Something In The Water

Is there something in the water?

In the last month or so, I've seen at least half dozen of my favourite bloggers come to a stop, either permanently or on indefinite hiatus. And just yesterday, another one has followed suit, which is a real surprise since this blogger is a particular prolific one, not to mention quite popular.

What's happening out there?

I sensed something's up but... has blogging gone passe?

Caution: Party Training

The last few days went by almost without much fanfare. It's kinda weird not having a weekend filled with activities, events and errands; the hectic and sleep-deprived kind I'm usually used to. It's a nice change of pace.

No, apart from work and the workouts, the most interesting I did was to book my holiday for Sydney Mardi Gras next year. Talk about being organised, hey. I've got my plane tickets, my accomodation booked and all I've left to do is to buy the party tix when they go on sale. I'm not usually like this - heck, I'm usually the last minute kind-of-guy. But I had so much fun attending my first ever MG weekend this year, that I vowed not to miss out on next year's celebrations, especially since it's the parade's 30th birthday.

Trips are always fun, but I'm super excited about this one, and much more so than my upcoming two-month jaunt overseas this November. Isn't that weird?

Maybe it's from the sense of empowerment that comes from knowing that I've already been able to affect what I'll be doing next year. Or perhaps it's from the anticipation of relieving those memorable days again from earlier in the year. Or maybe it's from the thoughts of being immersed in that bubble of a weekend when you feel solidarity and inclusiveness that you may not normally experience at any other time. In spite of the criticism that it gathers, no one who's ever experienced Mardi Gras in person could argue the palpability of the event. It's everywhere... like Gay Christmas.

Now that the little details have been sorted, I can focus on the more important things: getting myself sorted. Gymming and grooming, I've gotta look my best to be buffed, tanned and terrific. And of course, some serious shopping and pre-event party training.

Best get started.

Surprised

I emailed Nico a few days later in response to the several text messages he'd sent since Saturday. He was getting worried since he hadn't heard from me. What he didn't know was that I was waging a private Cold War on him and Tommy.

I know I should have called him instead and that I should have done it much earlier but I didn't trust myself from saying something hurtful or something I'd really regret. I was still very angry. So, instead I sent him an email. In it, I admitted that I was mad at the both of them and told him how I felt betrayed and let down by him especially. I sent it before I started to have second thoughts.

A few days later he responded with a surprisingly long answer. I won't go into details but Nico expressed how he felt about the whole thing. Sufficiently. Somehow, he'd also managed to turn the whole incident about him, and in a way that was not entirely egomaniacal or absurd. He did make a point that was not totally lost on me: that I had unfairly assumed that he knew everything that was going on. He was right. He didn't.

So, we decided to make up and move on from the drama. In truth, I was already over it as soon as I had sent him my message. As for Tommy, well, I hadn't seen nor spoken to him at all. But that's okay, he is busy with his new boy.

On another topic, I went to see Thirsty Merc recently, an Aussie pop-rock outfit who hail from Dubbo in New South Wales. I'm a big fan, having seen them twice already this year. They sound awesome live. A few of my friends and I have long organised tickets for this local gig, when another acquaintance had asked me if I wanted to meet the boys before the show. She'd won a competition from a radio station she doesn't even listen to. I jumped at the chance even before I could think about it and before you know it, we were at the venue, waiting excitedly to get the call from the manager.

It wasn't until we were about to rock up backstage did I start wondering what the hell I was going to say or do. I've admired these guys from afar and to be so close and personal was a little intimidating and not to admit, a tad awkward. I didn't want to sound like a gushing fan, cos that would be totally sad, but I didn't want to seem disinterested either. I settled for cool indifference, like this was something I get to do all the time. When we first entered the room, all the guys minus the lead singer came up to greet us and shake hands, and not long after, we were downing a couple of beers together. It was going well and I'd started a friendly chat with the drummer who I admit I barely noticed before. He seemed genuinely engaged and interested in what I had to say.

