The weekends seem to stretch interminably these days. It seems impossible that I ever found enough things to do to fill them in my previous life because when I wake up now the day looms ahead like an imposing behemoth from which to run away, not confront.

I woke up this morning at 1030H after two failed attempts earlier. I brushed my teeth, made a mug of milo and read another section from Bill Bryson’s “Down Under” before falling asleep again. I woke up half an hour after that, ate some noodles and then went back to sleep until 1430H when I woke up only because I had to pee. I then thought watching telly would do me some good. Which I did. But only until 1545H when I promptly feel asleep again.

Perhaps I should have just slept through the entire weekend. It wasn’t as if there was any thing I needed to do, anywhere I needed to go, or anyone I had to see. The days are long and the hours lonely. And I try not to remember how I ever managed to get through them before.

I would cry if I could. I would bury myself in tears if they would come. But I think a side effect of the happy pills is that I my emotions aren’t falling below a certain floor anymore. I can’t seem to bring myself grieve at all. I skate over the surface of my pain in the heart of winter. In a way, it’s frustrating. And maybe even frightening…

Meanwhile, I was reminded yesterday about how difficult it is getting back into the scene again. Finding a life partner is difficult for most people in our modern world. Finding a life partner when you’re in a minority group that prides itself in being superficial and self-absorbed, and that places great importance on physical characteristics is just near impossible.

I finally met up with EO. We talked for about an hour over coffee. Or rather he talked for about an hour over coffee. In all the time that we were sitting there, he commanded about 75-80% of the conversation, with about 90% of what he said revolving around himself! To say the least, I wasn’t amused at the lack of attention he seemed to NOT have demonstrated towards me. Nevermind that, it wasn’t as if what he was saying was all that interesting at all. It was all pretty mundane and some of what he did say didn’t paint a terribly flattering picture of him as a person.

There were other “shortcomings” I had observed while talking to him, but I shall not go into those. In short, while it was pleasant, no sparks flew. I’m sure the feeling was mutual. We parted ways and intuition tells me that I most probably wouldn’t hear from him again. Not that there’s any love lost between the two of us.

So here I am on a Saturday evening in what has been my hangout for the past month, Starbucks, KLCC, surfing the internet on WiFi and wondering where life had gone.

Posted on October 16th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Notable: Personal | 5 Comments »

This is a pseudo-adaptation of the “Sunscreen” song for gay men:

1. Always wear clean, sexy underwear. You never know when they have to be on show - even at the doctor’s.

2. Always carry a condom. And lubricant. As they say in the scouts movement, ?Be Prepared!”

3. Flirt with every man. They are all potential victim-wannabes. Especially the married ones.

4. Always remember everyone who came before you. That’s why you should always practise safe sex.

5. Any kind of sex is OK as long as its consensual.

6. Try every position once: top, bottom and in-between.

7. It’s always polite to say “sorry you’re not my type”. It’s never polite to ignore your admirers completely.

8. Masturbate. When you run out of condoms, that’s the safest way to get off.

9. Looks fade. Love someone not for what they look like, but for who and what they are.

10. Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll start to sag at 40, maybe you’ll become a dirty old man on your 75th birthday… But always remember: you’re as good as the straight boy standing next to you.

A propos the subject matter, this is a rather interesting article about what it is that gay men and lesbian women do…

Posted on October 15th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Life's Gay | 17 Comments »

Like a big balloon with a tiny prick on its surface, I’ve been on the verge of imploding the last five days. But instead of air, I’m all welled up with tears and grief.

Perhaps it’s the effect of not taking the happy pills while I was ill last week. I stopped taking it for five days. Or perhaps it was a subconscious reaction to the anniversary on Tuesday. Or perhaps, after ten weeks, it’s all finally wearing in and coming home to roost.

For a few days, I felt like a very full dam about to burst. The water level had been rising and rising. At various points during the day, I would feel like collapsing and letting the river run. Only I don’t. Like the Energizer bunny, I kept going.

I suspect I’m entering a period of grief. I was in a state of shock before. Now, I think I’m transitioning into the period of grief. This is when I’m finally consciously acknowledging what’s happening: it’s no longer just “the end“. It’s long over.

But in the middle of all this, I found something to be, well… maybe not happy, but certainly (foolishly) cheerful. I don’t think I’m in love, but I’m in certainly in love with the prospect of being in love. We’ve been talking over the telephone for a few days now and it’s been good. Although I’ve seen pictures of him, we haven’t met yet (this is not the guy from the first non-date!). I don’t know when we’ll finally meet but for the moment, I’m just happy thinking that maybe, just maybe, some sun would shine on a small patch of my frontyard.

Healing the emotional grief is a long process. While there’s something to be said about going monastic for a while, I don’t think I can manage that. It’s far too depressing a prospect not having anything to look forward to while you isolate yourself to cure. That, and the disservice I would do to my “kind” - no self-respecting gay man would buy the idea of abstention!

So meanwhile, it’s a roller coaster ride. There’ll be hours when I seize up with pangs of regret and then minutes when I think of EO and foolishly, but gleefully, wonder about what could be… But I’m also bracing myself for that one incident that I know will come, that will tip me over and unleash the floodgates, letting all the pain loose…

Posted on October 14th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Notable: Personal | 3 Comments »

It still feels as if I live there. It’s been almost six weeks since I moved and it still feels as if I live in the place formerly known as home.

Pictures of me, of us still stand by the side of the television, on the dressing table, and above the cabinets. The bookshelves are teeming with my books: from politics to fiction, from cookery to language. While my entire classical music CD collection remains silent in their cabinet.

Although the surface is decked with boxes and packaging material now, my large work desk still stands in the study and my desk-chair waits to be seated on again. My passport and other such documents are in the safe, the combination being an amalgam of dates significant to the both of us. My collection of beanie babies are in the bedside drawer, below my collection of tarot cards. The rest of my mementoes are stored away in boxes in the store-room.

I still have shirts hanging in the cupboard and trousers folded on the shelves. The winter clothes are bundled away in the guest room. I still have a full complement of facial wash-toner-moisturiser in the bathroom, and a range of shampoo and conditioner by the shower. My vanity mirror still swing beside the bathroom sink.

There’s an unfinished bar of chocolate and a stick of chocolate ice-cream in the fridge. He doesn’t eat chocolate.

It all feels oddly familiar. Nothing much appears to have changed. The furniture are still where they should be. The electrical switches are all second nature… It’s as if I’ve gone on a long, but temporary trip due to be back at some point in the foreseeable future.

But we know it’s no the same.
It’s but a shadow of what it used to be.
And everything, everything has changed.

Posted on October 13th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Notable: Personal | 4 Comments »

This cheap, ugly, run-of-the-mill (brand that I wouldn’t ever buy myself) CD-R in a very scratched jewel-case:

is what a company that reported USD41.4 billion in net revenue and USD2.6 billion in net profit (in their 2004 annual report) sends me in response to this.

Nevermind the bad packaging and presentation, the CD-R was supposed to contain the Dell Solution Centre that was wiped out from my Inspiron 700m notebook thanks to bad advice from Dell’s agents. I ran the setup file, installed the application and then launched it.

Voila!

I now have a Dell Problem Centre!

After all that I had gone through, is anyone still surprised?!?

Posted on October 12th, 2004 by jl
Filed under: Uncategorized | 4 Comments »