February 05, 2008


In the old days, cinema theatres are the only, if not just the usual cruising place for gay men. A convenient place for anonymous opportunity of quick orgasmic release; heightened by the thrill of the risqué itself. I've heard of stories of diverse places becoming hunting grounds throughout the years: public parks, vacant and busy parking lots; every imaginable corners of the malls of any malls including the fitting rooms of department stores; and of course the gym, be it in the floor, locker rooms and the steam or sauna rooms.

Gym stories abound and my keen sense for reading body language certainly made me more acutely aware of goings on for more than a year now that I have been regularly going to FF. With this in mind, I have resolved early on that gym shall be a legitimate and wholesome exercise for me literally and figuratively. I exercise because I want to be fit to enable me to eat what I want and not because I crave to be fit and buffed.

Despite my nonchalant behaviour in the gym, I still have been cruised a lot of times, and a lot of times I have passed the chance except for one time several months back, when my groin gets the horny part of me; wham, cum, thank you man. I'm also human after all. But for the most part I have learned to control my groin; the risqué does not seem to be of worth anymore; only a fool would ever risk being caught taking shit in his own backyard so to speak.

But the past couple of days have been more than the usual. I don't know if I have the word "horny" written all over me that I have been cruised almost every day that I was in the gym. Five days in a row and who wouldn't succumb, especially if a buffed and scantily clad young man goes down on his knees; I am no saint. The encounter did not reach the orgasmic proportion, thanks to the intruder and door that cannot be locked, but somehow the narcissistic in me brought forth a consoling thought that perhaps, I'm still desirable after all, despite my age and that pestering mound of a belly. LOL!!!

February 04, 2008

Musing VI: Single

I am single and that is a fact that I would probably have to live with for the rest of my life. A very cynical view one might say but a very realistic possibility nonetheless, especially for a gay man.

But being single does not mean I am lonely or that I am alone. Being single speaks only of the societal definition of my status and not my state of being. Notwithstanding the reality of what I have; I choose to be happy and that is more important than weeping for the reality of what I don't have.

Is it really a truth or is it just my contemptible dispute to justify and bring sense to my single hood? Arguably I have deemed my being gay, is not a choice, but an innate truth. It is my very being and as such I have no choice but to accept it.

In the same way, it can be argued that being gay and single is not a choice but a fact of reality; for being gay has the fine distinction of apparent freedom to choose and be not constrained by any form of bond; affirming gay as synonymous with polygamy.

I say it's just a convenient choice of pretext for polygamy, to which I don't necessarily subscribe. An excuse for apparent sexual behaviour of no distinction except for the pleasure it brings. I still believe and choose the transparency of a committed relationship for it leaves no room for ambiguities in terms of love; only a romantic fool that I am would like to understand.

That is another one of my views that makes me a pariah, an ironic twist of being a recluse amongst the recluse. Oh well, that is me just being true to the word non-conformist.