After a little while, the lead singer entered the room and barely even gave us a glance before he sat himself down in a chair and started fiddling with a shitbox keyboard. I abruptly stopped talking to the drummer and oh-so-casually rocked up to the singer and made attempts at a conversation. I was eager to introduce myself. The dude may have been deaf but I suspect that he was just a right royal snob since anything I said fell on deaf ears. Meanwhile, the drummer, seeing how enthused his fellow musician was being, joined us and was nice enough to answer my questions that were not being replied to by the singer.

My muso friends were right. The lead front guy of any band are usually the moody types while the drummer, who is usually relegated in the background, is often the most friendly. That was proven when I met Thirsty Merc. Forget moody band poster boy, Rai. I have a new idol in Carl, their awesome drummer beatboxer.

It's funny how people can just surprise you in both the oddest and nicest of ways.

Duped

It really is quite pathetic and juvenile to admit, but part of the reason why I've decided to stop writing on my other blog and start a secret one has to do with a boy.

Tommy is a fellow blogger who I met through a friend, Nico. Both are avid blog readers of mine. Partly due to synchronicity and with some help from Nico, Tommy and I ended up meeting one late evening. We hit it off straight away and it seemed real easy. There were quite a few things that I liked about Tommy right from the start. He was funny, for one, sarcastic in the way that I was and the way I found appealing. He was cute and smart, but more importantly, he seemed genuine. Now, I would be lying if I didn't say I felt an instant attraction to him - and sensed that he felt the same.

I often fuck up potential relationships by being way too eager. I either scare the other person away or I get bored too soon from the lack of reciprocation. So, I made a conscious decision to approach this budding relationship with some caution and to take things slowly. At the start, it seemed to work. We enjoyed each other's company without worrying about how or where things were going. A natural progression. But somehow, between holding hands in a pub one Sunday to not seeing each other until the next, something happened that derailed the whole thing. Tommy didn't think that we were going to work. He had a lightning bolt moment midweek and felt that we'd developed a friendship instead. It was a shame, according to him, since he really liked me. Found me very attractive even. I didn't feel like saying otherwise, as I kinda felt the same, so I agreed.

I confided in Nico, not so much to find out what Tommy had said to him or the real reason if there was one, but mostly to talk things out. Even though I said it was ok, I felt confused from Tommy's lack of coherent reasoning and deep down, I also felt completely dumped by him. Nico was attentive and reassuring but I sensed that he, too, was holding something back. I decided to leave things be since it would have felt it low if I made Nico tell me what he did know and betray Tommy's trust.

Several weeks later and things take an interesting turn. Having promised to keep up our friendship, Tommy's contact had become irregular while I find myself spending more time with Nico. Neither say anything about the fact that all the while, Tommy had began a relationship with Jim, another blogger and someone I've recently gotten to know. In fact, it was Jim who mentioned it to me casually, over the internet no less. I didn't know what to say, and it was all I could do not to send a barrage of abusive messages to both Nico and Tommy.

Tommy has every right to be involved with someone and I don't have any to tell him otherwise. Nor does he need to let me know when he does. But I feel pretty pissed all the same. Angry, in fact. Why is that? Why do I feel like I've been duped and spurned? Is it because despite of my well-meaning intentions, I still got fucked over? I can just imagine Nico and Tommy laughing their heads off when talking about the whole thing.

I'm starting to think that, especially when it comes to relationships, gay guys are more screwed up than the straight ones. Me included.

You've Got Mail

I've just spent most of the afternoon going through the 50 or so unread emails that have been sitting in my inbox. It's been like that for the last couple of days.

