Monday, 31 March 2014

Sunday 30/03/14

This is us. This is my social group. We are gays living in big metropolitan areas heavily involved in the gay scene. We all know each other. We all have big muscles and violent abs and handsome faces and lots of disposable income and innumerable sexual partners, each one hotter than the next. We adopt variations of heteronormative looks (some of us are bros, some of us are jocks, some of us are simply worked out guys next door), which we document incessantly on Facebook, Instagram and all your other surrounding news feeds / timelines. We will post pictures of us with our shirts off, standing together on party dancefloors or next to expensive hotel swimming pools, and sometimes we’ll even quote Mean Girls and tag the picture with, 'You can’t sit with us'. We go to the best parties, take the best drugs, and have VIP tickets for the best events. We didn't even pay for them. Are you jealous of us?

We fall in love with each other and we move in together, and retire from the scene for a few months, maybe a couple of years, because we’ve found happiness, and we don’t need this any longer; we’re over it. Then we fuck things up for fun or because we’re bored, and we start going out again and seeing all the people we know – most of them are still there, at a different part of their own cycle – and we fall right back into place and we do it all over again. We can have this forever. All that changes is that each time you go back there’s one more person at the pool party that you have to avoid making eye contact with / dancing too close to, because in the very recent past you destroyed their soul a little bit, or they destroyed yours.

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Sunday 02/02/14

Oh how I wish I could write on this blog in the same way I used to write back in 2007 - anonymously. The stories I have to write right now.

Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Tuesday 31/12/13

Goodbye 2013, you dreadful cunt.

My favourite albums this year were:

15. Brothertiger - Future Splendors
14. Daughter - If You Leave
13. Kisses - Kids in LA
12. Kavinsky - Outrun
11. St. Lucia - When The Night
10. She & Him - Volume 3
9. IAMX - The Unified Field
8. The National - Trouble Will Find Me
7. James Blake - Overgrown
6. Sky Ferreira - Night time, my time
5. Blood Orange - Cupid Deluxe
4. Pet Shop Boys - Electric
3. Classixx - Hanging Gardens
2. Suede - Bloodsports
1. Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires Of The City

My face this year was:

Monday, 25 November 2013

Sunday 24/11/13

I haven't written anything for a while on here and there are two reasons for that.

First of all, I have been extremely busy with work and I haven't really had the time. And I mean that I've been busy with actual work, the work that pays me money and we don't talk about on here. That's a good thing on one level, of course, because, well, I need to eat and pay my rent and go on these trips that I go on that make people think that I don't actually work. 

It's also not such a good thing on another level; because it really doesn't allow me time to do what I actually want to do, which is to write. Every day I get so many ideas of what I want to write about. Every day when I sit at my desk or drive in my car or lift some weights in the gym, I'll get a flash of an idea about something that I need to write. These can be ideas for blog stories, for chapters in my next book, for dialogue between characters, or generally observations that I have and want to wrap some words around. 

Unfortunately then I get home, having finished everything that I had to do on that day, and it's suddenly 2230 at night and either I can't even face sitting down to type these ideas out because I'm so tired and have to go to bed and get up early to do the same, or, even worse, these ideas have already left my head for good.

This last part really upsets me. It upsets me because I'm at a stage in my life where I feel like I can be really creative, but unfortunately circumstances don't allow me to take advantage of this.

I'm not somebody who considers themselves to be terribly ambitious. I kinda think that I'm too damaged to pursue whatever might be classified as success and recognition and what have you. But, perhaps in a delusional way, this is one area where I think that I could contribute something to the world - through my writing. Again, maybe I'm misguided, but I think that if anything's going to be left behind, if there's anything that people might think back on and think 'oh, he was quite good at that' after I'm gone, it will probably be things that I wrote. And I feel this slipping away from me, because I don't have the time to sit down and do it. 

Yes, I'm thinking of legacy. I'm thinking of legacy and of dying and not fulfilling my potential and I'm only 33. Why I'm feeling like that at this age, I don't know. Like my life has nearly expired and I'm lying there on my death wallowing about all the things that I didn't get to do. At 33. Too late for a quarter life crisis, too early for a mid life crisis, perhaps my condition is just critical at all times.

I think I was spoilt with writing this blog, not just back in 2007, but also this summer when I found it cathartic to start writing again about what I was going through (those posts are now deleted...for reasons I'll explain later) because I came to realise how people were connecting to what I was saying pretty much immediately. Because this is a blog, and because I put myself out there, and because the whole process is a little bit interactive - with people commenting and emailing me privately and generally getting in touch - I always felt the impact of what I was saying directly. I was being made aware that a lot of people out there exist that think the way I do, and relate to the things that I write. This is the main thing that I'm good at. This is the main thing that I want to leave behind.

