with me,
'cause its gonna be, all heartbreak, blissfully painful and insanity...
It all boils down to one thing. I know this whole community is bursting with disdain towards the kind of people who built and stand by their monumental dating standards, some out of spite, some only out of the sheer need for something to hate. But for some, it definitely goes waay beyond unreasonable. I, too, do not understand why some people think too highly of themselves, when really they're just another delusional excuse for a homo. In my case, I put my standards up too high a towering pedestal, only because I know how big of a loser I am when I fall. And I don't particularly consider that a bad thing per se, falling for someone completely will still be, for me, the greatest present anyone can ever give. That's how I see it and so should you. The point is, I'm tired of pretending I can put out the same level of boundless dedication I've given to my past flames. I'm taking a breather. I'm saving up all this pent up need for intimacy and glorified adoration for that someone I know I will eventually come across. For now, I will be (And I am) taking measures to better myself, not only to justify my supercilious standards but to fill my own void. I'm hopeful, that's about as far as I'm willing to admit.
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