I know it seems like a trivial thing to be complaining about. After all, there's plenty of other bigger problems out there that the media tells me I should be concerned for: global warming, terrorism, interest rates, Britney losing custody of the kids, for example. But everyday seems to bring more and more of these missives and messages that need actioning. I appreciate every one of them, don't get me wrong. Every last reply, comment, forward, newsletter and even the numerous alerts from several online greeting card companies. I swear I must be super popular with the amount of e-greets that have been sent to me in the last few weeks. From neighbours I didn't know I had, cousins I've never met, former schoolmates from places I never studied at, and even a card from a Sherpa in Nepal! I enjoy them all.

Sometimes, though, it can get too much. In fact, so overwhelming (there's that word again) that when I look at the ever growing list, I simply shut the whole thing down and walk away feeling stressed and jittery. Which is probably not the best thing to do since that in itself is another reason why I'm forever playing catch up. How has something that was meant to be a time saver ended up being the complete opposite?

But today, I've stucked to my guns. Today, I've replied to every message, forwarded every joke, watched every movie, checked out every interesting link, and answered every MySpace and Facebook request. My inbox is cleared, my red flags all done. And it only took me the last six hours. Just as well, too. Since I only have 15 minutes left until my shift is over. Better do something that's actually work related...

Right after I check out this new batch of deliveries. I've got mail!

Loose Lips And Ships

I have a blog that I've been writing for years, and I guess you can say that it's pretty popular. But right now, it's the last thing I want to be associated with.

The reason? Nothing dramatic or drastic. Just that after being involved with it for so long, I suddenly find myself feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. I know it's a little weird and I'm not sure exactly how it all came about but as of this moment, I want to be as far away from it as possible.

Part of the reason is that far too many people who read my blog know me personally, and that limits what I can write and express honestly. It used to be that I wouldn't have the need to censure myself, but lately, that's exactly what I've been doing. It's like going to see a counsellor for your childhood issues and the one sitting in the chair is your mother.

The other reason is the constant need to "perform". To come up with something insightful and unique that would impress readers and generate those feedback and comments. Because after a while, you establish a readership that has expectations and needs, and they will be very vocal if you're not up to task. It's too much pressure that's not good for either morale or sanity. And don't say that it's stupid because if you're a blogger, then you know what I'm talking about.

Which leads me, I guess, to the number one main reason as I can best articulate it. I started hating where my blog was heading. Reading my latest posts, it felt cynical, jaded and pessimistic. As a reflection of who I am, I found that scary since in person, I'm usually carefree and laid-back. Hate to think that deep down I'm as neurotic and wrought with worry as say, caffeine-addict Tweek from South Park.

Hence why I've decided to stop blogging. In fact, I mentioned on there that I would be taking an indefinite leave, not knowing when I'd return. But the relief lasted all of half the day before I started questioning whether I'd done the right thing. Don't get me wrong, though, I'm still pretty sincere with those sentiments, it's just that I have this need to write. It's like an itch that needs scratching. Badly.

And that's the reason for my relapse, and for this "secret" blog. It's my addiction... and therapy.

Just a couple of things that you need to know first.

One, I'm gay. A homosexual, a queer , a poof and yes, even a fag. I don't have any issues about being gay since I've been out longer than I can remember. Nor am I dealing with anything like internalised homophobia, coming out blues or any other problems with my sexuality. I'm fine, thanks. But at the same time, I'm not a militant poof nor a political queer shouting from the rooftops about how proud I am to be gay. I'm just a regular guy who happens to like other guys. Period.

Two, I'm usually not the type to be so secretive but I'm going to be doing the Anonymous thing with this blog. Trust me, that's far removed to what I'm usually like. I'm normally quite open and honest and most probably to a fault. I'm still discreet, don't get me wrong, but in my other blog, I've written in detail about quite intimate things about myself, my family, my sexuality, my sex life and everything else in between that's happened to me. The result is that too many people know too many things, which has led to some problems. So, I hope you'll understand if I'm a little vague with the details.

So, with all that I guess this is where you'll find me writing for a little while. How long exactly? Not sure. I guess until this secret blog serves its purpose and I'm ready again to resume my real blog persona.

In the mean time, though, just call me Joshua.