That's why it pisses me off that I can't do it right now. That's why it pisses me off that I have to spend my fleeting life doing other stuff that only serves a purpose of funding my existence here, instead of doing the one thing that I like, am good at, and could be remembered by. Is this ironic? I've lost track of what the word irony means because people use it differently in Greece, England and America - the three countries I've lived in. Completely differently though.

Anyway, I guess this is my Sunday night 2300 existentialist crisis. Which I had better wrap up and go to bed. I hope I find the time soon to write the second reason why I haven't written on here in a long time (which also links to why the posts from the summer have been removed) and I promise, the second reason is less solipsistic and therefore more interesting and relatable to you. Sorry for starting with this one. I clearly like the thoughts of my own brain too much.

Oh, what triggered all this was an email I received from somebody who’s read the blog for a long time. And this person, whom I don’t know anything about, has cared and been nice enough to email me a couple of times (as far as I remember) but this time they wanted to cheer me up and they thought a way to do this would be to send a list of ‘highlights’ from the blog. Things that I’d written about over the past six, seven years. Isn’t that fucking sweet? Now, if you used to read the blog back in the day, maybe you’ll remember these. (I remember most of them and I wrote them). I hope the writer won’t mind me sharing part of their email here.

For this next part, excuse me for bringing things up from long ago--because I think you might possibly dislike that--but off the top of my head and because I feel like compliments based on facts are better, here are a few of my very favorite LP posts you wrote that for me captured some real art.  

I vaguely recall that you like lists but I didn't put numbers on these because that would indicate a rank.  I can't be expected to choose favorite stories when I have so many.

The one where LP texts with a friend across the Atlantic while drinking champagne out of the fridge.  It ends quietly. 
Paper towels in toilet at gym. Truly inspired.
Surf narrative from Newquay.
Critiques of reading material chosen by riders on the tube.
Description of young girl (on Eurostar?) with thin lipped hardness (this might actually be my favorite bit).
Doing an impressive number of pull ups and staying in your hotel room instead of skiing in France.  Extra points for your choice of ski jacket and ambitious eyewear. 
Physical descriptions of greek men at an airport and your palpable relief when back in England.
Quotes only heard in LA which only could have been chosen by you.
Squeezy hands posts with the pictures from Richmond Park.  I faintly remember swans or geese.  I had been in that park only a week earlier, was home in the states and read that post.  I had just seen those birds and then found myself 4,000 miles removed and it made me very sad.

Hope this helps if you are needing help.  If you are fine, then I hope this made you smile.”

(As a note, it did cheer me up, and it also sent me down a very narrow, dimly lit spiral of melancholy. So two thumbs up).

Tuesday, 1 October 2013

Tuesday 01/10/13

This is the cover of the special edition of Highlights of My Last Regret, which will be out in March '14. (The mass market edition will be out in September '14 and will have a very different cover, where I don't appear at all, don't worry).

Thursday, 19 September 2013

Thursday 19/09/13

On Monday I’m chatting on Facebook with my friend Todd and Todd is American but lives in Australia, which is very convenient for me, as it gives me somebody to talk to when America has gone to bed and Europe hasn’t woken up yet. It may be useful to add at this point that I have currently run out of sleeping pills. After Australia I start talking to South Eastern Europe, after that Western Europe, after that the East Coast of America, and by the time I catch up with my own time zone on the West Coast I haven’t slept for three days, but at least I have been very social.

Todd has a bad history of being attracted to terrible, terrible people who treat him like shit, but he just can’t help it. He wants it really bad. These terrible, terrible people exhibit all sorts of objectionable behaviour, like cheating on him behind his back, being hookers behind his back, being drug addicts both in front and behind his back, etc. Naturally, Todd usually finds his boyfriends at circuit parties, like the rest of us. Saying that, Todd is actually a nice person and would deserve to be with somebody that treats him well, but he’s also in this weird predicament where he’s hormonally imbalanced and exclusively attracted to people on steroids who watch Ru Paul’s Drag Race and went to Mykonos this August, so I don’t know what to tell him, really.

On this Monday Todd messages me:

“LP! I watched the video on Instagram of you giving yourself a haircut. Who are you trying to impress?”

“Just trying to fund my Kickstarter, to be honest. (Via being a prostitute)”

“Ooh, my ex is a hooker. I can get you tips.”

“Amazing. ___ is ___ ___ (the ___ ___ - ___ ___ ___ in ___ ___ ___).

“Interesting. Also my ex still asks me for money, so I haven’t done very well.”

“You definitely win.”

“I don’t want to win.”

“One can win at losing. Not that I think you’re a loser. Just attracted to the wrong men.”

“Well, we have clearly established that. But I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon.”

“You might bump into a good one by accident though?”

Then Todd doesn’t think that he will bump into a good one by accident and then he links me to a few Facebook pictures of some WeHo gay that we both know and says:

“Why does ___ have to be in every pic and know every person? It’s annoying and not cute.”

(Please note: ___’s ten year relationship came to a customarily dramatic WeHo end last year, when he came home early from a work trip to find his boyfriend in bed with two other WeHo players)

“Because he gets all his validation as a human being by floating around the WeHo gay scene. Also, and this is more important here, because he is so fucking stupid that he hasn’t learnt any lessons whatsoever from what happened to him last year as a consequence of living in the scene and having a ridiculous open relationship. So instead of changing things around him / his lifestyle / the people he hangs out with, he went straight back in, diving head first.”

Then Todd tells me that this is all terrible and what have we done to deserve this and why can’t we escape it and can I possibly predict a future scenario where our lives will not revolve around these people and then I type that it’s possible, yes…

…but before that, I’ll see him at ___ and ___’s Big Pre-Christmas Party in Hollywood. It will be the city's hottest invite. We'll all meet there: he, I, ___, ___, ___, ___, ___, ___, and many others. We'll take loads of blow and chat in the garden by the Spanish style fountain. I will spike ___’s drink with g (not that he'll need much convincing) then lead him to the second guest bedroom and start fucking him. ___ will walk in and they'll break up. They'll get back together a week later and I'll have to leave the town in shame (again). A few months later, and as ___ has come home from work early expecting to see ___ watering the plants (___ still won't have a job - why would he? He didn't bother when he was with ___ and ___ only makes a fraction of what ___ makes) but he will walk in on me double penetrating ___ in the sitting room with ___ whilst ___ is filming it. Everyone's hearts will be broken for two and a half days...and then we'll repeat ad infinitum.

Then Todd has to go to the gym, and then I move on to my next time zone.


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Friday, 13 September 2013

Friday 13/09/13

This was something somebody wrote to me on Twitter, I think, about a year ago when I first mentioned that I was planning to move to Los Angeles.

“All the guys in West Hollywood are running around with their dicks hanging out”.

This beautiful metaphor was employed to mock my intentions of moving to LA, in a relationship, to settle down. (Have I mentioned enough times that this wasn’t my choice?)

On one hand I don’t know if this aphorism is specific to West Hollywood, or if it applies to every big city with a large population of young gays. By "young gays" I mean men aged 16 to 50, of course, as gays never grow old. For example, would it be less laughable a concept planning to move to Sydney, in a relationship, to settle down? What about NYC? Or London? On the other hand, and I understand this might just be a personal issue, LA fucking scares me.

With London, I have the sense that, despite the clubs and the drugs and the parties (and there are more clubs and drugs and parties in London than anywhere else I’ve ever been) and despite the high turnover of transient gays on steroids there to make money and have a good time, I could still maintain a relationship. In London, I feel more trusting of people. In London, I also feel loved.

That’s not the case in LA. In LA…I don’t know. I just have a crippling fear of that city. Love is not a feeling I associate with LA. Not love towards me, in any case. If I went back there, and it would be with a serious intent of self-harm if I ever did, I would have to attempt to build up my trust with the city and its people. Right now, in LA I feel humiliated.

But I’m not writing this to compare cities. I’m thinking about commitment and trust in gay relationships overall. I’ll stop focusing on this at some point, honestly, but I was thinking the other day…how can someone do this? How is it possible that someone has a boyfriend of four years (very publicly, of course, with everyone in their circle knowing about it, as would be the case half a decade later) then suddenly, they turn up at a pool party – it’s always a fucking pool party – or someone’s birthday or wherever one week later, with a new man on their arm and nobody questions this?

When I was putting this question to my friend, Lane, the "why are people not reacting to this?" question, he just said:

"Because we’re gay. This is expected. This is a culture where you’re at a dinner party, then three people disappear from the table and the next thing you know is that they’re all fucking in the bathroom. You think that anyone will raise an eyebrow at some WeHo queen changing boyfriends all of a sudden?"

And I don't want him to have a point, but I don't know that he does not.


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That's a link. Bye.